The view from our balcony. We're back, safe and in one piece. Vince, too, is perfect. Thanks for all the prayers and messages of support during my insanity in the days leading up to the trip. As I had anticipated, about a half hour after dropping Vincent off (running away to sob in my car so he didn't see me), I was perfectly fine. He was, too, considering every time I called while we were away he was giggling or napping, blissfully unaware that Mommy and Daddy were a thousand miles away. Anyway, Jamaica was beautiful. Even though it rained every day we were there, the rain was so nice that it didn't effect our enjoyment of everything. The sun mostly shone even while the rain was falling. Ha ha. The first night there, John and I had gotten our times confused (apparently there's an hour time difference we hadn't realized). So we were waiting around for dinner a full hour earlier than we should've been. We enjoyed just hanging out anyway, so it wasn't like it was a big deal, but when dinner finally did roll around, we were told that we had to adhere to a specific dress code that we didn't match up to (John was in shorts, and shorts are a no-no for this place). So we grumbled to ourselves as we went back to our rooms to change. I kept repeating to myself, "Okay, I'm sure You've got a reason for things turning out this way, but wow... this is annoying!" I hate being late for things, and considering this was our first "dinner" at the resort with the whole group, it REALLY irritated me that we were so ill-prepared. Anyway, of course it turned out that God had planned it that way on purpose. Because we were late, we were seated away from the "group" and were able to have a nice, intimate dinner with another couple who found themselves a little "late to the party" as well. They were so nice, and John and I had a great time getting to know them. We had such a great time at our table, while the larger table was a jumbled mess of folks talking over each other in an attempt to be heard. I smiled to myself almost immediately at the situation because I realized, as always, I should quit my constant grumbling and just thank God for whatever perceived road bumps are tossed my way in an attempt to steer me towards something better. The rest of the trip I found myself in similar circumstances. I quit my grumblings and just offered all the frustrations up in full faith that they were meant for a reason greater than my understanding. Not once was I disappointed. Even on the way home, we got in super late. After making our way through the airport, I realized that my two rosaries (the ones I use all the time - one for the actual rosary and one for the Divine Mercy chaplet) were missing. I knew immediately that I'd dropped them in my seat on the airplane. Instead of being upset or freaking out, I just noted that God wanted someone else to find them - and hopefully use them - in the same way I did. Who knows? Maybe me losing those rosaries will help someone else find their faith again. One can hope, right? :)
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June 2017
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