Bridge Over the Susquehanna

Daily commutes don’t need to be boring. For the past 14 years (except for a hiatus in 2020), my drive to work has been about 30 minutes. I learned early on to listen to something and have since consumed over 2 months of audiobooks (thanks Audible!). But of course I’m driving, so I have to be aware of my surroundings too.

One feature that captivates me nearly every day is a wide, slow moving river that once represented the border of the colonial frontier. The Susquehanna was the first major obstacle to westward expansion, and it was the route I travel on now that generally follows the same highway on which generations of early pioneers trudged. US 30 crosses the river on the Wright’s Ferry bridge, and just downriver this is the older Veterans Memorial Bridge (currently closed for a few years of retrofitting). On my side of the river (York County) sits Wrightsville borough, and on the Lancaster County side is Columbia, which was once a candidate to be capital until Washington D. C. won out.

The Susquehanna is non-navigable and was even in colonial times; in other words, you can’t row a boat from Central Pennsylvania to the Chesapeake Bay. Though it’s wide and plenty of water flows downstream, it’s rocky, shallow and marked with rapids.

But beyond its historical significance, the Susquehanna offers reminders of creation’s beauty and God’s handiwork. The landscape around the bridge changes from season to season and day to day. This autumn has been fairly dry, so rocky little islands have seemingly appeared from one side to the other. Other times after heavy rainfalls, the current is swift and uninterrupted. And you should see it in winter! Due to the local climate and constant flow, the Susquehanna rarely freezes over here, but when it does the icescapes can be spectacular.

Some of my favorite scenes are in February and March. When I drive onto the bridge, the sun is perfectly centered downstream over the river. Some mornings, fog and mist blanket the rising sun. But on clear days, I’m forced to pull down my visor, even with sunglasses.

There are windy days where I have to hold the steering wheel a little tighter and stormy days where lightning flashes across the water. During the colder months on my commute home, the quaint street lamps of Wrightsville twinkle across the water and welcome me back to York County.

Whatever the time of year, though, the scenery is a little different than the day before: a kayaker paddling against the current, a fisherman casting his line from a rocky outcropping, a train chugging along the eastern bank, a traffic jam bottling me up in Lancaster County longer than I wanted.

As many others have said, the one constant of a river is that it’s always changing—a reflection of life itself. Like the river, my Christian walk is sometimes calm and other times turbulent, but it’s always moving forward. God’s presence, like the steady current, remains constant, even when circumstances shift. Crossing this bridge continually reminds me that God’s truths are always visible, even in the changing seasons of life.

I hope I can continue to see His promises in the ordinary moments. And perhaps, the next time you cross your own bridge—literal or metaphorical—you’ll find reminders of God’s faithfulness too.

• Susquehanna
• River