I was supposed to go to Denver last weekend with my mom and sisters, but on Thursday came down with the flu, a sinus infection and possibly strep throat. The combination left me sick in a way I don't think I've ever felt sick - where every part of my body ached and I actually wondered if it was ever going to end. 

I didn't make my flight Thursday night, but my mom called to get it rescheduled for Saturday morning. That was my glimmer of hope until Friday night, when I realized I was still way, way too sick to even consider boarding a flight the next day. 

It was at that point that I cried for the millionth time (does anyone else just cry all the time when they have fever?) and also realized the irony of it all - this is one trip that we planned months in advance. Back when we found out Ash was pregnant and decided we wanted to meet baby Max when he was the tiniest of all. This made me cry a little more, obviously. 

But once the haze lifted and I resumed rational thinking instead of fever-and-pain-induced-thinking, I realized the whole weekend was kind of a metaphor for life. 

Because we can only plan and control so much before we get a reminder that we're not really in control at all. That life is a series of twists and turns and, sometimes, from where we're sitting, we can't quite see around the next bend. We don't know what's coming and, while this weekend it made it a little frustrating, it also makes it so exciting. Today is today but tomorrow could be a new job possibility, a prospective date or the best cup of coffee we've ever had in our life. And that's exciting.

So yes, sometimes the stable gets a little boring. But then, just when we think we've got it all under control, we're reminded that this world is much bigger than we are. Sometimes our plans will fall into place and sometimes they will fall apart. That's life. And it's beautiful and full of adventure. And I'll take adventure any day.