Crossing bridges—Friday’s Fave Five

Do you have gephyrophobia?
It’s the fear of crossing bridges.

Traveling to Grandma’s house as a child from Alabama to Mississippi meant crossing the drawbridge in Decatur.   Back then, I wasn’t so sure that my dad wouldn’t try to jump the gap of an open drawbridge.

So I hated that bridge. I was afraid we’d get caught on it halfway up.

But crossing the bridge meant one step closer to eating supper (in the car, of course). We had to wait until the other side of Decatur to eat our bologna sandwiches packed up by my mom. And share the one thermos of water she brought for all six of us (Just 1, Mom? Reducing unnecessary bathroom stops?).

The Keller Memorial Bridge has since been torn down, and a new concrete bridge stands in its place. I’m not crazy about driving over that bridge either, or any high bridges over water.

But I do appreciate that bridges get me to the other side.

Here are 5 bridges that have served me well this week.

1. From old home to new home
We drove by my parents’ house last night and I cried anew at its emptiness. So much change in such a short time.

But I am incredibly thankful that we’ve successfuly bridged my mom to a new home where she receives great care and love. The staff at her assisted living facility are incredibly kind and gentle with her, and love on her more than I could ever have imagined.

2. From pain to pleasure
My mom’s knees hurt horribly from arthritis. To get cortisone shots Wednesday first meant getting into a car, which is a fearful thing to her, one obstacle of many small things we take for granted. Once she survived that, she had to adjust to the pouring rain while we crossed the Tennessee River.

When I passed a slow car on the bridge, she surprised me by saying, “This is dangerous.”

It made me laugh, but sometimes we have to do what seems dangerous to get us from pain to pleasure. She got the shots that day and hopefully will feel much better.

3. From child-rearing to empty nest
I’m temporarily stepping out this week on that bridge between one shore of active child-rearing to the other shore of empty nest. Jenna has been on a mission trip so it’s just been Jeff and me at home. While I’m not ready for Jenna to be gone full-time yet, I have to admit that for this week it worked out just fine.

4. From Grandma’s tradition to mine 
Orange circus peanuts bridge the gap between generations. My grandmother used to keep these at her house, and occasionally I’ll buy a bag for nostalgia’s sake. (And because I love them!)

I discovered last night I’m not alone—I drew out quite a few other peanut lovers (and okay, a few haters) when I posted about them in my facebook status.

5. From danger to deliverance
Bridges are meant to bear only a certain load. Exceed their capacity, and they’ll break. Certain temptations I can bear up under, but I don’t want to exceed my capacity to obey by walking along with a temptation when I should be running away from it.

“Rock of Refuge” has been a special song to me for a long time, but this week it took on an even deeper meaning. It tells me from Psalm 31 where I’ll be safe, where I should run, and what to do when I get there.

Did you know that some cities offer services just to drive you over a bridge?

Jesus does that and is that for us. He is my bridge—from death to life. He removes my guilt; he makes me righteous; he bears my load. I praise him.

No need to be gephyrophobic with him.

I will rejoice and be glad in your steadfast love,
because you have seen my affliction;
you have known the distress of my soul, 
and you have not delivered me into the hand of the enemy;
you have set my feet in a broad place.
Psalm 31:7-8

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For your educational pleasure, watch this 1-minute video on how drawbridges work:  What bridges have you crossed this week?
Eaten any orange circus peanuts along the way?
You either love ‘em or hate ‘em!

Join Susanne for more favorites this week at Friday’s Fave Five.