Desperate

We were 20 miles outside of Denver. We were pretty much home. The excitement rumbled through our veins as we started to recognize all the things we love about Colorado. And then it happened. One more bump in the road, one more challenge, one more thing to laugh at before we could breathe again. Flat tire. So we took a random exit and we ended up at the top of this hill, changing our flat in the middle of the road. I turned around and I saw this perfect house. This run-down grey with a bright red door. It was the picture of desperation. It was us. We made it, an hour and a half later, we were home. There, waiting, were all the people we so desperately missed and loved running to us with the biggest, brightest smiles of hope.