Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about bridges. Maybe it’s a coincidence, but my darling son, Jacob, seems to concurrently have an obsession with bridges as well. Today, he and I found ourselves alone for the morning after church. So, after an early lunch we headed out to do some adventuring and landed at a local park that just so happens to have some bridges to explore.

We got out of the car and went walking. Actually, I carried his husky, forty pound frame for about five minutes before he decided he was ready to explore. After spending some time on a bridge over a creek, we landed back at a historical bridge here in our town. The first time we walked through it, he refused to get down and walk on his own. There was a hesitancy in his demeanor as we approached. Could he sense that this bridge is well over 150 years old and that many people have been through it and on it?

As we walked across, the antique smell of the wood permeated our senses. The rough-hewn floor boards seemed to speak a quiet, “Welcome traveler.” We passed through in complete silence. On the other side, sweet Jacob was ready to get down. He walked slowly down the ramp and then suddenly seemed to come alive, “Bridge, mama! More, more bridge!” With that, we walked around to the other side to begin our next journey across.

But as we were walking, I suddenly felt a connectedness to all the people who ever traveled that bridge. It was built in 1832. A flood of awareness came into my being and I realized, mothers probably sent their sons to war across that bridge. Maybe never to be seen again? Newlywed couples had crossed that bridge on their way to a brand new life. Funeral processions had crossed that bridge; travelers bidding farewell to loved ones and friends. Every day, people used that bridge to get from one side of a creek to another; a means to get across an otherwise uncrossable creek. This bridge was a way to live life without interruption. It was a tunnel from one side of a world to another.

Of course, that took me deeper into awareness of all the bridges we, as humans, take every day. I’m not talking about physical bridges, although they are still used to cross bodies of water or chasms of earth. No, I became acutely aware of the all of the people, situations, circumstances, mindsets and choices that are bridges in our lives. People lead to us to other people and places. Choices lead us to a better or worse life. Mindsets create the way our brains function. Situations connect us to our next phase of life.

Friends, I don’t know about you but I realized today that there are about 100 bridges that I’m in the process of crossing or need to cross. Like my son, I am hesitant to get down out of the arms of what seems like safety because I don’t know if the bridge will hold up or if I’ll be ok on the other side.

But I think this is the thing; I am not in control of the Universe. God is. At church this morning, the sermon was on the passage of Scripture in Matthew 6 where Jesus is preaching on worry and how it does absolutely no good. Our pastor so lovingly explained that we worry because we’re trying to sit in God’s seat and control what we can’t control.

And that, sweet humans, is the crux of it right there. It’s not my job to control the outcome of crossing the bridge; my job is to cross it. Who knows what will be waiting on the other side?

 

 

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