The Great Intimidator.
Then, I moved to the South.
Down here, land is flat, near sea level, and does not rise around you (or even in the distance) to offer the perspective of being at even heights when you’re cresting an arching bridge. And the bridges ALL seem to arch because, of course, the land is flat, so the bridges must swoop you up high over a river, swamp or marsh so that boats and ships can pass beneath you.
The problems with such bridges are twofold:
First: When you’re at its peak, the full sweep of vertigo and dizziness can strike you because nothing – NOTHING! – else is that high around you. The land is far below, at sea level.
Second: This is the scarier of the two: As you’re crossing, you can’t see to the other side because it’s not a flat bridge. In other words, I’ve made many trips around south Georgia and north Florida, and as I’ve rounded a forested corner – bam! – right in front of me looms the full upsweep of an arching bridge, the part that whisks me to the peak.
The problem is, I can’t see beyond that.
I can’t see the downsweep, the comfortable ending that assures delivery, that deposits me on firm ground.
And so it was, the other day, that I came upon such a bridge and, as usual, took a deep breath, but assumed safe delivery, thinking all the while, how much we place our trust in engineers and road crews.
We trust that they did not build half a bridge.
We trust that the rest of the bridge will be there and reveal itself once we’re at the top.
We trust we’re not going to climb to the peak, just to go plunging into the air and certain death.
We blindly trust that we will land safely on the other side, able to resume our trip.
So, why (given that God is so much greater than engineers and road crews ) when He leads us to a turning point – that bridge between the closed door and the open window – why don’t we trust that He will provide the unseen sweeping down part? The half that assures delivery and deposits us on firm ground on the other side?
Instead, we often approach the bridge that God provides with hesitation, sometimes slowing down as we rethink going across.
Do we trust fallible road crews but not our infallible God?
Do you trust the bridges God provides in your life? In your writing? Your profession? With your family?
Pastors have told me that “Do not be afraid” is written in the Bible 365 times. So there you go – one for each day. Our task is to have faith.
And, as my grandmother used to say: “Let God and Let Go”…
…because Divine bridges always go all the way across.