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The Bridge
There was once a bridge which spanned a large river. During most
of the day the bridge sat with its length running up and down the
river paralleled with the banks, allowing ships to pass thru freely on
both sides of the bridge. But at certain times each day, a train would
come along and the bridge would be turned sideways across the river,
allowing a train to cross it.
A switchman sat in a small shack on one side of the river where
he operated the controls to turn the bridge and lock it into place
as the train crossed. One evening as the switchman was waiting for the
last train of the day to come, he looked off into the distance thru the
dimming twilight and caught sight of the trainlights. He stepped to the
control and waited until the train was within a prescribed distance
when he was to turn the bridge. He turned the bridge into position,
but, to his horror, he found the locking control did not work. If the
bridge was not securely in position it would wobble back and forth at
the ends when the train came onto it, causing the train to jump the
track and go crashing into the river. This would be a passenger train
with many people aboard.
He left the bridge turned across the river, and hurried across
the bridge to the other side of the river where there was a lever
switch he could hold to operate the lock manually. He would have to
hold the lever back firmly as the train crossed. He could hear the
rumble of the train now, and he took hold of the lever and leaned
backward to apply his weight to it, locking the bridge. He kept
applying the pressure to keep the mechanism locked. Many lives depended
on this man's strength.
Then, coming across the bridge from the direction of his control
shack, he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. "Daddy, where are
you?" His four-year-old son was crossing the bridge to look for him.
His first impulse was to cry out to the child, "Run! Run!" But the
train was too close; the tiny legs would never make it across the
bridge in time. The man almost left his lever to run and snatch up his
son and carry him to safety.
But he realized that he could not get back to the lever. Either
the people on the train or his little son must die. He took a moment
to make his decision. The train sped safely and swiftly on its way, and
no one aboard was even aware of the tiny broken body thrown mercilessly
into the river by the onrushing train. Nor were they aware of the
pitiful figure of the sobbing man, still clinging tightly to the
locking lever long after the train had passed.
They did not see him walking home more slowly than he had ever walked:
to tell his wife how their son had brutally died.
Now if you comprehend the emotions which went this man's heart,
you can begin to understand the feelings of our Father in Heaven when
He sacrificed His Son to bridge the gap between us and eternal life.
Can there be any wonder that He caused the earth to tremble and the
skies to darken when His Son died? How does He feel when we speed along
thru life without giving a thought to what was done for us thru Jesus
Christ?
When was the last time you thanked Him for the sacrifice of His
Son?
 
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