After the distribution today, I couldn't help it. I knew we were standing at the southern tippy-tip of Haiti. I walked down to where the water was crashing in, and looked out at 460 miles of pure, turquoise blue, wild ocean. Set adrift from here, and even if you could paddle in a straight line, the next stop would be South America. More realistically, you'd catch the express Gulf current, cruise right on by Jamaica, just miss the shores of Cancun, and wash up somewhere around Corpus Christi, Texas, where my friend Paula lives. Only about 1,750 miles. Maybe it'd be worth the trip. I think she's a pretty good cook.
It blows my mind.
We had a pastor and his wife along for the ride, but if they weren't there, I most certainly would have stripped down to my skivvies and dove in on the spot.
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