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{{info}}John Piper wrote this poem when he heard of a newlywed waiting for her husband after the Interstate 35 bridge over the Mississippi collapsed on August 1, 2007.&nbsp;

==== Waiting For My Husband After the Bridge Collapsed ====

O God, please let him be unconscious,<br>With his wallet lost, unknown<br>In some draped cubicle, with nurses<br>Near, and scrolling through his phone.

You never stayed so late. O Jesus,<br>I would give this house, and weep<br>With joy to know he stayed at<br>Work, until he fell asleep.

It’s midnight. I’m afraid to call, or<br>Even look too closely at the cars<br>Above the water, with the broken<br>Windows, glimpsed between the twisted bars.

I sleep. And you are there, the current<br>Of the Mississippi in your hair,<br>Caressed, so still, so still, so breathless, <br>Love, as when last night I touched you there.

I wake to hear the doorbell ringing.<br>It is two A. M. And through the hues<br>Of porch-light, Yes! No matter<br>What. My pastor always brings good news.