A Bridge Between Worlds

I’m trekking through the skywalk in downtown Des Moines. The network of glass bridges runs from building to building. It’s a bizarre experience for me, walking over full city blocks without touching the ground.

There are shops and businesses on the skywalk level of each building. I pass smoothie bars. Boutiques. An art studio. Many of the people here wear suits and carry briefcases. The air smells antiseptic, like a hospital.

The whole scene is too ritzy for me. I feel overstimulated, so I decide to take an elevator down to the street level.

I walk through automatic doors, expecting to be refreshed by cool spring air.

Instead, I breathe in car exhaust.

I look around. Everything is different here. The streets are lined with grey March slush. The businesses are fast food restaurants and drug stores.

For the most part, the people are different too. They wear Levis instead of Armani. A disheveled man holds up a cardboard sign that says “Hungry Veteran.” A young woman sits cross-legged against a building as she smokes a cigarette.

I can’t believe that the skywalk is directly above me. This is a different world. I wonder if the people above are even aware of it.

But I know that Christ is. While on earth, Jesus taught fishermen and scholars. He healed Jews and Gentiles. He died for shepherds and kings. Christ’s love was the bridge between worlds.

I want to be like Christ. I want to show love to all people, even those who lead different lives than mine. I want to see them as my Savior does.

So, as I walk down the sidewalk, I meet the eyes of each person I pass. I want them to know I see them. Later, I’ll do the same on the skywalk. Because Christ’s love extends to all.