2 Corinthians 5:7
7 for we walk by faith, not by sight
"I dunno', Bill. That's one rickety bridge. Look at it. The rope's all tattered. Some of the boards are warped and cracked. Sketchy. Reeeaaally sketchy."7 for we walk by faith, not by sight
"I crossed it two weeks ago, Jake. It looks like its gonna' collapse but it won't. And the trail on the far side of this gorge is awesome! Totally worth the crossing."
Jake eyed the bridge and replied, "I think you got lucky. The whole bridge looks like its gonna fall into the gorge at any moment."
Laughing, Bill said, "That's the fun of it! Crossing the bridge is an adventure. And you'll love what's on the other side. Come on. I'll go first so you can see I'm telling you the truth." With that, Bill stepped out onto the bridge. The ropes creaked ominously and the whole bridge sagged downward about a foot. Swaying and bobbing, Bill began to pick his way across the dilapidated structure, stepping carefully, both hands firmly gripping the ropes to either side of him. Midway across the bridge, he stopped and turned to look back at Jake, calling out, "See?! It's good! Holds me fine." Then, to Jake's horror, Bill began to bounce the bridge up and down, the ropes protesting with loud groans and creaks.
"Stop that!" Jake cried, alarmed. "Are you nuts? Just get off the bridge! You're gonna' weaken it more!"
Waving, a cheerful smile on his bearded face, Bill resumed his crossing of the bridge. When he reached the far side, he shrugged his pack from his back, dropping it to the ground. Opening one of its many pockets, he fished out an energy bar then he sat on his pack, facing the bridge. "All right," he shouted to Jake while tearing open the bar wrapper, "your turn. And hurry up. We're losing daylight."
Taking a deep breath, Jake stepped up to end of the bridge and gripped the parallel ropes spanning the gorge at mid-torso height. They were very coarse, bristly-feeling, and had a distinct musty odor. He looked down. Hissing, he released the ropes and took a couple steps backward, away from the edge of the gorge. It was a very long way down, the bottom of the gorge obscured in shadow. He wouldn't survive a fall into the darkness far below! Glancing over at Bill, who was now swigging water from a bottle, he reminded himself that his friend had just shown him it was safe to cross.
"We don't have all day!" Bill yelled, unsympathetically. He stood and lifted his pack onto his back. "Let's go!"
Jake stared at the bridge, swaying ominously in the mountain breeze. Sweat trickled down his face as he forced himself to be analytical. The bridge would support him just as it had Bill, his larger, heavier companion. Bill's horrible bridge-bouncing showed him the bridge wasn't a hair's breadth from collapse. Besides, the park service wouldn't allow crossing on a bridge that was dangerous to use. There was nothing to fear. He'd be fine.
Licking his lips, his blood pounding in his ears, Jake gripped the ropes again and leaned forward, putting his weight upon them. They flexed, but not overmuch. It was so hot! He wiped at his brow, looking over at Bill watching him, hands on his hips, a bemused smile on his face. "It's no good just thinking about crossing," Bill bellowed. "You're only gonna really know you can trust the bridge when you're standing on it."
His friend was right. He couldn't just think himself into trusting the bridge. True confidence in the bridge would only come when he was actually standing on it; he'd really know the bridge could hold him only when it was holding him. Jake sighed heavily. Then, gingerly, grasping the guide-ropes again, he extended a foot onto the first plank of the bridge, as though he was toe-testing the temperature of his pool at home. Bill's laughter echoed in the gorge. Jake ignored him, with careful slowness shifting more and more of his weight onto the bridge.
Bill began to sing tunelessly:
"Faith is believing a thing is so,
when it appears it's not so,
in order for it to be so,
because it is so."
Distracted by Bill's odd song, Jake's first step onto the bridge was accomplished before he realized it, his entire weight resting on the bridge, which swayed gently back-and-forth under him. It was holding him! A grin slipped onto Jake's face. Suddenly, an irrational urge to bounce, as Bill had done, flashed into his mind and Jake wondered for a moment at it, surprised by such an impulse.
"You're going to have to walk across it, Jake. I'm not going to carry you!" Bill shouted.
Annoyed, Jake shouted back, "Stuff it, Bill! This is my first time on this bridge! Cut me some slack, eh?" Jake's next step on the bridge was as careful as his first but by the time he was mid-way along its length, he was moving steadily, without hesitation, toward Bill. There was no looking around, though; Jake wasn't quite bold enough to do that. He was sure that if he considered again where he was, if he got too occupied with the jeopardy of the crossing, he would find himself crouched into a ball, paralyzed by doubt and fear, unable to reach the far side of the bridge. So, Jake just fixed his eyes on the planks at his feet and kept walking.
And then, Bill was right in front of him offering his hand. "An adventure, no? Clears the sinuses a bit; gets the heart pumping," he said as he pulled Jake off the bridge.
Standing at the head of the trail that disappeared into the woods only yards away, Jake began to laugh. "A walk of faith, Bill. That's what that was. A walk of faith."
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