Across the Bridge

Across the bridge, there's no more sorrow
Across the bridge, there's no more pain
The sun's going shine, across the river
And you'll never be unhappy again.

I love this old song. It was written by my husband's niece many years ago. Its words should most definitely be the cry of God's people. And even though the bridge to crossover to the other side seems some distance today; tomorrow it will be just that much closer.

Building Our Bridge

During the time of the Incas, communities in Peru who lived near a river would build marvelous hanging bridges out of rope, hand woven of qqoya grass (a type of Andean bunchgrass). These handmade bridges were a means of transportation for people, their goods, and livestock. The bridge construction amounted to a pair of stone anchors on each side of the canyon with massive cables of woven grass linking the two pylons together. Two additional cables acted as guardrails. The cables which supported the foot-path were reinforced with plaited branches. The bridges were so heavy that they tended to sag in the middle, causing them to sway, sometimes violently, in high winds. Some bridges spread 220 feet across the canyon, and 118 feet above the river. What spectacular sights, these massive bridges – breathtakingly hanging over treacherous canyons and gorges, while tumult rivers loomed beneath.

The tradition of the suspension bridge continues today. Each June, hundreds of people join in the mountain community of Huinchiri in southeast Peru to rebuild a contemporary bridge in celebration of their cultural heritage and to honor their ancestors and religious beliefs. The process takes three days of round-the-clock work, with the women braiding thousands of pounds of sturdy, stout straw into ropes, while the men construct the bridge high over the perilous canyon. Ironically, this annually built structure stands just a short distance downstream from the steel girder bridge used for present day transportation; therefore, showing just how serious the Inca people take their inheritance and how determined they are to reverence their God.

Reading about these people and their desire to maintain their bridges started me thinking about our spiritual bridges – yours and mine. We most surely have a heritage to honor, a God to revere, and religious beliefs to uphold - but are we building a strong consecrated bridge to crossover someday? Can our bridge withstand the elements? When the winds blow and a cable’s footing starts to shift, do we find ourselves concerned or are we assured that all is well? Do we check its structural credibility often, quickly detecting any flaw, and then rebuild any abnormalities noted?

One of these days, we will have to cross our bridge. It will be a narrow path, and will be our only passage to the other side (no, we won’t be able to go upstream to cross another way). So when that day arrives, will we be able to say with certainty that our spiritual bridge has been soundly built and maintained so as to take us safely to the other side? Or will our bridge take us tumbling into a gorge filled with abuse and incompetent daily maintenance (finding us shattered and broken on the rocks below, or drowning in a river of no return)?

The Choice is Ours.

A Bridge to Cross

"Discipline is the Bridge

between Goals and Accomplishment."

A Crossover, A Way to Go Home

Last week was spent in San Francisco for my husband’s doctor appointments, so it allowed me a chance to revisit the wondrous beauty of the Golden Gate Bridge. Seeing its towering presence spanning across the two peninsulas brought reflections of the years I commuted to and from work across the bridge. Each day the trip was so special - seeing the beauty that God had placed all around the structure. However, the best part was the return each night. It was the crossing that would take me home (and inspired me to pen this vision).

In the distance looms a monumental symbol of strength,
with framework structured to bravely stand all alone,
its temperament as solid as the rock anchoring it in place.
What a magnificent span between two borders,
with cables suspending high above glistening waters,
a magnificent creation constructed with painstaking care.

Fortified gates open to greet the weary traveler,
as a welcome passage over nature's restraints.
Its centerpiece, a display of paired towers,
with columns joining clouds like friends meeting for a party,
allowing celebration of the victories of sovereignty,
yet bonding the mass into a place of agreement.

Not all will perceive its infinite dignity,
nor discover the importance of its existence.
A beautiful symbol linking city to countryside,
declaring the unity of man with the elements.
To many it is an invitation beckoning all to travel its pathway,
But for me, it is a crossover, a way to go home.

My daily crossings bonded me with the Bridge forever. Its majesty and strength are etched in my heart as a reminder of what my final crossover will be like, and the beauty I will see during that journey. I pray you too will etch a place of beauty in your heart, allowing you to reflect often on the trip home to see Him.