There was once a bridge which spanned a large
river. During most of the day the bridge sat
with its length running up and down the river
paralleled with the banks, allowing ships to
pass thru freely on both sides of the bridge.
But at certain times each day, a train would
come along and the bridge would be turned
sideways across the river, allowing a train to
cross it.
A switchman sat in a small shack on one side of
the river where he operated the controls to
turn the bridge and lock it into place as the
train crossed. One evening as the switchman was
waiting for the last train of the day to come,
he looked off into the distance thru the
dimming twilight and caught sight of the
trainlights. He stepped to the control and
waited until the train was within a prescribed
distance when he was to turn the bridge. He
turned the bridge into position, but, to his
horror, he found the locking control did not
work. If the bridge was not securely in
position it would wobble back and forth at the
ends when the train came onto it, causing the
train to jump the track and go crashing into
the river. This would be a passenger train with
many people aboard.
He left the bridge turned across the river, and
hurried across the bridge to the other side of
the river where there was a lever switch he
could hold to operate the lock manually. He
would have to hold the lever back firmly as the
train crossed. He could hear the rumble of the
train now, and he took hold of the lever and
leaned backward to apply his weight to it,
locking the bridge. He kept applying the
pressure to keep the mechanism locked. Many
lives depended on this man’s strength.
Then, coming across the bridge from the
direction of his control shack, he heard a
sound that made his blood run cold. “Daddy,
where are you?” His four-year-old son was
crossing the bridge to look for him. His first
impulse was to cry out to the child, “Run!
Run!” But the train was too close; the tiny
legs would never make it across the bridge in
time. The man almost left his lever to run and
snatch up his son and carry him to safety.
But he realized that he could not get back to
the lever. Either the people on the train or
his little son must die. He took a moment to
make his decision. The train sped safely and
swiftly on its way, and no one aboard was even
aware of the tiny broken body thrown
mercilessly into the river by the onrushing
train. Nor were they aware of the pitiful
figure of the sobbing man, still clinging
tightly to the locking lever long after the
train had passed.
They did not see him walking home more slowly
than he had ever walked: to tell his wife how
their son had brutally died.
Now if you comprehend the emotions which went
this man’s heart, you can begin to understand
the feelings of our Father in Heaven when He
sacrificed His Son to bridge the gap between us
and eternal life. Can there be any wonder that
He caused the earth to tremble and the skies to
darken when His Son died? How does He feel when
we speed along thru life without giving a
thought to what was done for us thru His Son.
