Trust has many meanings, but for me, trusting someone with my heart—that’s when it gets truly scary.

I’ll gladly sign up for jumping out of an airplane, rock climbing, or zip lining—give me that adrenaline rush, and I trust without hesitation. But when it comes to handing over the most vulnerable part of me, the part that’s been hurt before, I stop dead in my tracks. That kind of trust feels like climbing Everest—daunting and overwhelming.

I’m sure a psychiatrist could have a field day with my fears. They could probably retire and send their kids to college, just off my trust issues alone.

A heart is precious—so fragile—but it’s not meant to be a fortress. It’s meant to be shared. As I climb my own Everest, I’m finding healing. I’m learning to open the parts of my heart I once hid away. When the climb gets hard and I need oxygen to keep going, I turn to God and His Word. I find deep comfort in Psalm 23.

23 “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

² He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

³ He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.

⁴ Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

⁵ Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

⁶ Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”

Then I do these three things:

Pause.
Reflect.
Grasp for God.

It sounds simple—so simple some might wave it off—but for me, it’s what’s helping me heal and learn to trust again.

I know God is God. God is good to me. And I can trust God to be God—He’s got me and I can just be me.

Learning to trust again—whether it’s others or ourselves—is a journey, not a quick leap. It takes courage to unclench that protective heart and let love in, even after it’s been bruised. But every small step up that personal Everest is a victory.

If you’re reading this and feeling that fear or hesitation, know that you’re not alone. It’s okay to pause. It’s okay to reflect. And it’s more than okay to reach out—to God, to a trusted friend, or to the healing power within you.

Trust doesn’t mean perfection or never getting hurt again. It means choosing hope over fear, every single day. So take your time, breathe deeply, and keep climbing. Your heart was made to feel, to heal, and to shine.

And remember—God’s got you. Always.

What about you? What’s one small step you can take today to start trusting again? I’d love to hear your thoughts or stories—please feel free to share in the comments below. Let’s climb this mountain together.