It was a Thursday morning a few weeks ago. I picked up the phone to dial Jaro, our travel agent here in San Diego. . . He is our Portuguese speaking "go-between" between us and the Brazilian consulate in Los Angeles .. . the agency that issues visas for Brazil in this area. We were very eager to find out if our visa's had finally come in. To us, "visa" is synonomous with "one-way ticket to Brazil" and "at last, we can GO!"
Thinking this might be the day when we would get to go pick up our visas, Jaro informed me that the consulate had (once again) rejected documentation we submitted. We would need to re-submit these documents which meant it would pro-long our wait AT LEAST a week. It was official. . . every single one of our 10 or more documents (things like original college diploma's, marriage certificate, birth certificates, documentation from Global Partners) had been rejected . . . for reasons we still don't fully understand. Jaro had told me one week prior that all our documentation had finally been approved and authenticated. So naturally, we thought this phone call would be the one in which Jaro would tell us in his delightful Brazilian accent that he had our visas in hand for us to pick up--that we could make final travel arrangements and get our tails to Brazil . . . Instead we were hearing that we would probably have to wait a week longer or more for our visas to arrive.
Thinking this might be the day when we would get to go pick up our visas, Jaro informed me that the consulate had (once again) rejected documentation we submitted. We would need to re-submit these documents which meant it would pro-long our wait AT LEAST a week. It was official. . . every single one of our 10 or more documents (things like original college diploma's, marriage certificate, birth certificates, documentation from Global Partners) had been rejected . . . for reasons we still don't fully understand. Jaro had told me one week prior that all our documentation had finally been approved and authenticated. So naturally, we thought this phone call would be the one in which Jaro would tell us in his delightful Brazilian accent that he had our visas in hand for us to pick up--that we could make final travel arrangements and get our tails to Brazil . . . Instead we were hearing that we would probably have to wait a week longer or more for our visas to arrive.
It felt like being a child, waking up early Christmas morning ready to dig into your stocking and tear open some gift-wrapped treasures . . . only to have mom and dad say "sorry, there's been a mix-up . . . Christmas might be next week . . . or maybe the week after that . . . I dunno--it's just not TODAY"
"Always winter, never Christmas" is definitely what it felt like.
My grip tightened on the phone as I felt a real urge to send it flying to the moon. Stupefied and trying to make sense of this newest development, I really pressed Jaro . . ."But you said our documents were approved?!" "Why are they rejecting official documents that can't get any more official?!" "Is this always the way they do things???" Of course, he's merely the messenger, only telling us what he has been told by the LA consulate . . . so his most definitive answer was "I'm sorry; I'm doing the best I can to get you your visas."
I told Jaro I was sorry and that I understood he was really trying to help us . . . and then I hung up the phone. I filled Dominique in on the details and we sat there in silence for some moments.
That was a tough day for our family. A lot of questioning. . . doubts. . . .tears . . . prayer . . . confusion. It didn't seem right to us that this delay just got extended far beyond what we thought it would ever be. We had our "going away" party ("going to stay" party would have been more appropriate) a couple weeks before. We had already said goodbye to our friends in our home-bible-study group, our Sunday School class, the wonderful ladies in the church nursery, and others . . . Our many suitcases and containers were packed two weeks before this news. Every weekend my mom was thinking THIS would be the weekend she would have to kiss her grandbabies goodbye for quite awhile. Not to mention being out of work for a month and a half.
Have you ever experienced one of those "let-down" moments? You thought things were going to go one way . . . and the exact opposite happened? The reality didn't quite match up to your ideal? Perhaps it was something insignificant, but particularly irritating . . . or maybe something big and important that broke your heart.
Some tough questions cluttered our minds and burdened our hearts that day as our light of anticipation dimmed and discouragement hit a new low: "God . . . why? Are we not really supposed to go to Brazil?"
We even had a few very well-meaning people say things like "well, maybe God just wanted to see if you would really take the leap of faith to go to Brazil . . . and now He's releasing you from going." As precious as those people are to us, and as well-intended as the comments were, it didn't (and still doesn't) comfort or console the hearts of a couple of excited young rookie missionaries who long to be in the place where God has called them to. We couldn't see why God would provide for us in all the ways He has in our journey to Brazil . . . and then seemingly throw a wrench in the works, bringing everything to a maddening halt.
Did He really not want us to go? Could we have heard Him wrong? Could we be mistaken about our call to Brazil? And was this really God's doing . . . or maybe Satan's? . . . or just the inefficient (or cruel) beaurocratic shenanigans of an agency that really doesn't care if we ever get to Brazil?
"Always winter, never Christmas" is definitely what it felt like.
My grip tightened on the phone as I felt a real urge to send it flying to the moon. Stupefied and trying to make sense of this newest development, I really pressed Jaro . . ."But you said our documents were approved?!" "Why are they rejecting official documents that can't get any more official?!" "Is this always the way they do things???" Of course, he's merely the messenger, only telling us what he has been told by the LA consulate . . . so his most definitive answer was "I'm sorry; I'm doing the best I can to get you your visas."
I told Jaro I was sorry and that I understood he was really trying to help us . . . and then I hung up the phone. I filled Dominique in on the details and we sat there in silence for some moments.
That was a tough day for our family. A lot of questioning. . . doubts. . . .tears . . . prayer . . . confusion. It didn't seem right to us that this delay just got extended far beyond what we thought it would ever be. We had our "going away" party ("going to stay" party would have been more appropriate) a couple weeks before. We had already said goodbye to our friends in our home-bible-study group, our Sunday School class, the wonderful ladies in the church nursery, and others . . . Our many suitcases and containers were packed two weeks before this news. Every weekend my mom was thinking THIS would be the weekend she would have to kiss her grandbabies goodbye for quite awhile. Not to mention being out of work for a month and a half.
Have you ever experienced one of those "let-down" moments? You thought things were going to go one way . . . and the exact opposite happened? The reality didn't quite match up to your ideal? Perhaps it was something insignificant, but particularly irritating . . . or maybe something big and important that broke your heart.
Some tough questions cluttered our minds and burdened our hearts that day as our light of anticipation dimmed and discouragement hit a new low: "God . . . why? Are we not really supposed to go to Brazil?"
We even had a few very well-meaning people say things like "well, maybe God just wanted to see if you would really take the leap of faith to go to Brazil . . . and now He's releasing you from going." As precious as those people are to us, and as well-intended as the comments were, it didn't (and still doesn't) comfort or console the hearts of a couple of excited young rookie missionaries who long to be in the place where God has called them to. We couldn't see why God would provide for us in all the ways He has in our journey to Brazil . . . and then seemingly throw a wrench in the works, bringing everything to a maddening halt.
Did He really not want us to go? Could we have heard Him wrong? Could we be mistaken about our call to Brazil? And was this really God's doing . . . or maybe Satan's? . . . or just the inefficient (or cruel) beaurocratic shenanigans of an agency that really doesn't care if we ever get to Brazil?
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