Broken Bridges

 

In the shadows of doubt where my heart often hides,
Where trust lies in pieces on opposite sides,
Of canyons carved deep by the waters of pain,
I wonder if bridges can be built again.

Once broken, each promise leaves cracks in the floor,
Each word left unspoken becomes a locked door.
I've gathered these fragments, built walls out of stone,
Protection from loss, from standing alone.

Yet something still whispers beyond my defense,
A voice that cuts through all my practiced pretense:
"I have known every wound that has caused you to flee.
The trust you cannot give others, give Me."

In hands that hold galaxies, what is my doubt?
In love that moves mountains, what walls can stand proud?
The God who sees sparrows when they fall to the ground
Sees me in my hiding and still sticks around.

I have measured love by the weight of mistakes,
Have feared that betrayal is all trust creates.
But love is not measured in flawless intent,
It is seen in redemption, in grace that is spent.

Slowly, I'm learning to open again,
To risk what was broken, to offer my hand.
For trust isn't merely a bridge to repair—
It's the courage to cross it when someone is there.

With each step I take on faith's fragile beams,
I find that God holds what humans redeem.
And maybe, in trusting despite all my fears,
I'm finally seeing what I've sought for years.

But still, my hands tremble, my steps hesitate,
The weight of past wounds still burdens the gate.
I pause, afraid—what if love fails?
What if history repeats its tales?

God whispers, "I do not change, I do not leave.
My love remains, so come and believe."

So I step forward, though my voice shakes,
I loosen my grip on old heartbreaks.
For trust isn't perfect, nor free of pain,
But it is the choice to love again.

And here, upon this bridge rebuilt,
Where grace has covered what shame once spilt,
I see not just safety, nor guarantees,
But the arms of God are reaching for me.

It is not perfection that keeps love alive,
Not the absence of doubt or the promise to strive,
But the willingness to stand when the walls start to fall,
To kneel in surrender, to answer His call.

For trust isn't the absence of pain, fear, or night,
But choosing to walk forward anyway, toward the light.