Relearning Trust Without Walking Away

Some of my earliest lessons about trust came not from books or classrooms, but from the pressure of real work with real people.

As I reflect on this question, I think back over my own experience—twenty-four years in industry, sixteen years as a professor of engineering in a secular field, and more than sixty years of participation in church life and ministry. Across these varied settings, I have repeatedly faced the same practical challenge: how do we relearn trust without withdrawing from the very relationships and communities that still hold us together?

Early in my professional life, one of my first major responsibilities was designing and building the UHF transceiver carried in the Apollo astronauts’ backpacks to the moon. That work required trusting many things at once—technical specifications, suppliers, draftsmen who translated designs into drawings, and systems I could not personally verify. Discernment was essential in evaluating sources and materials, but I learned quickly that discernment alone did not teach me how to work well with people.

Under the pressure of schedules and responsibility, I often showed frustration when those I depended on did not respond as quickly, or in the way, I expected. A supervisor recognized this pattern early, challenged me directly, and helped me correct a habit that could have undermined trust throughout my career. Looking back, I can see that my first reflex—when I perceived either indifference or incompetence—was an emotional response that weakened relationships rather than strengthening them.

Over time, I have observed another equally destructive response when trust is shaken: withdrawal. When we conclude that a person or institution cannot be trusted, the natural reaction is to disengage entirely. While this may feel protective, it often leads to isolation. When we withdraw from those who provide information or perspective, our ability to discern truth actually diminishes. Discernment requires engagement, not retreat.

What, then, is one to do?

Early in my Christian work, I received training in group dynamics and group discussion, and two lessons proved invaluable. First, access to truth is often gained by asking open-ended questions within relationships where some level of trust already exists. Second, the collective insight of a thoughtful group frequently exceeds the judgment of any single individual. This was reinforced in professional settings, including evaluations used with potential astronauts, where testing demonstrated that group decisions were consistently more accurate than individual judgments among people with similar levels of expertise.

Another lesson that emerged from these experiences was deceptively simple: you do not have to agree in order to remain connected. Allowing others to hold different viewpoints does not weaken trust; in many cases, it preserves it. I learned this in a religious classroom setting, where faithfulness to God did not require uniformity of opinion. Trust in God does not demand that everyone see every issue the same way.

Practically speaking, I learned the importance of asking the right kinds of questions—why, what, where, and how—and of listening patiently rather than preparing a response in advance. I learned to repeat what I thought I had heard, to confirm understanding, and to accept correction when I had misunderstood. More often than I care to admit, I had misunderstood.  When disagreement remains, maintaining respect and avoiding judgment or personal attack preserves both relationship and integrity.

Trust in people or institutions will never be absolute. Only trust in God and in Christ provides a foundation that does not waver. Faithfulness to a Christian worldview does not mean giving up on people; it means refusing to abandon them. It is a way of living, not merely a way of knowing. That posture requires discernment when navigating the secular world, but it also requires seeing every person as made in the image of God—and treating others with the patience, humility, and grace that Christ Himself models.

In a time when trust feels fragile, how might we learn to discern wisely while still choosing to remain present, patient, and connected to one another?