One more step and I'd be on the bridge. Am I ready? Glancing over my shoulder at the well-worn dirt path behind me I notice for the first time how wide and sure it was. Back on that smooth terrain I even ran for a time feeling swift and empowered. I saw God’s glory in the sunsets and budding daisies. I heard His creation cries in the dove’s song and sensed his presence in the cool breeze. Not long ago, a friendly traveler handed me a trail map just to make my travels easier. He’d mentioned not wanting me to have to think too much, and pointed out an easier path, but it seemed to go in circles and it proved to always take me where I didn't want to go so I threw it aside. Today the path began to wind higher and higher as I sensed God calling me forward with every uphill stride. I couldn’t run anymore and my legs grew weary from the climb, but when I reached the top of the mountain and looked across the expanse I knew there is so much more to this journey than I had ever dared to dream. The only way to get there was by crossing the bridge. Dare I admit I don't like heights? There, just within sight at the far end of the bridge was an illuminated path. It was narrower than the one I’d previously traveled, but its beauty was indescribably inviting. Somehow I knew it was meant for me, and I was meant to have faith in its unseen destination. I just had to cross the bridge to get there.
Taken in with the inviting splendor of this newfound journey I step forward and hear the creaking of aged wood under my feet. Noticing for the first time how high the bridge suspends over the valley and how feeble the planks are sitting on the age-old ropes, I quickly retreat back onto solid ground. The pounding of my heart quieting as I glance behind me at the old familiar comforts of the known path. I was happy enough back there, for a time. Should I just turn around and walk back down the mountain? Familiarity entices and soothes my fears. God blessed me on that journey once, I’m sure he’ll do it again. Right? My heart knew the answer before I even turned to face the bridge again. My goal isn't to be the lifelong recipient of good gifts. Somewhere along that path my heart tasted freedom and now it wants more...more than what meets the eye. The unknown depth of my soul’s longing is to experience this journey fully surrendered to God's wild frontier. To stop clinging to my perceived control and get on the bridge.
So I step forward, trembling inch by inch. The bridge sways in the wind and sounds of falling boards ricochet and crack in the blackened valley below. Fear calls from the depths of my soul urging me to retreat to safety. Should I go back? The answer explodes from a newly awakened space in my heart and mind. Never. I grip the rail as tight as I can and run, tripping on lose boards, hands burning from holding on so tightly, fear warning me to stop, but running...and all the way laughing for the joy of finally living.
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Following Jesus is a journey. At unexpected moments, He calls us out farther and deeper than we ever imagined going, but with Him all things are possible to him who believes (Mark 9:23). Believing He is with us, his peace guarding our hearts and minds (Philippians 4:13) as we surrender every moment, even our most paralyzing fears, to Him who pours out his love for us (Romans 5:5) is our greatest adventure.
Where do you see yourself on your journey? Where do you see God? What fears lie beneath your bridge keeping you from experiencing the freedom of fully surrendering to Jesus? Where has God’s love been so evident to you along the way?
Jena M.
