Burning Bridges Burn Out

As I turned to watch some bridges burn behind me,
A voice, soft but strong, spoke up to remind me:
"Remember, child, you did not start that fire.
Therefore all your many tears won't put it out.
Yes, you tried to cross the bridge in time,
But their high required toll had ruled you out."

I recognized the voice as One I used to know.
We spoke so often back when... well, awhile ago.
"Listen, Lord," I said to Him,
"I worked hard on these spans.
With years of toil and labor;
Do You see my calloused hands?"

His answer was so clear,
Like the answer He gave Job.
"Who really owns these bridges?
(And others around the globe?)
Don't you think I had a plan?
Don't you think I knew?"
His questions jarred my hurting heart,
And feeble faith fast grew.

"These weak bridges just couldn't last the years;
I knew that all along.
I pulled you safe to this side,
Before you, too, went wrong.
I could not let this bridge collapse
With you still crossing over.
I've better plans for you, my child,
That you'll soon discover."

In all my thinking on this fire,
This I'd never thought:
From danger, I was rescued,
And to this safe side was brought.
And just in time before disaster worse:
Before a bridge would fall while I traverse.

These burning bridges weren't His idea,
But still accounted fully in His plan.
Amazing how His Providence and care,
Around our weakness, holds us in His hand.

I could be shipwrecked like some over there.
I could've stumbled on the other side.
I could've tumbled down in that deep chasm.
But here I STAND! On this side, to abide.

And all because Lord Jesus saw my danger,
And chose the time to let weak bridges burn.
I see now how our bridges would've crumbled
Since on the other side, their road would turn.

Yes, their road would turn and go the wrong direction.
Might I turn as well, through my affection?
By grace, that crossroads I shall never face.
Because our bridge is fully burnt down now. By grace.

Victor Mowery, August 4, 2013