My father built a brick walkway from the back door of his house in Tennessee to the driveway. He was proud of that walkway and so was I. I’ve been a brick mason for over fifty years and I told him I couldn’t do a better job. That walkway inspired this story.

He took bricks that had been thrown at him his whole life, stained red with the Blood, because he followed his Heavenly Father’s Son, and built this pathway. He got down on his knees with trowel in hand and laid each one of them straight and true. The path is narrow and the distractions many.

I walk with him on this path listening to the words he knows. Those sinful little ants try to undermine it, the demon weeds root in between the bricks threatening to hide the Way.

The bricks are uneven now, but still as red. Time makes him stumble, so I steady him. One day, too soon, we will walk the narrow way and he will turn and walk into the light, his journey at an end. I cling to him as hard as I can, not wanting to let go, but a gentle hand on my shoulder comforts me, and I know.

I turn and walk on alone, staining the way with my tears until I too get down on my knees with trowel in hand and build my own brick path, straight and true. Too narrow for most, I build it for you. Come and walk with me to my Father’s house.

Someday I too will turn and go into the light and walk with my father on a different path, a path of gold with no beginning or end, bathed in the light of the Great I AM!