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The next couple of days are hard to describe. But, I'll try.

We left Port around 5:30pm on Monday evening and got into Miami, then went to our hotel and crashed. Well, first we marveled at the fact that we were going to sleep in a room where we didn't have to worry about mosquitoes. And we all took a hot shower. And we ordered some pizza and lasagna. It wasn't very good, but it was food.

We got up really early the next morning and headed to the airport to fly to Chicago. Just before we were about to board a lady came on the PA system to announce, "Boarding will be slightly delayed as the plane is currently without power. Once power is restored, boarding will begin. Thank you." Awesome. You could hear that uncomfortable laugh make its way through the crowd. Nonetheless, power was restored and we all filed on. The flight was uneventful for the most part. Except that my friend Mark was watching the in-flight movie, "Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs," and laughing super loud. The lady in front of him kept looking back, clearly irritated. After we landed and were taxiing to the gate, I told Mark how funny it was to watch him laugh so hard at that movie. "SHE didn't think it was funny," he said as he pointed at said lady. Genius.

We all said our good-byes at O'Hare and the rest of the team left, while I stayed behind waiting for Julie to come get me. She found a team of people to watch the kids until Wednesday night, so we planned on having an incredible couple days in Chicago, just the two of us.

Now, I'm not making this next part up. While I was sitting there waiting for Julie, a lady came on the PA system and said, "Last call to board Flight 356, the doors are closing. George Bush, please report to flight 356 to Houston, the doors are closing." It couldn't have been...right? I mean, it seems natural, but...it couldn't have been. I'm kind of expecting to see my reaction on some sort of hidden camera show.

Julie finally arrived and it was amazing. She was beautiful. She got a haircut and was all dressed up...and her smile. Seriously, her smile made my heart sing. It felt so good to hold her, just to be near her. To smell her and to kiss her...so good.

Then we made our way to her sister Paula's house. On the way I decided to tell Julie about the ring situation. I couldn't keep it inside any longer. Plus, I was banking on her extreme happiness to lessen the blow. "Oh, it's ok! I'm just glad YOU'RE here!" I imagined she'd say. Instead, she cried. "That's not how I wanted it to go," I muttered. "How did you THINK I'd react?" she asked. Then I told her my theory. Not great. After a little while and some more discussion, we were able to move past it and agreed to enjoy our time together.

We ended up eating some amazing deep-dish pizza with Paula.
Then she took us to our hotel. She and her boyfriend hooked us up with a room on the 26th floor of the Sheraton overlooking Navy Pier. Amazing. Eventually we decided to venture out into the cold and get something to eat. That's when things got difficult.

As Julie was finishing up her shower and getting ready, I turned on the TV and was flipping through the HD channels when I saw a breaking news alert. It said there was a 7.0 magnitude earthquake in Haiti. Haiti? The Haiti I just left? It couldn't be. For a couple minutes I just sat there in unbelief. Literally. I thought maybe it was a movie. Or a history channel special. When it started to register, I called Julie out. I had no idea what to do.

I called Steve, my pastor, to make sure our friend Chris who stayed there was ok. He said he hadn't heard from Chris yet, but would keep me updated. I cried and we prayed, but there wasn't a whole lot else we could do. So, I made us go to dinner. We were in Chicago together, alone, and we needed to enjoy each other. We did our best to enjoy ourselves at dinner (P.J. Clarke's), although I was on the phone with Steve a couple times.

When we got back to the hotel, we had a drink at the bar and just talked for a while. It was so weird. Trying to enjoy each other, feeling helpless and sad about Haiti, feeling guilty about being glad I was home, feeling guilty about wanting to be there...it was just too much. I called my dad and cried a lot. I didn't expect to, but he said all the right things. As we said good-bye, he said, "I love you, Ryan." I said I loved him, too, hung up the phone and burst into tears. Right there in the hotel corridor. It felt so good, though.

The next day we did our best to figure out how to feel. I went to Starbucks early to write and just spend some time by myself. And later we decided to use the pool, except I forgot to bring my suit. I was ready to let Julie go by herself and then thought, "Forget it. I'm going, too." I ended up swimming in my boxer-briefs. And it was awesome. We had an amazing time together. Best discussion time we've had since...since I can remember.


















Then we had lunch at a little diner on the way back to Paula's, which was amazing. I went in longing for French toast, but also wanting a sandwich. What would I pick? BOTH. I had a Monte Cristo, which is a turkey sandwich made with French toast. Unbelievable.

We made it back to Paula's house, said our good-byes, and headed for home. Julie drove. I was exhausted. Mentally, spiritually, emotionally, physically...exhausted. On the way, Steve called and asked if we'd be back by 4:30pm because the news was coming to do a piece on our group. Unfortunately, we didn't make it. We got there right as they were wrapping up. To see the team again, for the first time since news of the quake...it was emotional. I also saw pictures of the destruction to our orphanage for the first time. Tears flowed.

Finally, at around 6pm, we got back on the road to get home home. My first time walking through my front door in two weeks. I opened it and stepped inside as my Anna zoomed around the corner and yelled, "DADDY!" and jumped into my arms.

It was good to be home. Understatement of the year.