To cross the bridge

I let him down.
This bridge I could have crossed–
I walked away.

I failed.
And I felt the failure like a knife in my gut.
With every step taking me further away from the bridge, the knife twisted.
It sent spasms of regret through my body.

How could I expect him to forgive me?
I couldn’t forgive myself.

I waited
as long as I could.
I stayed away
until I couldn’t anymore.

Then I faced him.

I tried to avoid his eyes,
but he looked at me and said,
“You were great.”

I looked up to see if there was sarcasm smeared across his face,
but there wasn’t.
There was only sincerity.

“You were great.”
He didn’t say I did good,
because I didn’t.
But that didn’t matter so much,
because I’m not valuable based on what I do, but who I am.

He went on to tell me
he was proud of me for even stepping up to the bridge.
Then he told me
how next time he knew I could
and next time he knew I would
cross it.
He even took time to explain how to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
He empowered me.

And you know what?
Today I stepped up to the bridge again.
And today I crossed it.


3 thoughts on “To cross the bridge

  1. This is how we all feel, Jordan. Thank you for making it more personal so I can see when I’ve let HIM down (every day). Jesus loves you and so do I! ❤❤❤👵❤❤❤


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