Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Where the Bridge Is

A couple of weeks ago I had some time to kill between appointments.  It had been an emotional week, so I parked along the river to enjoy some quiet time.  I sat on a bench under the shade of a willow tree and let the quiet wash over me as I shared my broken heart with God. I turned my face into the breeze and felt His caress in it. I breathed deeply and listened for His voice of comfort.  I am so thankful for a God who reaches across the distance to gather us in His arms.

As I sat resting in the quiet, I noticed a man walking along the shore on the opposite side.
The river was wide enough I couldn't see his features, but the man stopped directly across from me and gazed my direction.  I don't know what held his attention -- maybe it was the college campus behind me.  There seemed something lonely and thoughtful about the way he stood there looking over to my side, though.  As I gazed back towards him, I considered the fact that we were so close, and yet so completely separated by the body of water. I thought about that as a picture of us and God. I thought about the illustrations which show Jesus as the bridge between God and man. And as I sat there watching the man gaze across the river, it suddenly dawned on me that there was a footbridge just a few yards to my left. The bridge was there: close, and easily accessible. It was an imposing presence in the sky if you just looked slightly downstream. Yet the man just stared across the river as if he wanted to cross but had no idea how.

That's when it hit me.... how many times is God providing a bridge for us... and we refuse to move even just a little to use it? How many times do we stubbornly insist that this is where we want to cross; where we think we need to be? How many times do we beg for Him to make a way... when the bridge is already there...? How many times do we just need to move... just a little... to where the bridge already is....???


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