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That Flight that Sunk
by wallacetrust watosen
08/07/08
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That gorge has always been a deep ravine. Only that by and by, this one-time “valley of life” has carefully metamorphosed into a badland. Weathering upon weathering, the acres of table-top land has cracked, crunched and chopped off around the edges. The debris had crashed into the paradise below. Tumbling boulders had deeply etched jagged edges and had carved out craters for glacier in the slope. This landform now terribly rolls down into a rocky valley-bed into what pours an endless storm of river rapids and cataracts that only aid in eating wide the depression. And with each crawling second, these mountainous inhabitants are the more isolated form environs.

The team of constructors, who cared enough to bother, stood on the already worsening feature. They so loved the inhabitants to just let them be. They were aware that the only solution to this disaster was to evacuate inhabitants. Forthwith, they kicked off activity to communicate this “inland island” with safer grounds. Chiseling, nailing, sawing, mixing, laying and drilling; so had the plateau began to bustle with noise, work and hope for the entrapped race. Although every motion they made threatened the landscape to breaking-apart, the team was still determined to erect a crossover, and quickly

Slowly… and swiftly, these civil workers had pitched the trestles for the anchor arms of this structure. Crisscrosses of beams, bricks and rocks were soon lifted into pillars, piers and more trestles. It was quite a wonderful work so far so done.

Saving compliments for later, the team calculated the strength, weight and tensions that the bridge should endure; and meticulously wired in the necessary truss structures. The flights followed later. Finally, “articles of faith” were pitched per span to guarantee the balance of this civil construction.

By the time the surveyor has walked over the bridge for the umpteenth time, the inhabitants had already, packed up in desperate anticipation. Not minding the ages the construction took, their hopes never burned out. They did not expect any formal commissioning ceremony; hence, each one only waited only for the word, “go”…

They heard it.

At first the struggle was gentle, but with desperate ingrates behind, it soon became a stampede. Those that fell over were trampled upon. Those that slowed were stepped on. Vandalization started both for the rules and then for the structure. In spite of promises of a better life beyond the ravine, the stubborn people still picked along their “articles of ill-fate” from their past homes and displaced the balance-checker “articles of faith” on that bridge.

Losing its balance quickly, the compressions in the bridge became too compressed while the tensions grew over-tense. The human avalanche that crushed on the bridge could not hear the first arthritis-creak, neither did they the second… not even the last squeak that snapped bridge’s hinges. At last, as trestles knocked on trusses, the bridge swept its way into the depression… of course, with its human cargoes.

Before the inhabitants could realize some of them were sinking midair. A chorus of shouts and screams ushered in the agony that most of them would not get to experience. Suddenly, a boom of moraine and ice-dust, vapor, splinter and human-parts all rose in one unbelievable cloud. The impact triggered a chain of land shifts, as the bad land itself disintegrated in response—the natives themselves were a miserable sight.

In obvious frustration the remnants returned to their bitter memories; so stubborn, so stiff-necked.

For the team of civil constructors, the suspense was short. After all attempts to build this bridge, only but simple rules could not be kept. The bridge was not meant for what the people used it for; neither was the bridge ready for the excess luggage of their pasts.

Now, all the team could do was to return to their drawing boards. Perhaps a narrow one-man-wide bridge would check against for stampede.

And so, they resolved to do.

No better analogy describes how man frustrates efforts by God to link man and maker. Man is so adamant that the articles of faith he gave them in the tabernacle were held in disregard severally. That, we must note, was the only access they had to him—but they did not care much.

And, aside the numerous channels, covenants and avenues to lead man to salvation, God has settled to build man a bridge too firm to be crushed and too narrow to accommodate only man, not with his worldly cares.

That bridge, against blood of bulls, is Jesus.


If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

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Elizabeth Hexberg 07 Aug 2008
Another great piece, and I am wondering if it is also your Challenge entry? You are a skilled writer! God Bless. Elizabeth.




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