Cross the Bridges
In a spirit of expectation,
Antelope roam the brown and golden ridge.
They meander off the snowy mountain,
Wade the river, cross the bridge.
Beneath the dry and tasteless surface,
Lie treasures new and green.
They persistently stick their noses in
To find what can’t be seen.
Like antelope, we roam about –
Walking in hopeful anticipation
That just beneath life’s still, calm surface
Might lurk bright and growing expectation.
By wandering from our place secure,
By entering life where troubles lurk,
We meet opportunities to sow new growth,
Feed a needy soul, give a positive perk.
God asks us to be curious.
Come down off our snowy perches.
Cross the rivers of comfort and affluence.
Go beyond our homes and churches.
Dig beneath smooth, deceptive surfaces.
Find places where need and hurt abide.
Stick your nose in; get your feet muddy.
Provide new growth; dig beneath human pride.
In a spirit of expectation,
Roam the brown and golden ridges.
Meander off your snowy mountain.
Wade the rivers; cross the bridges.
Written
on March 1, 2014