The Bridge

Imagine that you are lost in the mountains. You come to a deep ravine across which is a rickety footbridge. You are exhausted and scared and hungry. You are terrified of heights, but there seems to be no choice but to try to cross. And so you decide it's your only hope.





You take a few cautious steps onto the bridge; it shudders and swings slightly. Your every nerve screams for you to turn back, but you are frozen with fright and cannot. Against your better judgment you look down feeling sick and dizzy and your skin tingles. Panic nearly keeps you from breathing. Finally, you lower yourself onto your hands and knees and inch your way toward the other side.

You have nearly reached your destination when you hear footsteps running toward you across the bridge. You can't bring yourself to turn around to look, but you know by the sounds and by the violent swinging of the bridge that someone is coming. Suddenly a group of three joggers thunder past you and land safely on solid ground just ahead of you. Feeling foolish, you complete your creeping journey and meet the waiting runners.

You are safe and they are safe. On what did your safety rest?

Sometimes I am creeping through this life, full of fear and panic. This is when I must remember that my peace does not depend on the strength of my faith but on the eternally trustworthy Object of my faith. Surely it's better to inch fearfully through the Christian life than to remain immobile, but how much better to run with confidence because the Bridge will never fail.

Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith...

 Hebrews 12:2