Over the past few days, more circumstances have come up that have revealed how deeply I have had my trust broken in several people.
At the same time, I am realizing just how strong my hope and trust is in God. He has brought me through so much, and has been so faithful to provide for us. My husband and I have been so incredibly blessed through His provision for us through our marriage. And the cool thing is, we had so many people question whether or not we would even make it financially…pretty much, even make it through the first few months. But we did, and we have. I will only attribute our success to God’s kindness, love, and grace for us.
When I found out, about 7 years ago, that my dad was a porn addict, my heart was crushed into so many pieces, I still do not think I’ve found all of them. The same day my mom told me about my dad, I found my siblings viewing porn. My trust was completely broken in my dad, and yet, for some reason, I still found reason, a few years later, however shaky it was, to still trust him.
I had always wondered why, when I reached the age of 8, or so, my dad simply was absent emotionally from me. I remember starting to deal with a lot of aches and pains that medicine wasn’t touching, and asking him to help, as he used to be a military nurse. He would joke, and laugh, but I never felt that he took me seriously. My body was wracked with pain, and yet, my dad didn’t seem to believe me, or care. This is a story for another time, but I was finally, after about 5 years, diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. It was a long journey to that diagnoses, and in the process, I had lost a lot of strength, energy, and I had to stop playing my beloved piano.
I have even had 3 MRIs so doctors could determine if something was wrong with my spine, or shoulders. The very first one I had, was at 4:45am, and my mom was out of town. I remember begging her to come back so she could take me, because I didn’t want to be with my dad. I didn’t want to be with someone who brushed off my pain and fear. I remember begging her with tears and sobs to please come home so she could take me. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, so I got up at 3 am, after not having slept that night, ate a very small breakfast, and nervously walked out the door with my dad. I was scared, having never had an MRI before, but I knew I wouldn’t get any sympathy from my dad, so I tried to remain as stoic as I could be. I just about lost it though when we pulled up to the hospital, and he didn’t park, but instead went to drop me off. I shakily asked if he was going to come in with me, but no, he said, he was going to go swimming while I was in the MRI. I was shocked and my heart rate probably jumped really high when I found out I was having to do this by myself, without the support of either of my parents. I was, after all, a big girl at the ripe age of 15 or 16, and I could take care of myself. [yeah right]
The MRI lasted for two long hours. I lay in that machine trying not to lose it, trying not to remember that I had no idea where to even find my dad afterwards. The hospital was huge, but I had no idea where the pool was, or even where he would be. I finished up, got dressed, and walked out to go where he told me to meet him, and my heart sank. He wasn’t there. I didn’t have a phone, and I had no idea where he could be. I finally was able to reach him from one of the desk phones I had to beg off of the clerk.
I had trusted my dad to be there for me, but he wasn’t. And i knew that i couldn’t explain why that hurt, or why that didn’t help my already shaky trust in him, because he couldn’t, and I still believe he can’t, see how his actions have hurt me. And believe, I’ve tried explaining. I’ve sat down with him, and for three hours, out at a restaurant, tried to explain how I don’t trust him, and why what he’s done has hurt me. I’ve gotten confused answers, and that infamous deer-in-the-headlights stare.
A friend and I were talking the other day, and she mentioned how her dad wasn’t really there throughout her life, but her mom was very emotionally there, so she didn’t really need her dad. I correct her, and told her, no, she did need her dad, she just hasn’t realized that yet. She then asked me how I could see that, because yes, I was right. I realized it’s because all of my life, I have needed my dad, and at the times when I’ve needed him the most, he hasn’t been there. I trusted him to be there, and to love me unconditionally, and he hasn’t done that, but has told me many times how disappointed he is in me.
I have noticed how my distrust in my dad has spread to a distrust in men in general, especially dads. Not only that, I have found myself viewing God as the hypocritical and conditional father that my dad is. It has been through my husband’s faithful and unconditional love for me, that I have been able to start turning that around. My father in law has helped as well. He is one of the most faithful dads I have ever seen, and it’s been so incredibly helpful watching him as a dad towards his children.
When my husband and I went through a period in our relationship, prior to marriage, when we were asked to cut off all communication with each other, my heart ached because I lost my best friend during that time. I remember getting home after having been told we weren’t allowed to talk anymore, and my dad giving me a partial hug and saying, “if your heart is hurting, then you did something wrong.” I knew then and there I wasn’t going to be able to trust him with my relationship with my husband. And later, proof that I couldn’t trust him became very obvious. My dad never took the time to listen or care for my heart, but instead told me I was lusting after this guy because I wanted to be in a relationship with him. He told me that I was making an idol out of the relationship as well, and that there was no wisdom is even being friends. When asked why, my dad never gave me a straight answer, other than that because he said so.
Recently, my trust has been broken several times with some friends. One time, most recent, was someone who decided that being a “faithful friend” meant telling me what I was doing wrong and why, not taking the time to ask questions, listen to my hurting heart, or seek to understand what I was struggling with. I reached the realization last night that I can no longer trust that person, nor do I have any desire to renew trust or friendship with her. If she is more willing to point out what I’m doing wrong, instead of having compassion on me, then it is not worth sharing with her what my heart seeks to understand and is burdened with. I refuse to share with someone who is so legalistic that they are more concerned with how what I say fits in their legalistic box, than what I am trying to say. Those are the kind of people that everything you say can, and will, be used against you.
Here’s my up side to all of this. My trust is deep. When I put my trust in someone, I will trust them with all that I have. Knowing, though, that they will probably mess up, I am willing to over look that. I am eager to give someone grace and a chance to prove themselves to me, should they misuse my trust at all. I have a big heart, and I am so willing to trust those around me. I do have a big heart, but you can picture it with many layers of tape, stitches, rope around it, and gaping holes in it. I have been hurt a lot, but it has been through the pain and heart-ache that I have grown to have compassion and give grace to others. My trust may be deep, but it really is fragile, especially when it comes to those who have used me in the past.
With that in mind, and without further ado,