Seasons of Grace

( I'm sorry this is a late post, Lent has begun, I wrote this earlier and forgot to post it then, but I thought you'd like to see it anyway.  )

http://www.mistyofchincoteague.org/misty.html

   One summer, we had the joy of going out to the East coast from the Midwest.  Aside from the usual delight we have had on all our travels of meeting new people, we had some really new experiences, like standing in the ocean surf at Chincoteague, and traveling over a bridge that undulates above the water, then below the water, then back above the water, through the Chesapeake Bay.  We had poured over all the sites that we would be near, or which we could make part of our itinerary, in the guide books for the states we would be passing through until we had what we thought would be a memorable trip.

     Anticipation was high for Chincoteague for those of us who had read about Misty but when we left the shore and started down the coastline I felt my unease building.  Since I was a child I have had a mild fear of bridges and when my children were all babies I would have nightmares about not being able to get all of them from their carseats, should we be in an accident on the bridge, near our house, that spans the mighty Mississippi River.  Every news story about accidents on the bridge or cars plunging into the river horrified me.  Now we were heading onto a bridge that dived beneath the surface of the water to accommodate the shipping lanes that pushed into and out of the bay.  I started praying quietly for peace of mind and tried to distract myself with sights that were new to me like the beautiful and the weather beaten farms that dotted the little communities or the seashells they used, instead of gravel, in the parking lots all the way down the coast line.

     As we approached the bridge, I tensed up realizing that the sun was setting and it would probably be dark as we crossed the bridge.  That could be good or bad, if I could't see the water, maybe I could cope better.  As it turned out, the day we crossed the bridge was Independence Day and as we started crossing the bridge, the fireworks began.    The communities surrounding the bay were lighting the fireworks of their community over Chesapeake Bay.  My husband was driving so I was free to watch the fireworks and take pictures. ( It worked!)  There was a kind of busy madness in trying to keep up with all the displays as we raced across the surface of the bridge.

     So, we went out onto the surface of the bridge then under, into the tunnels and back up onto the surface where we watched the fireworks. During the crossing I had the opportunity to see up close the power of the water lapping at the sides of the bridge and marvel at the engineering and inspiration of those who dared to dream of such a concept: multiple lanes of traffic dipping under the waves to allow the ships to pass unimpeded by the disappearing bridge, allowing the cars and trucks to continue racing across in spite of the enormous ships coming and going.  And just think of the skill of the people who attempted to accomplish such a feat in such conditions.

Now, we are a few years out.   I've thought about that trip many times. Now I am I thinking about how it mimics the year of seasons that the Church has placed in our lives.  The ups and downs of the bridge are like those seasons of our life.  Seasons of grace necessarily come with trials, Advent is a time of anticipation and, yes, sacrifice where we increase our prayer and prepare our lives, sometimes permitting distractions help us to cope with the sacrifice.  Lent is exciting and a bit scary. God is so much bigger than we are and the challenges we have to face are small in comparison to the ones the people who came before had to endure.  But all through the ups and downs of the season are the awe inspiring flashes of grace given in amazing displays, little sparks, or in loud booms. There are quiet times in the year and times of depth and involvement but it is this time of year, January, poised between the anticipation of Advent and the frightening but exciting season of Lent, that I ponder that bridge.