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Buidling Bridges
By Michael Squires
Struggling down my road one day, I saw a man working out in the cold and gray
Down in a chasm wide and steep, where the turbulent waters run fierce and deep.
He had crossed over without delay, but now he vowed to build a safer way.
I said to Him, as I made my way through, “You’ve already crossed; what are you trying to do?”
He said, “I’m building bridges to be crossed after I’m gone,
You just never know who might need a steady rail so they can hang on.
I’m building bridges… for them.”
“What a waste of time,” I thought, as I hurried to regain the time I lost.
Then I found another bridge he’d left, and I paused a moment just to catch my breath.
And looking back on that long, rugged road, I caught a view of the truth as it now flowed:
I owed a debt of gratitude to Him – the Master Builder made me who I am…
‘Cause He was - building bridges to be crossed after He’d gone,
You just never know who might need a steady rail so they can hang on.
He was - building bridges… for them.
We’re all traveling on the same old road; He taught me to help my neighbor with his load. (So I…)
So I – take a moment when I can, to help build across the most treacherous spans.
So now I’m - building bridges to be crossed after I’m gone,
You just never know who might need a steady rail so they can hang on.
I’m building bridges… for them.
He was - building bridges to be crossed after He’d gone,
I just never thought I would need a steady rail so I could hang on.
He was - building bridges… for me.
And now I’m – building bridges… for Him
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