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Burnt Fingers & Bridges We Cross

A couple months ago, as I was removing a tray of sweet potato fries from the oven, I burnt my fingers. I don’t know how long it lasted, but for some time, my thumb and index finger were leathery to the touch and I was acutely aware, as I typed or wrote, that it was still healing.

Then, one day, I was working on my computer and I realized my finger wasn’t burnt anymore. I couldn’t place when it stopped being burnt. One day, it just wasn’t. 

Thinking about the burnt finger brought up something else. In the musical Wicked, there is an excellent song called Thank Goodness that has, in my opinion, one of the heaviest hitting lines in a show overflowing with beautiful lyrics. 

The line? “There are bridges you cross you didn’t know you crossed until you’ve crossed.”

I love this for a few reasons. First, anyone who can confidently belt the same word three times in one sentence and make it profound is my hero. And more importantly, I love it because it’s true. Context of the show aside, I’ve often found myself repeating the “bridges” quote in moments of the burnt finger. 

I can’t tell you when it stopped hurting. One day, it was just better. 

Times 10. Amplify this to your worst sports injury or heartache or rejection or disappointment. I can’t tell you when all of those will stop hurting. One day, they will just be better. A bridge you didn’t know you’d crossed until you’d… crossed. 

Hang in there. All burns heal.


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