I fulfilled a high school dream of mine this weekend - I finally made it to Boston. A city I loved in my heart before I even laid eyes on it.

And it was everything I knew it would be - historic, charming, beautiful - and more than I knew a city could be - clean, relaxed, and severely bitchy...of which I'll never understand why. Bostonian's are the rudest people I've met thus far (they're lucky they have amazing accents to make it less abrasive) and yet they live in such a nice and chill place. They seriously have nothing to complain about.

But what if told you this trip consisted of a speeding ticket on the way to DC, a 2.5-hour long bus wait to NYC, missing the last bus out of Boston after fireworks, getting food poisoning and developing a virus that made me go to Massachusetts General Hospital (not a part of the trip itinerary) where I vomited a total of 10 times in three hours (three times more than I ever had in my whole life), and a flight that felt as if it would never end? I wouldn't believe me either...

I spent more money than a cheap Slovenian ought to on a weekend trip (including an over-priced airport blanket), slept on floors and underneath carts in airports that I'm not proud to admit I did, and threw up in two very public places.

But sometimes our plans don't work out because God is looking out for us.

When we missed our first bus we had to wait 2.5 hours in a stand by line for the next available trip to New York. We were tired, hot, hangry, and sick of DC. But our Uber driver in New York surprisingly turned out to be a Christian, and also a German immigrant. He encouraged us in such a deep and profound way to go out and change the culture as Christians. This man was a foreigner concerned for our country, and he was unafraid to share the Truth with whoever got in his car. We both left his Lincoln and looked at each other, knowing that was the reason we missed our bus.

Sometimes God brings inconvenience to our life to bring rich encounters for our soul. And when you can notice that immediately, you are walking with Him.

Boston was incredible. I felt at home there. I saw families walking the streets taking their kids to the Red Sox game, old ladies and old men with thick accents sitting outside drinking coffee yapping about this, that, and other, and a ton of college kids. Everything and everyone was operating very un-city like. I liked it.

The fireworks show on the harbor is the nation's oldest and most spectacular. Yet Bostonian's watch them standing up in the streets which I find most uncomfortable. For a city that had hardly any weekend traffic prior to the show - even with a couple home Red Sox games - it felt like New York City rush hour. We tried Uber, Lyft, the subway, we even ran with our suitcases down the streets of Boston. We tried everything. We missed the last bus out of Boston. The next one would leave 24 hours later and my friend Marisa would miss her flight for work the next day.

So we stayed at a hotel..and we even had a couple obstacles getting our room for the night. But thank God we missed the bus because the next morning I got sick.

I threw up 10 times in a total of three hours; more times in a couple hours than in my twenty-two years. It came every twenty minutes like a contraction, perfectly timed. We thought it was food poisoning. (Side Note: Never eat at Grafton St. Pub in Harvard Square). So we called an Uber for a ride to the hospital hoping they could give me something to make it stop so we could travel home.

In the midst of our madness we wonder why God allows inconvenience and doesn't grant our desperate prayers when we think our world is ending...we wonder why God allows bad things to happen to us like missing a bus. It's because He's protecting us from something worse...like throwing up 10 times on a 10 hour bus ride.

My vomiting happened in very public places - the hotel lobby, in front of people in the hospital waiting room, and my personal favorite - right outside the hospital where I almost had to fight the security guard off simultaneously.

Our Uber driver had a very nice car and she was a fast driver rushing us to the hospital so I wanted to hold back as long as possible for her sake.

I had a bag with me just in case and the minute she pulled into the emergency drop off lane, it came. I opened the door and fell to the ground. The security guard came over to grab one of our bags from me and get me a wheelchair and when he came back for my purse I thought it was a stranger taking advantage of my situation. While puking I thought I was going to have to fight off a thief. I yelled "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! GET OUT OF HERE!!"

To my surprise, it was the security guard taken aback by my quick reflex while very indisposed.

I had to continuously hold my bags of vomit while checking in to the hospital waiting room while they put the wrong name tag on me. Suffice to say I missed my Cleveland Clinic.

Eight hours and two needles later we were released under the impression I had a virus. The vomiting subsided, but I felt sick and weak.

Luckily I had a strong and capable chick with me to lead when I couldn't function.

This girl carried my trash can of vomit out into the hall way to get cleaned, helped me to the bathroom after the lobby incident, bought me water, crackers, a banana, ginger ale...she was a mixture of a mom, but mostly just serving as a servant of Christ and a really good friend.

I learned from being served that our selfish nature - the part that often doesn't want to deal with the grossness of others - is in complete contrast to what we are called to do. To my defense, I could not help my predicament, nevertheless I couldn't expect anyone to jump for joy having to deal with this situation.

But love for others requires the dying of ourselves and our personal interest to serve someone the way we wish to be served.

At my least lovable moments where I looked ratchet, was frustrated by our constant travel issues (even more stressful when sick), tired, weak, and irritable - she was there for me.

She was the rock I could lean and depend on.

She was her best when I was at my worst.

I think that's what friends - and spouses - and all of us are there for; to lean on and be leaned on.

Sometimes traveling grows your perspective, adds more stamps in your passport, but sometimes if you're lucky traveling strengthens you and the people you venture with.