Bridges or Walls?

Truth be told, when I moved into my office 12 and a half years ago, I didn't like it. I didn't like the shelves. I didn't like the walls. I didn't like the long frosted windows that are too high up on the wall. I didn't like the carpet. I didn't like the brown curtains. I did like the desk. I also liked the picture on the wall, until the former preacher came and took it with him - it was his. So we had shelves built and I have since added six shelf units (bookaholic here). We covered the walls with a loud obnoxious wallpaper that I liked at the time. We have replaced the window a/c unit with a newer one. I have some of my small ceramic dogs and coffee mugs that I collect around. I have many pictures of my family in frames. I have my beloved computer. I still have the carpet and windows I didn't like. I bought a new (used) lamp for my desk that I really like. But in all, it's a comfortable room. Too comfortable. In creating the office I wanted, I built the walls around me. From within these four walls I can communicate with the world, and yet nobody at all. I can write words that people like to read, and never speak to anyone. I can create bulletins that will go into 300 homes, but not shake anyone's hand. I can write notes of concern, but not give a hug. I can create websites accessible to anyone on planet earth, but not have a meaningful talk with a hurting person. I can read enough theology to make me an expert who can answer most questions without a blink, but seldom teach a soul about Jesus. This week I have purposefully done some things to build bridges to other people. I don't want to talk about what these things are, it's not important. But I have been out of my cave some this week. I have set some things in motion that will require that I get out the cave more. And that means I've been building bridges. I need to tell you I'm not a very good bridge builder. I panic in conversations and cannot remember the name of the person I'm talking to - even if I've known them a long time. My mind races as I try to think of something ... Anything ... To talk about. I am sometimes overeager and talk too much, probably even annoying the person I'm trying to build a bridge with. It would be a lot easier for me to not bother trying to build bridges. That is an option I would consider except that I have yielded my life to the master bridge builder. He builds bridges that no one can build. His bridges extend to those whom no one else even wanted to build a bridge. He did, after all, build a bridge to me. As the second greatest commandment instructs, I will build bridges to my neighbors. I can't do that from my comfortable office with the big maroon chair, the loud wall paper, the hundreds of books, the buzzing air conditioner, the bright lamp, and the pictures of my family. Bridge building is a bit scary, but at the same time it is incredibly exciting. The kingdom of God unfolds before bridge builders taking them to places they never dreamed, and touching the hearts of people they never thought possible. Even when the bridge builder doesn't know it.