When I first saw this photo, I had to swallow hard. That is not a bridge I’d be able to cross. The photograph is of the Carrick-a-rede-rope bridge in Northern Ireland and connects the mainland to a tiny island. It is now a tourist attraction, but was once used by salmon fishermen for over 350 years. It is 98 feet, above rocks and the sea, built only of wood and ropes. It is easy to imagine how it would sway when one crosses to the little island on the other side.

It reminds me of  bridges in my own life … the sometimes difficult paths that I am traveling to places I want to go. Just like real bridges, some of these can be crossed in hours, days, or maybe years. Some are nice and secure and amazingly happy, like when I used to walk over the Brooklyn Bridge, and some are much more challenging, like this one would be. Some feel like they have a sheer drop to the sea and cliffs below.

We all have bridges we need … or want … to cross. I’d had a discussion of this metaphor with a friend a few years ago; a particular challenge I faced, (and still do), seemed the equivalent of crossing this rope bridge. How would I get where I wanted to go? She suggested I imagine the rope bridge bathed in white light, one continuous safety net. I accepted this in theory, but it didn’t banish my fears. And then I had a thought. If I really, truly wanted to get there, I could crawl. Maybe not a bold or terribly brave move, but if that’s all I can do right now? Then I can crawl.

And sometimes that’s what we have to do. Some days we can dance around and through wherever we want to go. Others we can walk with our head held high. But if we sometimes have to crawl to get there,  at least we can say we never gave up. One day, one step at a time.

We’ll all get there.