Country Roads, Take Me Home

Is there a sound or smell that instantly transports you home?

For me it is the sound of tires on a gravel road. I am reminded of the many times I have driven, ridden and walked the lane at Clear Creek Farm. You see, it has always been a place of unconditional love and acceptance. The inhabitants may vary but we are all family, whether it has been a day or a decade since we have seen each other.

As we wander the world in pursuit of God’s plan for our lives there will always be times when we feel the pull to go home. We must be careful that our wandering doesn’t lead us down the path of worldly indulgence.

With all my heart I have sought You; Do not let me wander from Your commandments. – Psalm 119:10 NASB

Where has your wandering led you lately?


  1. So many places have been home since we moved a lot, lived in two different countries as missionaries. Smells of beans and cornbread reminds me of being a child. Fried chicken smell reminds me of the many times I fried chicken for my family and guest. Sugar cookies are my favorite smell for cookies reminds me of home with my children at Christmas time. Now I am hungry…off to find something to eat.

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  2. The smell of Caress soap takes me right back to my Grandma’s house! I always smile when I catch a whiff of it. Thank you for reminding us to be careful where our longings take us. Your #fmf neighbor, Cindy

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  3. Thanks for asking where I’ve been wandering, Barb. A couple of weeks ago I had a little health scar. It was unexplained abdominal pain that turned out to be something relatively minor. But it took a few days to figure that out. In the meantime, I was a basket case! Could barely pray or do my devotional reading. Faith can indeed be fragile.

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  4. Never really had a place
    that felt an awful lot like home,
    and I thought my saving grace
    was that I would rather roam,
    putting out no roots or ties,
    ready to decamp at will
    unhindered by the long goodbyes
    of which so many have their fill.
    But now I’m hoist on my petard,
    and bound here for my end of story,
    ’bout which I write just like the Bard
    (or try to!) using sonnetry,
    and oddly, with each rhyming sentence
    comes a little more acceptance.

    Liked by 1 person

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