The Bridge

I am terrified of bridges. Terrified.  My heart starts pounding. My breath catches in my throat. Black dots dance across my vision as I struggle to remain upright. Ooooh, just the thought of the last time I was on a bridge makes my stomach drop to my knees. (And it does not matter that this bridge was barely off the ground, sitting over a trickle of water no deeper than my bathtub.)

As I contemplate this silly fear, I realize that it isn't really the bridge that scares me.

The roaring water underneath scares me.

The gaps in the bridge scare me.

The fear of one of my children falling scares me.

The feeling of lack of control scares me.

But the bridge remains steady.

I can't help but notice the parallel to my life.

Jesus is my bridge. But when I take my eyes off Him, I stare into the rapids below me. I feel my head getting light as those dots start dancing again, skittering across my field of vision. Suddenly, I don't even see the bridge anymore. I just see the rapids. I hear the roaring of muddied waters. People who are mad. Situations out of my control. Financial fears. Bills. Cleaning. My to-do list. Job-related fears. I see my children, leaning over the edge. My heart pounds as I wonder if I am doing all I can to keep them safe. At times it feels like surely the roaring waters will reach them, will drown out my solitary voice. I see gaps. Now I know there are no gaps in Jesus Himself. But my theology and knowledge have big gaping holes and question marks.

But if I focus on the bridge, focus on Jesus, truth starts to align itself in my mind, overcoming the dots blurring my vision. My children may be looking around, growing, but they are on the bridge. They know intuitively that the bridge, that Jesus, is their place of safety.

Those gaps, those burning questions, seeds of doubt...they are nothing compared to the overall structure, picture of the bridge. No, rather, they are driving forces holding me accountable, reminding me that I have so much more to learn. Reminding me to stay ever close to the Father as I communicate to Him daily, sometimes hourly or minute-by-minute!

I grab the rail, hold on to my Bible, anchoring myself to the bridge. Suddenly I realize that the water is mostly noise. I realize that the bridge is supporting me, all of me. I see that my family skips fearlessly along the wooden planks, relishing in being up so high - yet feeling so safe.

I fully accept that I do not have control. I don't have control of the bridge (who would want to control our Jesus, awesome and mighty is He!). And I surely don't have control over all the noise of the water swirling around me. But I don't need to. I simply need to remember that the bridge will hold me and to not focus on the rest.

Suddenly it doesn't seem so terrifying.

But don't get me started on my fear of squirrels and rabbits. I have yet to find a biblical analogy for that!