Bridges of Steel

There were several bridges in Chattanooga that crossed the winding Tennessee river back in the years of my youth, including the Wilkes T. Thrasher Bridge (which carries cars over the Chickamauga Dam), the Walnut Street Bridge (which has now been converted into a pedestrian bridge), the Market Street Bridge (which is a type of drawbridge)  and the Olgiati Bridge (which is just a plain old four-lane bridge). The bridge a person chose to drive across was determined in large part by what part of town he or she wanted to reach ... or in my case, whichever bridge seemed less frightening to me at the time. You see, for as long as I can remember, I've been afraid of bridges. I don't like to walk across them or drive over them. I don't mind looking at them from a distance, I suppose, but even that makes my heart pound and causes sweat to break out upon my brow. Bridges, purely and simply, scare the heck out of me.

I'm not sure how many times I've made the drive to Chattanooga from Kansas City and back again over the last 20-something years, but I am certain that there are two distinct parts of the trip that always cause my mind to flood with trepidation. I loathe driving through Saint Louis because the interstate system there is so confusing and the traffic can be a nightmare if you hit the town at the wrong time. But even more than I hate Saint Louis driving, I absolutely dread the bridges I must cross on my way to my beloved South. I have no clue how many bridges there are all together, but I know that there are four bridges with massive steelwork that reaches into the sky above the pavement. Yes, I'm afraid of bridges as a whole, but those adorned with crowns of steel terrify the living socks off of me. When I see them rising on the horizon as I drive, I immediately grip the steering wheel of my car like a vise and the closer I get to them, the more I decrease my speed. I'm quite certain that people who pass me on the steel and concrete beasts are either laughing or cursing at this frightened little gray-haired gal as I creep across the objects of my fear.

I traveled a different route part of the way back to KC on my recent trip because I left from my brother's house in Kentucky rather than from Chattanooga, and I remember thinking to myself as I began driving ... Maybe going this way will eliminate some of the bridges. How great would that be if I miss a couple of them on this route? I was probably an hour or so into my drive when I saw it ... the biggest steel covered bridge I have ever seen, with three separate "humps" of steel rising into the air. "Well, that's not good," I said out loud to Ollie the wiener dog who was oblivious as he rode in his doggie car seat in the back seat of my car. "Ollie," I called out to the snoozing hound ... "Did you hear me, buddy? Not good at all. Look at the size of that bridge ... man, oh man, oh man." Fear wrapped itself through me ... not around me or beside me ... it went all the way through me to the very core of my being. I made a snap decision to pull over to the side of the interstate to try and get a grip ... oh wait, I already had a death grip on the wheel so I guess I pulled over to try and loosen up. I'm not sure how long I sat there looking at the gigantic pieces of steel, but since I'm back in KC, it's safe for you to assume that I eventually conquered the beast and drove on. I will, however, tell you that the closer I got to the triple-humped steelwork, the more rust I noticed on the giant beams ... holy, holy, holy moly.

Needless to say, after I made it across the bridge I needed to make a bathroom stop ... yep, go ahead and laugh it up on that one ... the phrase "scared the pee out of me" took on all new meaning for me last Saturday in the hills of Kentucky. Standing at the sink washing my hands, a thought made it's way into my mind and I realized God had a big lesson for me in that rusty steel bridge. By the time I got back to my car and lifted Ollie out of his seat for his own potty break, tears were streaming down my face and plopping on his little brown head. So here's the thing ... I can't tell you how many times I take a different route in life thinking it will be shorter or easier or less frightening only to discover that there is a big old triple-humped steel bridge in front of me that I must cross to reach my destination. There's no getting around it ... if I want to make it over the rivers of life ... the rivers of sadness or grief or loneliness or fear or illness or betrayal ... if I don't want to drown in the swirling, flowing waters beneath me, I have to cross the bridges one by one, hand-in-hand with my Lord. 

"Now this is what the Lord says, 'Don't be afraid, because I have saved you. I have called you by name, and you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you. When you cross rivers, you will not drown. This is because I, the Lord, am your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.'" Isaiah 43: 1-3.