Tales from the Bridge.

I’ve always looked at bridges as the means to get from one place to the next. But, what if we reframe this perspective and see them instead as the destination?I recently moved to the south of France, and before I got there, I did a little sightseeing around Europe. I went to London and explored neighboring English towns, and then I took the Eurostar across the Channel to Paris. If you have been to Europe or know anything about Europe, then you know about how much you walk. You walk everywhere. In fact, the cities are designed around pedestrian walkways.One time, I was on a tight schedule, and I was in a hurry to get from one place to the other. That was until something happened to me—a place happened to me. Has that ever happened to you? You're walking along and then bam! You discover some beautiful little world that you've never discovered before, and your heart begins to race with the whimsical excitement of something new.The best places are those that just happen to you. It's kind of like falling in love. You don't ever plan it; it just happens. You're walking down the street minding your own beeswax and voila, there it is! Because it's unplanned, you have no expectations, only anticipation—anticipation that good and beautiful things can happen. Anticipation that those things could come at any moment, happening in the normal meter of the day.There was a bridge that happened to me was in Paris. Oui, Paris. I was hurriedly walking across, trying to get to some museum or cafe or who knows what, until the view hit me. I stopped and just stood on the bridge, taking it all in. To my left the Tour de Eiffel stood proudly, a rosy hue surrounding it as the orange and pink colors of the sunset faded just to its right, over the city skyline. Closer to me, locks of lovers dangled over the bridge's edge, precariously placed but holding tightly around each other, trying to avoid becoming like the locks laying far beneath them on the floor of the Seine. The Seine River flowed elegantly below, like a thick curtain draped over a window, holding secrets and a world beyond.This was one of my favorite moments. It was also a vulnerable moment for my heart, as I think it is for any lonely heart that's surrounded by lovers. In this moment, I found that I could let one of two things happen: I could easily compare myself to the happy couples and draw away from God, being in the most romantic place in the world without that special someone, or I could focus on God, who was romancing my heart and pulling me in on a whole new level. Thankfully, I chose the second option. Never have I felt so close to and so loved by God than I did then. And, all because I slowed down and stopped on this bridge.Bridges can be a destination, despite their intended purpose. So often in seasons of waiting—those seasons where I feel as if I'm on a never-ending bridge—I can't help but focus on wanting to get to the other side.But I’ve learned (and am still learning) how to live life contentedly from the vantage point of the bridge. To be content in seasons of waiting, not anxious to get to the next thing but living each moment to its fullest and seeing what will unfold.I've found that Jesus loves the bridges, figuratively and literally. He loves for us to trust Him with what's coming on the other side, what's in our past, and ultimately what He's doing in this present moment.My favorite moments so far of my travels have been sitting on the bridges I've come across, watching the rivers flow by below, watching people, listening to Jesus, letting my thoughts stir with the waves of the rivers, and taking in the view that only a bridge can offer. It’s quite the view, and I wouldn’t miss it for anything.words by Abigail White and photo by Kailin Richardson