Any one who has traveled with me very much knows I don’t like heights. They also know I don’t like bridges. I really don’t like high, long bridges! In fact, if at all possible, I will drive miles out of the way to avoid crossing such a bridge.

I was recently on a road trip with my youngest son, Jason. He was driving and clearly knows my feelings about bridges. We were in western Illinois and came to a long, high bridge. My heart started to sink as we approached it. Jason saw it too and started his teasing chatter reminding his poor old mother just how high and long it was. (He’s a loving child, don’t you think?) As we were driving across, I was trying to tune him out. I started to notice the view in the distance. There were rolling green hills, lined with trees that were just starting to change to their autumn colors. There were fluffy white clouds floating against a deep blue sky, and several geese were circling overhead. The sun glistened on the perfectly still water, and you could see a mirrored silhouette of the shore line. It was a gorgeous fall picture. At that moment it dawned on me that if I had avoided traveling over this bridge, I would have missed the beauty of nature that God was sharing with me. It made me stop and wonder how many times in life I have missed such an opportunity.