~ Guest Writer, Rachel Marie ~


Trust, it’s a lot like resting.

One evening I was working in our office building and I plopped down in a red chair. Resting my behind in that chair didn’t take much thought. I trusted it could hold me. After feeling the groove of the chair on my back I was sure this chair and I could become something very special.

But then, I went to lean back, and it leaned way too fast, and I almost ended up dead on the floor.

I looked around and saw a file cabinet up against the wall. Without a second thought, I rolled over and rested the back of the chair on the cabinet. Then I relaxed slowly back into the chair. It held me, no problem. Turns out the chair was built to be rested in after all, I’d just needed something to give me a second assurance before I could fully trust it, and I rolled away from the file cabinet, all proud of myself for figuring that out.

So much happened in those few minutes. I blindly trusted, I questioned trust, I found something else I trusted to validate that I could trust in it after all. All this happened with no real intention.

Reflecting on times in my life where I could easily rest, those times are few and treasured. I was fortunate to be adopted by a beautiful woman. My mother told me when I first met her I climbed into her lap and said; “can I come home with you now?” I instantly knew those were arms I could rest in.

My mother’s ex-husband was there too. He, however, proved to not be a safe place to rest my trust. Because of him and others like him, resting, trusting in my own skin became much harder and if I am honest, it is still sometimes hard to be able to trust in my design. But like that chair I was built for the load I bear. I just have to find something else to reassure me that I can handle it sometimes. Many of us need something to remind us the chair we sit in is one we can trust to carry the load.

As I was writing, my 12-year-old foster daughter came to mind. She has only been with me for a year, and has been in various foster homes – I think I am number 8.

Because of her life’s circumstances what she trusts in is broken. Her trust radar isn’t calibrated, it’s out of alignment. She trusts that people will fail her, overlook her, take advantage of her, and will leave her.

I want nothing more than for my daughter to be able to rest in my arms and know that she can trust me. But I understand her. I don’t take trust lightly. I remember times in my youth where trust was lost, and it was really hard to build that trust back. How many of us trust in the wrong things because the chair we sat on dropped to the floor? We trust in crazy things like people dying in three’s, but can’t trust that there is a great purpose for our lives.


Trusting is a process of resting and falling, you learn where you can rest, and where you may fall.

It’s a matter of sitting in the chair, and trusting yourself to double check that it’s safe to rest in if it doesn’t feel stable. Only then can you truly relax. Only then can you truly trust.