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To my friend on the other side of the tracks
Fiona Keller • November 23, 2020
Hello my friend and a hearty welcome to you. The sky is darkening as evening comes earlier each day and the rain is pattering down. I’m sitting inside, warmed by the light of a fire and lamp, listening to the drip drip of the raindrops hitting the ground outside. I have been reflecting upon the level of division and discord that seem to be permeating society at the moment. This lack of harmony is soaking down into the very fabric of individual relationships. What, at one time not so long ago, was flourishing has now seen the very things that joined it together being torn apart. For the Christian world, this is a devastation. They body of Christ slaying one another through words if not through actions. Offering condemnation instead of hope. Bringing bitterness instead of joy. Raising up self-righteousness instead of self-sacrifice. Giving in to pride instead of humility. Oh and the fall out my friend. The cost of this war? And the world looks on. What do they see when they look to the church? Dear friend my heart is grieved. I fear we have lost our focus. However, I do not think all is lost. God is better than that. He is in the business of restoration. The story of humanity has been one of restoration since the very beginning, or at the very least the offer of restoration. It is not imposed upon us, we are free to be part of the story or turn our back upon it.
I am pondering two pictures that have been in my mind for the last day or so. Let me share them with you. One is a picture of two friends standing on either side of some railway tracks. The sky is grey and cloudy. The area has a forlorn look about it. Run down. Industrial. Battered and bruised. Buildings abandoned long ago. Weeds poking up through cracks in concrete, rubbish littering the edge of the tracks. Carelessly discarded by passersby. There is no barrier running along the edge of tracks. It is exposed. Accessible: dangerously so. I would expect to see a crossing but there isn’t one. Not here.
The other image is much the same in appearance, though the sky is brighter. The stark difference is the foot-bridge, with stairs that ascend next to one side of the track, a footbridge across the tracks and another set of steps descending on the other side. It’s a pretty industrial looking bridge. Completely fitting for the surroundings. Made of metal, hard lines, robust. It’s not an attractive bridge, not a thing of postcards and romantic photos. No, it is very much placed and designed for purpose and work. To remain solid, to be a means to allow someone safely across the tracks.
As I consider these images, my mind is drawn to the two people separated by the tracks. I wonder what their story is. I get the feeling that at one time, they were walking together along a trail next to the railway line. But now they find themselves here. It was a scenic path. Fine weather, beautiful scenery, a few sticks to cause some stumbles, but really a smooth path. Trains come through here occasionally, but it doesn’t really bother these friends. They are walking side by side. Easily able to hear the other’s voice, to see their face, their expression. They can tell when their friend is getting tired and sorely in need of a rest. Their hand is ready to offer a steadying support when needed.
Gradually the scenery started to change, the woodland dispersed, the flowers disappeared, the fields started to look dry and the appearance of concrete became increasingly frequent. At some point along this walk, there was a gentle, sloped pedestrian crossing to get over to the other side of the line. One friend crossed and the other kept walking. They could still talk, the gap wasn’t that far, but now sometimes when trains came by, they lost sight of one another. Sometimes, debris from the train dropped down on one side or another, sometimes hitting, sometimes tripping one or other of these friends. The trouble was that there wasn’t someone there to pick them up. They were separated by the tracks. When the train had passed, these friends would check in with each other but it got harder and sometimes the injuries sustained needed more than words could provide. There was bandaging that needed to be done, but no hands to do it. Tears to be wiped and a shoulder to cry on, but no arms to hold and comfort.
As the journey continued the frequency of trains hurtling by grew greater and greater. The scenery became dull. It became unattractive. It became unpleasant. And conversation grew harder and harder. Finally these friends stopped walking. They stopped, surrounded by the dirty, grimy, broken place they were now in. They stood and looked at one another. They each knew that the other needed them. They could see the pain. They could see the scuffs from the stumbling, the scrapes from flying rubbish. But they didn’t have the words to say. Each time one friend would try to cross those tracks, along came a train. There was no safe passage across. These trains were big, bulky things. Carrying the weight of the world. Sometimes fast moving and sometimes chugging slowly along. Sometimes carrying noisy passengers who enjoyed shouting out of the windows and staring at the friends as they passed by. Sometimes carrying freight, which spilled over the edge, dropping fragments along its path.
Time and again they tried to cross but there didn’t seem to be a way. Defeated and with shoulders slumped, each friend started to think about walking away. It would be easier than trying to get over the divide. But neither were ready to give up just yet. Each knew there had to be a way. They waited. They tried to start talking again. It was hard. The trains didn’t suddenly stop coming. This time though, these friends, they remembered that there was a station master who could help them cross. Both these friends knew this station master, it’s just that in the midst of all the noise and the flying debris and the obstacles, they’d forgotten that he was the one who could bridge the divide.
One of those friends put in a call and perhaps to their surprise found that a staircase was not far away from them. They started walking towards the steps and slowly started to climb. They were weary. They’d been standing for a long time. There were quite a few steps to get to the top and strangely these steps had names. Humility. Repentance. Grace. Understanding. Gentleness. Self-control. Forgiveness. Unity. As they were climbing they looked over and could see their friend doing the same thing. They could see when their friend lost footing and slipped as a train came hurtling by. They could see their friend trying. Their friend could see them too. Sometimes it would take a minute to catch their breath but these friends, they kept on climbing.
At the top of the steps was a footbridge. Built to hold the weight of all those people who would need to cross those tracks. It wasn’t fragile, it didn’t shake and rattle when the trains went by and printed firmly into the path was Love. These friends, well they met again on that bridge and they started to talk. Words came slowly at first, gradually gaining speed until conversation was flowing as though it had never stopped. From here they could see the trains coming down the track, but up on this bridge, there was no flying debris to hit them. They could talk about the coming train and how big or fast it seemed. They could see whether it was carrying people or things and they could see how loose the cargo may be. They learned which type of trains had caused the most pain to each other, which caused the most nervousness, which the most dread. Sometimes there would be a gush of wind that could rock their footing a little, but the bridge was firm and strong. When these friends stood on this bridge, they were safe. Holding the rail for stability. The great divide was down below. They could still see it but it no longer kept them apart. It was still ugly around them but the sun was coming out and lighting up shards of glass and reflecting beauty in a strange sort of way.
Dear friend - if you find yourself on the other side of the track, I am sorry. Won’t you climb the steps with me?
Father, I thank You for these man-made shells, which become our homes as they fill with noise and laughter, silence and tears, memories and hopes. I thank You for their protection, for the safety found within. I thank You for the life that grows surrounded by these walls; a place we make our own. Amen
When complaints often come easier than thanksgiving - I thank you Father for these dishes, which signify food and drink aplenty. I thank You for each mouth that partook of meals together. Amen
Mercy, peace and love be yours in abundance. Jude 1:2 Most gracious and loving Heavenly Father, I thank You for You have sustained me through this school year. I thank You for Your provision of strength and energy even on the hardest of days. I thank You for walking with me on the mountain tops: the moments of joy, the times of bonding and fellowship, the times when the learning and the teaching came easily. I thank You for journeying with me through the valleys. On the days I wanted to give up. During times of frustration and grumblings. On the days when learning was hard and teaching even harder. I thank You that I never left the shadow of Your wings and that You have seen me, valued me and noticed me as I have sought to lead and serve my family in this way. Lord, we are nearing the end of this season and oftentimes feel the increasing need for rest, for reprieve and refueling. Some days Lord, it feels like summer will never come. And yet some days time flies and I become aware again of the limited time I have with these dear ones whom I am not only tasked with teaching, but also with parenting and loving. Father, it is my desire to finish well. That we will not succumb to wishing away the time together, nor give in to half-hearted efforts put forth. Help us to find balance between being present in the here and now and thinking ahead to plans for the summer and next school year May You continue to be the source of my daily strength and joy. Remind me of my calling to teach during this season and equip me each day to face challenges with grace, love, humor and humility. Renew my spirit and uplift me as I seek to lead these children towards You, keeping my mind focused and my heart seeking You above all else. In Jesus' name Amen