A Bridge of Prayerful Hope

Recently, Kevin and I visited Natural Bridges National Monument in Utah, a destination we didn’t know existed until we saw a sign along the highway when we were on the way from here to there.

Sometimes unplanned adventures make the best memories.

Natural Bridges National Monument is home to three natural bridges: Owachomo, Kachina, and Sipapu. Sipapu is a Hopi word meaning “place of emergence.” The largest bridge—Sipapu—is 220 feet high and spans a length of 268 feet.

Sipapu—the most challenging—included switchbacks, handrails, slickrock, and two ladders pounded into the cliff face.

As a writer, I felt strongly that God was speaking something to me under those bridges, but I wasn’t sure what it was.

I waited, holding space for the Spirit of God to speak to me. I didn’t know then, that soon, a war would break out in the Middle East.

What did this have to do with bridges?

While listening to news reports of the region, a reporter interviewed a grown son whose mother had been killed in the war. His mother had believed in peace and had spent much of her life involved in the peace process between the different factions. And had died. In the early days of the war. The grieving son ended the interview with these words, “My mother wasted her life.”

Have you ever said that about your life? Maybe you haven’t said you wasted your life, but have you felt like giving up on something you have believed and prayed for? Are you in a space of wondering if all you hoped for will ever become a reality? I want to encourage your heart today. When you stand and believe with Jesus for what you do not yet see, your life is not wasted.

Wars. Conflicts. Relationship struggles. Unrealized dreams.

Sometimes we stand in a huge chasm and can’t see beyond the walls enclosing us.

Last month I spoke at a women’s event. For one of the sessions, the women wrote down prayer requests and burdens they carried that were weighing them down. Many wrote about concerns for children and grandchildren.

Many had lost hope in praying the prayer, “Your kingdom come. Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

At Natural Bridges National Monument, Kevin and I could have stayed with our feet firmly planted at the scenic overlooks. Instead, we stepped over the canyon rim to hike down to the bottom. Once there, we were in the rare position of seeing both sides of the chasm joined together by the bridges above us. We navigated over slickrock, balanced on rock-hewn steps, and descended around treacherous spaces—not unlike life itself with its difficult seasons.

Looking now at the photos, I realize we were not just standing in a canyon walled in with layers of Cedar Mesa Sandstone. No.

God was giving me a picture of what it means to hold onto hope, to stand in the gap, believing for what we do not yet see.

Because in that canyon, when we looked up, we could see the joining of both sides. Not just the joining of two sides of a canyon with a rock bridge, but much more. The joining of what is to what will someday be.

To stand and hold onto hope, the joining of what is to what will be takes spiritual eyes and heavenly wisdom.

Are you standing in a chasm believing for a future reality? For someone you love? For freedom? For peace? For the answer to a prayer?

It is not a waste of your life to stand in the gap with prayerful hope where you do not yet see the kingdom of God.

Do not lose hope. Look up!

A Verse to Carry in Your Soul’s Backpack

For all you holding onto hope as you face a chasm:

I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you.

Ephesians 1:18a