I've been thinking about bridges. We have this bridge west of our farmhouse and hermitages. It goes over our creek and leads to the Sacred Path in the woods. This bridge can take you from our farmyard traffic to a place of shaded solitude. Bridges.
This month of July might be labeled summer; however, I see the leaves beginning to change from the fullness of green toward yellows and brown. Summer is a time all its own. I don't want to miss a day of it. Why do I feel one foot already stepping into fall? Are we always walking on a bridge from one time to another, one place to another? How do I just be here in one time, one place, one day?
In our Franciscan community, we are invested in the fullness of today's services in many parts of our world. At the same time, we look to our diminishing resources with eyes of humble servants. While we live fully today, we have an eye to the future. How are we to be good stewards for what was so necessary for us yesterday but apparently won't be needed tomorrow? We are on a bridge. I say, let's move onto and over our bridges with all the enthusiasm we can muster.