Where did the river go?

useless bridge*Take a good long look at this picture and it will come to your attention that something is amiss.  There is a river and there is a bridge.  But, one or the other is in the wrong place.

This is the Choluteca Bridge in Honduras.  It is a well-designed and fully-functional bridge built in the 1930s.  But in 1998 Hurricane Mitch dumped so much rain on the area in just a few days that the deluge of water carved a new channel for the river around the bridge.  It now sits on dry ground.  It is a perfectly designed bridge that has no purpose anymore because the river moved.

I’ve pondered this picture a lot this week because it seems to say a good deal about how life often happens.  People are really good at having and following dreams and goals.  And, that’s not a bad thing.  Children usually have an answer to what they want to do when they grow up.  My guess is, though, that most folks do not end up doing what they thought they would do as a child – or perhaps even as an adult.

The river called “single life.”

  • * Sometimes our strongest dreams do not materialize because of circumstances totally out of our control.
  • * When we are single, and career dreams disintegrate, we may not have the opportunity (perhaps luxury) to be employed in our chosen profession because there is no one sharing the financial responsibilities and we must simply work to pay the bills.
  • * Having a deep relationship with someone, especially one which might lead to marriage, is not something we control by ourselves.  It takes two who agree.
  • * There is often a fine line between being able to do for ourselves and being too independent – too cut off from anyone who can walk alongside us to help us sort out daily living.
  • * Some single folks revel in the independence of financial and time flexibility.  Others struggle with not having someone to work out hard details of large decisions, and find their time is not particularly flexible because there is no one to share day-to-day responsibilities.
  • * There are griefs to be borne alone in every segment of singleness:  :those who lose a spouse to death; those who lose a spouse to divorce; those who must be single parents; those who never marry.
  • * Often our married friends just do not get it – not because they do not care, but because their life focus has totally shifted.  Personally, I can be very happy for friends who marry and have children, while realizing that our friendship will be harder to maintain – and maintaining it is usually up to me.
  • * Sometimes our married friends express fear to us because they cannot imagine how they would manage if they were alone.  We are a constant reminder of aloneness.

For everyone, the river shifts its course when crises hits.  Catastrophic illness, job loss, and broken relationships all carve new river paths.  Good things carve new paths, too.  New job opportunities, financial blessing, and new rewarding relationships also make our life-river strain at its original path.

The bridge called “single life.”

I find identifying the stranded bridge to be a bit harder than recognizing the nuances of life.  (Now, these nuances have no connection with “50 Shares of Grey.”  That’s a whole different post.)

For many of us – me included – the land-locked bridge may have a name like:  “Fellowship of the Ring.”  There is a beautiful partnership signified by a wedding ring, and for years I have been one outside looking through the clubhouse window yearning to be a part of that fellowship.

While this is a God-given desire, it is not a God-promised desire.

Whether I see it, think it, feel it, or not, it is a “working together for good” because I am called according to His purpose.  (Romans 8:28)

It has everything to do with life-long hopes and dreams and a deeper walk with a loving yet firm Heavenly Father Whose love exceeds our imaginations.  Over the course of this blog, I’ve expressed continuing desire for close relationship and deep conversation with those whom I can cherish and treasure AND who cherish and treasure me.  But, I have trudged over this particular bridge for many years, and have finally come to see that it doesn’t serve a very useful purpose.

I honestly long for the kind of intimacy the Psalmists had with God.  They cried; they hollered; they raged; they praised; they sang; they loved.  They met God in the trenches and on the mountain tops.

And you know what?  God met them there every time!

That’s the kind of intimacy which overshadows every attempt we make to find the closeness we crave.

I’m discovering that God is not so interested in a bridge over my life river as He is walking through the life river with me.  Now, that’s what I call adventure!

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