Christmas Bridges-a Repost

We were neighbors making no attempt to be friends. Our mutual lack of concern for the other and a small patch of woods separated us. Plus, there is a branch and an old fence in those woods which delineated our property line. Often, I heard him working on his place. He surely heard me on mine. We waved if we passed each other on the road, but we didn't even know each other's names.
One day we both happened to be close to our property line, and we carried on a short conversation through the woods, each other barely visible to the other through the brush. On another occasion, we found it easier to talk after I trimmed away a few bushes. As the "neighborship" grew, more and more bushes came down, and the view of my neighbor became clearer. Finally, I pushed down the old fence and cleared a path. Now, all we had to do was jump the branch to come talk to one another. Then, one day, my neighbor built a bridge over the branch. Now, there is a trail worn smooth by our friendship.
It happened a little at a time: clearing the brush, pushing down the fence, building the bridge. A line from a song written by Gloria Gaither says, "Fear builds walls instead of bridges." Life, it seems, is a lot about cutting away the underbrush of our fears, pushing down the fences of prior notions and visionless expectations, and building a bridge to a better life; a better me.

Christmas, "Joy to the World--," a Son is sent- the brush has been cleared, the fence torn down, and the Bridge has been built between God and man. May this year the path between us, be worn smooth by the tracks of our relationship.