The Bridge

Gatlingburg

The Bridge

It was a harsh and stony pathway, but I knew the way was straight

It seemed so dark and hopeless, but I had to keep my faith

Trudging up hills, climbing rocks and ragged hedges

It took all the strength I had just to dodge the jagged edges

Slipping and sliding down the mountainside, voicing my complaint

My strength was gone, my courage failed, I was fighting not to faint.

I’ve made it to the foot of the hill, now the valley I must face,

Tired and beaten, so weary and worn, how can I run this race?

If I stop to rest, will I give up and die? Will I make it on my own?

This path is my life, now I clearly see how I’ve reaped what I have sown.

I’m at a river in this valley low; a raging, evil tide

“Help me God! Please help me, God, get to the other side!”

The fog began to lift in the midst of my despair and my fright,

My prayers were answered as I walked on, a bridge came into sight.

Cautiously I crossed the narrow way, for the water raged below

How this bridge had suddenly appeared, I surely did not know.

Looking up I see the mountaintop, where Peace and Love abide

It’s such a relief to have crossed God's bridge and be on the other side.

Halfway up I turned and looked, and cried at what I saw

My rugged bridge had been The Cross, where Jesus bore it all!

~Margaret~

Gatlinburg