Crossing The Bridge

Crossing The Bridge

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I stared at it hard. My mind went blank as something unfathomable took root in my mind.

A perfectly harmless bridge, leading up to a hill far beyond. Made of ancient belian (Borneo ironwood), arranged vertically with gaps between them, gaps that led deep down to heaps of twigs, leaves and hard rock. Straight, steep and narrow, just wide enough for one person to cross at a time. No big deal. Like I said, perfectly harmless.

Yet, confronting me.

Now, when I recall that moment, it stirs up more than just a memory; it carries a vision. I never thought of it that way until now. That bridge did not just lead up to a hill, to a paradise of lush greenery and serenity—

But to a glorious kingdom like no other. The true paradise; unimaginable. I can’t exactly tell you what one might see there, but I do know that angels would play harps and sing, and all the people would dance and celebrate. Yes, all to glorify the One.

The kingdom of heaven awaited me up there.

And I, I had the chance to go there. All I needed to do was to cross that bridge. I wanted to. Who doesn’t?

But I was afraid. Afraid of heights, afraid of falling deep down into the abyss. My courage left me.

Have you ever been to that bridge before? I believe all of us have. Did you cross the bridge?

That bridge is my Christian walk. Yours, too. A straight path, but narrow. It is a simple path; no winding turns, no roundabouts.

But no one ever said it would be easy. Faced with challenges, tribulations and persecutions along the way, the path narrows down until it is just barely wide enough for us to get through if we persevere. The world, controlled by the devil, will do all it can to drag us down, force us to retreat.

There, I had the choice. That was the wonder of it all. I was not forced to cross that wooden bridge. I could just tell my family that I would wait for them to go up and come down again when they were done sightseeing.

You see, God never forces us to do something, even if it is always for our best. He does not force us to obey Him, to love and serve Him; He wants us to do it out of pure willingness. It is a choice we have to decide by ourselves.

From where I stood, just a step before the bridge, I saw its condition and the desolate ground beneath it. Somehow, the broken twigs, withered leaves and rocks looked more colourful than the bridge. My eyes would keep straying down, my mind playing images on me.

At that point, I had three choices to make.

The hard way never seems like an attractive option, does it? It promises trouble even before we start because we can already see it looming ahead. It can be frightening, painful. We give up even before we try. God seems too far ahead of us, and we lose hope.

Or it can be that we just get too indifferent to do something different. The easy way looks so much better, so inviting. It promises fun, luxury and basically, going with the rest of the flow. Almost effortless.

How funny. Just like the world.

Just stay where you are right now, and it’ll all be just fine, it says. I’ll give you all you want, as long as you listen to me and do what others do. Just stay. Can’t you hear it?

That’s what I did.

“Come on! You can do it!” Father cried. I heard it distantly, but audible enough.

But that is only one of the options we have. Sometimes, we do choose to cross the narrow bridge. The glorious sight from the hill, beckoning to us, gives us the courage, the desire to go there. The fire burns deep down inside. It is more than mere inspiration, it is passion.

But how long is the fire lighted? The bridge was made up of strong, hardcore belian. It could easily withstand ten people, if only it was wide enough. There was the assurance one would need.

Yet, we all know too well that the mind plays tricks. Devious, frightening tricks that no one wants to see but are artfully inserted into the mind by the toothless lion. Yes, toothless. The lion cannot bite, but he can roar and play with the psychological mind.

Losing hope halfway the journey is nothing unusual, isn’t it? The kingdom of heaven is somehow belittled by the world’s temptations, whether we are deceived by its mask or truly knowing how dangerous it is. The eyes are focused on the chasm beneath; the destination is forgotten. The flesh cannot resist its equal’s lure; it deviates.

Once the fire is lit out, it becomes cold. And the fear starts to creep in back again. And it grows stronger by the minute, as we walk on the planks of the narrow path. It conquers the mind, the footsteps are no longer sure; they tremble. Worse still, the end destination seems nowhere to be seen. The wooden planks do not look as safe, as sturdy, now.

We cannot carry on any longer. We buckle to our knees and panic, feeling miserable and overwhelmed in self-pity. Forgetting that another One went through worse ordeals.

Our feet refuse to move a step further along the bridge. Desiring rescue, but at the same time refusing to receive rescue by moving forward until we have reached the end. That is how we become stagnant, going astray in our journey. Better still, time to pull back and retreat if we have not started much on this walk. Back to square one.

I did that too.

Let’s now hear the third and final option, shall we?

We have the choice. To live it the easy way without experiencing the REAL thing, or to go through thorns and spikes to attain the REAL thing in the end. The latter sets the fire burning once we realise what we will truly miss out on if we do not choose that narrow path.

You ask, what is the difference between this and the second option?

I will tell you.

The fire continues burning until the end—and that has made all the difference.

The eyes stay focused on the true paradise far away. They have the choice, the temptation to look down; but they decide to focus on the hill above, where great rewards await them.

Because the eyes do not keep track of the ground, the feet might stumble on the belian planks once a while because of the gaps in between. Jolted for a moment, but nevertheless, the eyes are still focused up ahead. What lies ahead gives the strength and sheer will for the feet get up and continue treading on the strong, reassuring bridge. Along the way, an angel will occasionally encourage the feet to move faster, keep the pace. That is enough.

And before one realises it, she has reached the top. Breathless, sweating, bloody even, but triumphant. She is above her fears. They cannot touch her anymore.

“Well done!”

The third option is to go up that narrow bridge, never giving up, never letting that fire die down through fears or doubts. Until the very end.

And that’s what I finally did.