There are paths on both sides of the river. On one side is the groomed rail trail used by joggers, bicyclists and leashed dog walkers, on the other is the rustic trail, used by nature lovers, mountain bikers and unleashed dog walkers. The rustic side sticks closer to the edge of the river, and when I'm walking on this side, sometimes I get a glimpse of something on the other side that I wish I could get a closer look at. But unless I want to take off my shoes and socks, roll my pants way up and risk slipping and getting wet, there is no good way to get across the river and remain dry anywhere except for this one bridge.
Bridges are important. Sure, you can always be an adventurer and try to find your own way across the river. One of my boys was saying, as he jumped from rock to rock trying to navigate his way across without the bridge one day, that "bridges are for woosies." This statement was made right before he fell in and got soaked on a 45 degree day. All I know is that taking the time to go out of my way and walk down to the bridge is always a sure path to the other side.
I can think of a lot of bridges in life that have helped me to get from the side I'm on to the side I need to get to. The church has been one, so have the 12 steps. Whenever I've had a good friend hold my hand through a rough time or a teacher who's shown me the way - their help has been like a bridge for me, too. Even though I've spent plenty of time in my life jumping fruitlessly from rock to rock, trying to forge my own way and often getting pretty wet in the process, I've had to accept that sometimes a bridge is the only good way to get across a divide in my life. A bridge is not just for woosies. It is for anyone who's serious about getting over to new territory. And we all need help in life, especially when we're headed into the unknown.
So I am grateful for all the bridges that have helped me across in life and for the ones before me that I have yet to cross.
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