Brick and Mortar

These three words have been my "Safety Net Phrase" for a couple of weeks now:

Brick.  And.  Mortar.

That's it.  That's all my house is made of.  Well, throw some wood, plaster, paint and a little blood, sweat and tears in there for good measure. 

I have to tell myself this while I'm traveling the most uncertain road I've ever been on.  I know not what lies around the bend or even the next step, but I do know Someone has been holding my hand
as I journey along.  Someone stronger.  Someone wiser.   Someone full of love and caring.    As this does comfort me, I still ponder the what ifs.  I can't seem to help myself, but I'm learning that that is OK, as long as I don't tarry there in the Land of Uncertainty. 

How can I claim those three words as a safety net?   I used to think that I would fall apart if this house weren't mine any longer.  A great amount of my life's memories are held within these walls, or, are they?    I am understanding more and more each day that "these walls" only encompass us physically.  ALL my memories are housed within my heart and soul.  Those are things that cannot be removed from me, short of death.  That is how I can claim those three little words.  Not to hold onto, but to let go of. 

It is the stuff between the brick and mortar that will soften my fall.  The stuff we cannot see or smell or touch.  The stuff  Hope invokes ~ such as Faith and Trust and Prayer.  Lots of faith, lots of trust and lots and lots of prayer.

So, when I feel as thou doom and gloom awaits on the horizon, or  uncertainty is at the door, I throw on a sweater of Hope and take the hand of my Redeemer, trust and pray, and remember:

It's just. . . . . .

Brick.  And.  Mortar.