“The Iron Bridge”

While driving down a country road, there along the side of the road, surrounded by weeds, was an old rusty, iron bridge crossing… well, crossing nothing. The weather and elements had corroded the towering steel beams. It stood out like a sore thumb. It felt strange that the bridge led to nowhere. It no longer served a useful purpose. Was it once used to cross a ravine or a river? What was its history?
Bridge
Staring at that bridge, I reflected on its existence. The bridge still had a powerful presence. Its imposing size interrupted the landscape, calling out to be noticed. The existence of this old relic along the side of the road illustrated the richness and strength of its past, while reflecting the passage of time.

Like the bridge, I too, have aged. Time has left its scars on me and occasionally, my body feels a bit rusty. I choose to push on and try to make a difference in the landscape of life. The famous playwright, Thornton Wilder once said, “There is a land of the living and a land of the dead and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning.”

Each of us has spent time standing out in what seems to be a lonely field. Pull those weeds that surround us. Turn weakness into strength and make a connection to someone in need of finding a purpose. Make the landscape both more useful and beautiful. God has given each of us a purpose. Strive to be a bridge of love that survives through the elements and stands the test of time.

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