Crossing a bridge

There’s something about the Bay Bridge.As you drive across, you have the most amazing view—as long as you’re not too scared to look.

Many days there are fishing boats and sailboats and barges carrying freight. On a cold winter day, there are fewer of the small boats, but the view is still magnificent.

As a child, when I crossed the Bay Bridge, it meant we were on our way to a beach vacation—one of the most magical experiences of my childhood.

When I started dating the man who would become my husband, traveling east across the bridge meant I was on my way to visit him.

When we married, we lived on the Eastern Shore, and I crossed the bridge twice a day on my commute to Annapolis. The bridge lost a little of its magic for me then, but it never lost its majesty. It’s such an extraordinary structure.

I never minded crossing the bridge, except on the days of traffic jams. When you’re stopped in traffic on the bridge, it sways. You can pray a whole Rosary, covering all the mysteries, and still be sitting and waiting for traffic to move.

Today when my husband and I cross the bridge, we are usually heading to the Eastern Shore to visit my in-laws, who live there. We have our two children in the car with us. They are asking questions about what they see, commenting on the view, wondering how the bridge was built, curious about the boats far below. The Bay Bridge, for them, offers its own excitement.

Crossing that bridge is different every time. The water is never quite the same color. The light and the clouds in the sky vary. Some days there are birds in the sky, some days there are choppy waves, some days there is rain leaving a pattern on the surface of the water.

But it isn’t just the scenery that changes. The people in the car are a little different each time, too.

As we drive across, I can’t help but think of the other times we’ve crossed the bridge and how much has changed in our lives. And, when you’re sailing across the bridge, soaring into the sky, and looking down on the water far below, you can’t help but be in awe of the man-made structure against the backdrop God created.

For me, riding across the bridge is a time to set fear aside and place yourself fully in God’s hands, trusting that you will arrive safely at the other side. That brief journey across the Chesapeake Bay offers a time to marvel at where you are and where life will take you next.

There’s just something about the Bay Bridge.

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