Man, how do I begin? I know sometimes people post stuff on their blogs with crazy titles to draw readers in, but once you get down to it you see they were exaggerating or making a play on words or something. Not the case here. The day that I was supposed to leave the US and start my amazing WR journey with the Lord was honestly one of the worst days of my life.
It all started over a month ago when I submitted an application for an Indian Visa to a processing center in New York City. I was told that I would get it back in before the end of the month, but that time came and went. I prayed and made lots of phone calls but got nowhere. I arrived at Launch in Atlanta, not only without a visa for India, but more importantly, without my passport at all. There were others on my squad in the same pickle who made some calls and found a way that we could get emergency replacement passports. I should have jumped at the opportunity, but I felt frustrated and reluctant. I didn’t want to spend $195 on a new passport when I knew I had a perfectly good one that was being held hostage in New York. I knew I couldn’t get it in my own strength so I just kept asking the Lord “Please bring my passport back to me.” Then I found out that I had a 12 hour layover in NYC on July 3. I could not believe this was just some kind of coincidence. No way, I just knew it was from God. My heavenly Daddy was taking care of me and bringing me right to my passport! I made a call to arrange the pickup and convinced my leaders that it would all work out.
Little did I know, that was my plan, not God’s. How could I know that I would end up waiting in line for over 8 hours at the visa processing center? (4 hours in line on the side of the street in NYC, 2 hours in a cramped stuffy waiting area, and another 2 hours in the actual office waiting for my name to be called… spoiler alert: it never was.) It was unreal. The chaos, disorganization, frustration. I prayed so hard. I believed with all my heart that God would show up. I tried to encourage those that were with me and even prayed with another person who was waiting in line. I would not give up until I had that passport in my hand. In the end, after fighting all day, hoping against hope, wearing my heart thin in crying out to God… I did give up. I stayed as long as I possible could and finally had to throw in the towel and rush back to the airport so that my friends wouldn’t miss the flight too.
Thank God, Colleen and Megan ended up getting back to JFK just in time. And then there I was alone. All day long it felt like everything that could’ve gone wrong did. One wall after another after another, each time I face planted harder trying to push through. But once I gave up on the flight to Bulgaria, it changed from everything going against me to everything going my way. I quickly found a hotel room even though an airport employee told me everywhere was booked up and I never would. I had access to internet and phone from my hotel where I was able to contact my family make plans to get home the next day. I was afraid that I was going to miss my bus because of my taxi being late and traffic, but I made it just in time. Everything went smoothly, bringing me safe and sound back home.
At home the struggle continued though, just in a different form. I thought I was proving my trust in the Lord in NYC but got nothing to show for it. A friend of mine pointed out that this time in the aftermath is really the test of faith. I did pretty good believing and trusting that God was going to come through in the midst of it, but now that it’s over and I can see that He didn’t show up in the way I was asking Him to… there’s a bigger issue. “How much do you trust Me?” So God didn’t get me my passport. In fact, it looks like He sent me home. And I have no idea why. In the quiet after the storm I have to ask myself “Do I still believe that He’s listening? Do I still believe He’s good? Do I still believe He’s in control? Do I still believe He cares about me?” These are hard questions. From my point of view, the evidence implies otherwise. But I know the answer to all the questions is yes. I knew it before July 3 and the events of that day don’t change a thing. I don’t trust anyone in this world enough that even if it looked like they had totally left me hanging I wouldn’t question their love or ask for explanation. God is calling me to THAT kind of trust. Trust without any borders. None. Complete faith. “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Hebrews 11:1
Much worse has happened to people and much worse may happen to me, not only in my life but maybe in the next 11 months! The important lesson here is to not base my understanding of God on my experiences. Because I am limited in what I can see and understand about what’s really going on. I know He’s good and there is a good reason for me being in the spot I’m in. Even when the healing doesn’t come, even when I have to leave NYC passport-less, His ways are not our ways. I believe that He could have done what I asked of Him, but He didn’t. And I trust Him. Jesus proved His love to me when He died on the cross. I don’t need a passport to confirm that.
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