trust—I closed my eyes and took that leap,
trust—I opened my eyes to see something new,
trust—I believed in change
trust—I changed my belief
trust—I know less
trust—less is more
Footnotes:
“How do I define trust?”—I asked myself this question a couple of weeks back. I went back to the first time I passively defined it. I was two, at the time. Surely, I don’t remember a lot but one trust activity that my father engaged me in is jumping from the shelf. He would shout “Jump” and extend his arms in a position to catch me. I would close my eyes and leap with no fear. This was trust for me at the time—to jump, knowing that I would be held.
Then that definition evolved as I got heavier and my father stopped the “jump and catch” game. At six, trust was getting asurprise gift each time I got blindfolded. My family blindfolded me when they got me my first piano, then my green bicycle and all the other times they got me a gift. Every time, I had a blindfold on, I knew that I would get to see something new. This was trust for me at the time—to look, knowing I would get to see a something good, something I have not seen before.
With time, the game of blindfolds got forgotten and slowly trust began to fade. At twelve, I was taught that change is for the good and I believed it. I saw everyone around me change—some for the better and some for worse. But the former outweighed the latter. I also saw circumstances change; I witnessed several horrible people turn good as well. This was trust for me—to believe, knowing that change is for good.
Then I got into my terrible teens and became a cynic. Taunts, putdowns and comparisons, I loathed a crowd. I had accepted Jesus as my personal Saviour but this decision was mostlyinfluenced by the people around me. I was taught that God is sitting in a throne room, in a faraway place called heaven. He punishes when we do wrong, and He rewards when we do right. He loves more when we obey Him more. At fourteen, I had an encounter. This marked the beginning of my journey of unlearning. All that I was made to believe had to be thrown; a change of belief had to be brought in. I learnt that God is near and not far away. I deeply absorbed the essence of His Fatherhood that gently calls out our flaws, not in wrath but in unconditional love. I broadly understood the fact that God does not work on a reward system. And last but not the least, I let God change my heart—my thoughts, my beliefs and my understandings. This was trust for me—to change, knowing that God is the One Who is in control of it.
When I changed, a lot of knowledge was flushed down the drain. I did not know a lot, but I knew enough to understand that the truth about God. This truth set me free. This truth is Jesus. He taught me through parables and stories. At 24, He showed me faith in its simplest form and how it stirred up something complex in the spiritual world. I was in awe of the simplicity in His greatness. This was trust for me—to truly know the unconditional love of God.
From all this, one can infer that—Trust is to leap when God tells you to; it is to look at things the way He wants you to; it is to believe Him and the change He brings about. And it is todeeply know the simple yet powerful truth of His love.
Maybe, every person has a unique definition of trust. I know I do. I also know it evolves with time.
So now, at 28, I re-define trust yet again—it is less of you and more of Him.
Less is definitely more in this case.
This is trust for me—to decrease the ‘I’ factor so that there is an increase of God in me.