There's No Place Like Home

Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz had it right ... there's no place like home.  This small troop of four finally made it across South Dakota and through southern Minnesota to a small hamlet called St. James, MN, where daughter Erin is pastor of a great Presbyterian Church there.  After settling in, we got to taste some of her glueten-free cooking, and then yearned for Saturday morning and the trip to the German bakery for baked items and scrumptious goodies.  Enjoyed showing off St. James and its environs -- small-town life has some real draw to it.

Sunday in church was special as we celebrated All Saints Day.  Erin offered communion in a special way; afterwards, a quick stop at Pizza Hut (the ususal hang-out for some of the after-church crowd), and then we were off for Des Moines, Iowa, for a very important stop.  It was a special reunion of sorts, with a mother and her son.  To top that off, it was even more joyful as all of her grandchildren through this son stopped by making this stop ever so special.

I drove the red-eye from Des Moines, Iowa, to Galesburg, Illinois, for an overnight stop.  The town, steeped in history with the likes of writer and poet Carl Sandburg, was a stop I wish we could have spent more time at.  As one gets close to the end of any journey, it seems you're pressed to get to the destinations at hand.  Dayton, Ohio, was the final two-day stop to visit family members, enjoy the fellowship offered, and share our sights and scenes of our terrific journey.

And, then it was homeward bound!  And wouldn't you know it, when it was my turn to drive after a brief lunch in Berea, Kentucky, it started to rain!  Of course!!  I should not complain, because there was only one other time on this 19-day journey where we had any showers, and those were back in New Mexico.  They were hard, but brief.  Perhaps the showers were there to shed all the dust off of the car.  Perhaps they were there to cleanse all of the trail behind us.  Perhaps they were there to clean the way home.  I was moved a bit in that the rain ended just as we arrived in Greeneville, and I could see familiar things.  Not much has changed.  However, I know I have.

I have changed a lot inside.  I have changed the way I see things now even more.  I have changed how I want to accept life and how what I do in the small corner in which I live in can make a difference.  It even has put a whole new slant on cookie baking which I knew waited for me upon the arrival home.  To see the mounatins now, the wispy clouds at sunset, the green grass clinging to life as the temperatures begin to plummet, the bare trees in the back yard now with leaves on the ground ... all of this is a reminder for me that there is no place like home.

Thank you, God, for a wonderful witness on this bucket trip out west.  Thank you for inspiring me to be more, do more in my own way that enriches Your name, as well as enriching my life and my soul.

I suspect there will be more Musing on the Road entries in the not-too-distant future.  There are plans for a trip back to Dayton, Ohio, a trip to Panama City, Florida, and to Baltimore, Maryland, just to name a few.  For now, it is good to crawl into my own bed with my own pillow, and listen to the stillness of East Tennessee and experience the place we call ... home.