A drive which took me past places with names that delighted me: “Escatawpa,” “Citronelle,” “Saraland,” “Dismal Creek.”
My GPS thought my destination was on that side of town, and told me to turn off the road into piney woods. But instead I had to drive through town and out the other side, and once I thought I’d missed the road and took a scenic detour through a neighborhood, and when I finally found it I drove too far and had to turn around. But I arrived.
Going over some of the bridges, the wind was stiff and pelicans hung suspended against it.
And in other places the rain was hard and I sped up the wipers, slowed down the car.
Some people say it’s about the journey, and sometimes I agree. But when I journey, I like to know I’m going somewhere, and, however sweet the journey, I like to arrive at the planned destination.
The destination was planned before the foundation of the world; by the blood of the Crucified One my arrival is assured; by His steadfast love, the journey is sweetened.
Linking up today with Kate Motaung and her Five Minute Friday writers. The button above will take you there.
©2015 by Stacy Nott