I've Stared At That Before...

I've never crossed over the boards of that wonderful, fearful bridge.

The crossing before me often, yet for reasons I will discuss, my feet have never trod the planks of the bridge which leads over the cool water that flows below it.

But...

I have seen many travelers who have.

Just recently I was privileged to walk the path towards the edge of this intrigue.  My sojourner was a young man who had lived life doing what he loved.  Now who he loved would find life harder while the one who loved him sent his traveling papers.

His days were full and his bags were packed, he was headed out and each day, each breath lead him closer to the one trip he prepared for all his days.

Then, as if by magic and yet by pain, his voyage came to it's destination.  Now, as if again by design, the dreamlike destination became real.  And he was home.

Home.  He left home to go home.  Not double talk but instead hope filled, faith filled, eternity filled reality. 

Don knew his destination, his traveling plans and the one who made this glorious transition possible.  And so he crossed.  He stepped to the edge of the bridge and with courage that many lack, he stepped forward and joined his savior.  His family has hope.  Broken hearts, but hope.  Empty days filled with emotion, but nonetheless, hope.

I have stared at that transition many times.  Sometimes in person, but more often in the eyes of the hearts left behind.  There is something mystical, something very natural and uncomfortable about it, but no one escapes it.

We all have stared at this before.  Some of us often, some of us less.  Yet all have gazed and been amazed, or unsettled.  It all depends on your perspective.

Yet, when I've stared, death has never stared back. 

It has called to and brought to itself many I've walked alongside.  Many who were dear to me, family members who I miss terribly at times and would love to hear their voice just one more time.  It has called to even more whose friendship I cherished.  Oh that I could heal my heart or the hearts of my family and friends. 

And yet, an incomplete heart feels as if it will never be whole.  Well, it will, maybe here, but for sure by my own assurance from the same savior Don knew in a land over that bridge.

My last few lines I wish to measure well. 

You and I will always stare at death, it's the natural end to the days. 

A time when the blood flowing through our veins will pulse no more. 

One day death will stare back. 

I hope I face that bridge, that crossing, with the courage and faith Don did. 

I hope you do to.