So we headed off from 60 degree Houston on Christmas Eve in hopes of arriving at his parent’s house by dinner time that evening and with plenty of time left in the evening for telling the christmas story and making cookies. We had no idea then that we would talk about the christmas story at Jack-in-the-Box while sharing fries instead of cookies.
A winter storm had descended upon the DFW area and our trip quickly turned into a slow steady crawl on texas ice skating rinks, known to some as roads. The only place we could find open to eat was that Jack-in-the-box hours after we should already arrived at his parents and it made a great lesson to teach the girls about how Mary and Joseph searched for a place to stay the night before Jesus was born. Eight hours later and after three hours of driving no more than 25 mph, we finally pulled into his parent’s driveway and decided that we would not drive again on the ice, even if it meant we were stuck there long than expected. I was frazzled and seriously almost threw up a few times while driving. If I was by myself it wouldn’t have been so bad but my heart was in the back of the van and their lives mean everything to me. I swore up and down at that point that I would never travel for christmas again….. until….
I woke up to this….
