A very versatile word. So many images come forth with that word, bridge. My favorite is the musical ones. A transition from one part of music to another or another part within.

There is an important part of a guitar that holds the strings to the face with bridge pins and it is glued on to the face usually about half way from the upper bout to the end pin, got it?

That’s musical bridges as far as I know. Might be more.

There is the classic card game, bridge. The place on our ship where the captain and all the controls were located is also the bridge. Above that was the CIC or combat information center, but everyone called it the combat bridge.

A bit down the list is the structure bridge which usually connects land over rivers, estuaries, canals and gorges and rivers. We drive over them every day and the only glance is usually to see if there are fisherman to be avoided or if it is slippery or icy from the cold air beneath it.

There are a lot of bridges in the bay area of California, my favorite was ‘the Bay bridge’ which connects San Francisco to Oakland/Berkeley. I went over it a lot and my favorite time was with a fast Triumph on loan that started rising up on the front shocks when I twisted the throttle wide open at 60. I thought the front wheel was next to rise up. Stunt riders do these things, not me.

The Golden Gate that connects ‘The city’ to Marin country is famous and the toll was one dollar each way back during the summer of love and Haight Ashbury days. Perhaps the better word would be daze. I understand it is at least 8 dollars now. Four lanes each way and always full. You can walk across either of them. You can see Alcatraz island if you know where to look. It’s a tourist trap, don’t even bother. To complete the scene is the New Richmond bridge and no one knows where the old one was.

The bridge I am fascinated by is the one between us and Jesus. Written about by scholars and fools like me for centuries. It seems like an impossible chasm to cross and it seems to be that there is only room for one at a time on that highway of Holiness allowed. No one can cross it with you and the bridge toll is your life. You know it’s there, everyone does. The journey usually begins with getting into the water going under for a bit till you are ready to come up. Dead for a bit. That’s what pastor Barry said to me when I was baptized. What did you see when I was down there on the sand bottoms? “A dead man” was his reply.

I once had a lucid vision of Swimming in that water with Jesus, a while back and He and I were doing the side stroke, face to face. He told me He knew I enjoyed swimming and I could breathe under the water. Wow. I asked Him how deep was it and He answered, “how deep do you want to go?”

I opened my eyes, sat bolt upright and realized my damaged leg was healed and I have never been the same since. It’s called a baptism in the spirit. Another ‘bridge’ in my life that connected me with eternity. So many bridges we have around us and now and then, one comes to us that in crossing it, we never need to go back.

My current assignment is to tell people the difference between understanding and believing. Knowledge and faith. It’s just words until they go into your heart, then Faith occurs. Read about that too, Faith, the very gift of god. It’s pretty good, Norm the Gator Jack