Bridge of Years

There’s one thing I can’t quite figure out in this well ordered world in which we live. A world where people marry and commit to live together ‘for better for worse, till death us do part’. If that coupling for life is set before us as the ideal, why, oh why then, when we approach the Bridge, only one can take it alone. The other stays behind on the other side. Stays behind, as the confusion and questions mount up. Lord, how long? How many years before I can cross? How will I cope? What shall I do with my grief?

On rare occasions, the two do cross over together.

But that is almost always due to pure accident, not the norm.

So here’s my question. Why would the God who put them together, to be one, undivided, to build a family, to endure sorrows and joy together, and to weather the storms of life, why does he then see fit to separate them?

What's the purpose in that?

You either have to conclude that God, in his overall planning, somehow, didn’t think through the end bit so well, or….    

That, for some, life includes this mysterious calling that we term widowhood, (or widow(er)hood, I suppose). If it is that - a ‘calling’ - a vocation in which to find meaning and purpose for this last season in life - this ‘bit added on’ until it’s my turn to cross that bridge, then it’s something that I, personally, have never seen adequately addressed, or written about.

Luke speaks about the prophetess Anna as having been a ‘widow’ since only seven years of marriage, and the verses indicate that she found her 'vocation' in a life of devotion and worship, that culminated in her, along with old Simeon, being able to welcome the Christ child at his coming into the world.

There is then, a purpose in being a widow/widower. But it’s a purpose mostly shrouded in mystery. And it's a mystery that only clears as you begin to walk through it. When we lived in Lisbon near the Vasco da Gama Bridge that crosses the Rio Tejo, at this time of year many mornings the bridge was shrouded in mist.

It would seem as though the vehicles were crossing into nothingness.

The reality of course was that, mist or no mist, the destination was real and defined.

The mist was no obstacle to the driver on his journey. 

Mist simply clears as you pass through it

So also in life.  The mist, mysteriously, clears.

** Luke 2:36-38