God is always at work around us. That is true. But once in awhile, we know that truth in a more real way than usual. I wish that I could know it and remember it all the time, for it would surely change the way I live. But for days like May 24 and 25, 2011, I am eternally grateful, as they push me to trust Him more the next time, and seeing His great power and His intervention in details of life here in this broken place is. simply. cramazing.
Remember, crazy + amazing = cramazing. That was this day....and the next.
Because of our lack of success the day before, Tuna had agreed to take us to the passport office on this day. He met us first thing that morning, along with our fabulous driver who was with us for the last three days in Orissa, driving us here, there, and everywhere! Unfortunately, he wasn't the same driver as Saturday, so still no sign of the FLIP. Supposedly, our Saturday driver had found it and was keeping it for us, but each day of not seeing it made it seem more and more unlikely that we would ever get it back.
Tuna (Have I mentioned what an incredible blessing he was to us?!) had done the behind-the-scenes arranging for us, and when he arrived, he informed us that Mr. D, the orphanage rep to the passport office, would be meeting us there. Again, we gathered in the hotel lobby and prayed, knowing that we absolutely needed God to move and desired for Him to get the glory.
The whole drive to the passport office was this great mix of anxiety and faith and excitement. I spent the drive looking our the window and talking to the Lord, asking Him to have His way, to make a way, and to prepare my heart for what was to come. I remember arriving at the passport office--our driver dropped us off directly across the street--getting out of the van, and looking up at the shiny blue building that had given us so much grief over the last month, thinking, "Wow. This is it. This is the place where the kings live. Someone in this building holds the key to Tom being able to leave the country or having to stay." And God knew. After all, "The king's heart is like channels of water in the hand of the Lord; He turns it wherever He wishes (Prov. 21:1)." And we were about to watch Him work.
From the second I stepped out into the street, all my sensor alerts were up, watching, smelling, sensing the eyes and the curious glances coming our way, and particularly my way. There were a few other women there, but not very many, and Scott and I were definitely the only people there without brown skin. It's not a bad thing to be different, but when you stand out that much, you definitely feel it.
We strode confidently behind our friend, Tuna, so thankful for his leading and his presence with us. Of course, we were even more thankful for the leading and presence of Someone Else. We had to go through the security gate, of course, and once we were inside, we saw the hoard of people. Just a huge mass of people crowding to get into the building. I followed Tuna, and Scott followed me, so that I wouldn't get lost in the crowd. The guys were definitely watching out for me, and I was grateful. Scott is 6 feet, 4 inches, and he snapped this picture with his phone as we moved through the crowd.
And move we did! Tuna just walked right on through, and we followed the little path that he was making for us. And when he finally got to the front, he was able to motion to Mr. D, who was already inside the building, waiting for us. See, in order to get in the building, you have to have a number. And once you get a number, you wait. And wait. And wait. Until they call your number.
But we walked right through. Cramazing.
Once inside, Mr. D informed us that we needed to head upstairs, so we followed. At the top of the stairs, we turned left and entered the winding hallway lined with doors. Many doors, all marked with a number so as to distinguish this room from that. We were told that we were heading to room #6.
Inside room #6 was a desk that jutted out, perpendicular to the wall. On one side was seated a man who seemed to be rather important and who was shuffling papers from here to there. On the other side, another man was seated who appeared, perhaps, to be Important Man's clerk or aide. Standing next to the desk were 10 or 15 other men, all with papers in their hands and all clamoring to be addressed by Important Man.
Someone motioned to me to sit down in the one chair that was sitting next to the wall. Of course, he spoke to me in Oriya--no English here!--so I had no idea what he was saying. He looked angry, like, "What are you, a foreigner and a woman, doing here?!" But since I couldn't understand a word he said, I chose instead to pretend that he was saying, "Please, sit. You are a woman, so I give you preference." Denial was my friend just then.
I sat and watched the scene for 10 minutes or so, having no idea what in the world was happening. Mr. D was just one of many people trying to be heard by Important Man, and he lacked the assertiveness that I thought he probably needed. But what did I know? I didn't know the language or the culture.
But I knew the God who made both.
So I prayed.
I prayed for Mr. D. I prayed for Tuna. I prayed for me and Scott, who was standing by the door watching the same scene. Every now and then, we would glance at each other and try to communicate using non-verbals. I was so thankful that we were there together. At least I had a partner in crime who also had no idea what was going on.
I also prayed for wisdom and for insight. Finally, Mr. D was able to have an audience with Important Man, who told him that......our passports had not been issued and would not be issued now and to come back later.
What?
So I quick pulled out my screen shot (PRAISE GOD that He had prompted me to print that out!) that stated that Tom's "Passport has been granted and is expected to be dispatched by 20-05-2011. Subject to all documents being in order." I motioned to Scott who nudged Tuna, and Tuna delivered it to Mr. D explaining its seeming importance. Mr. D went back into the fray again, and this time, when he reached Important Man, Important Man couldn't brush him off. He seemed quite irritated by my little paper; even without knowing the language, I could figure that one out. Tuna later told us that Important Man kept saying, "Where did you/she/they get this??!" over and over.
I got it from your very own website, silly Important Man!
Moments later, Tuna motioned that I should get out of the chair and follow, so our entourage moved quickly down the hall, now being told that we were to go to room #2. At this point, I took some covert pictures on my own phone, which were then deleted by my eldest later in the trip. I wish I had those pictures to display the hecticness of that place. What was amazing was how people seemed to literally be shuffled from one room to the next. While Scott and I were standing in the hallway waiting, we watched one man go from room 2 to room 4 to room 6 to room 7 and back again to room 2. That happened multiple times. Such commotion. Such hubbub. It was impossible to tell if the movement and activity was actually resulting in anything or if perhaps it was all just an exercise in futility. Something must get done at some point, but it was hard to tell when.
So we waited. And prayed. Oh my. I remember my heart beating so fast. And sweat was pouring down Scott's face. It was SO hot in there. No air-conditioning....and so many people in such a small space.
After awhile, Tuna was able to tell us that the Important Man in room 2 spoke English, so he was likely to want to speak to us himself. Tuna said that we should speak politely but confidently and ask for the passports ourselves. Okay, sure. I'm ready to speak to an Important Indian Man at a moment's notice--that's the kind of day it was, and we had to be ready for anything.
Scott went in first. He told Important Man that he was there to pick up his daughter and needed her passport. Then he motioned for me to come, and he grilled me with questions. He seemed so stern and unmoving, but praise God.......somehow (It was God, obviously!), we found favor with him. Cramazing.
Important Man told Tuna (who was now running the show...Mr. D had faded to the background for reasons we didn't understand at the time, but Tuna was doing great, so we went with it) that he had to go back to room #6 so that Important Man there could sign off on this. So back to room #6 we went. This time, Tuna went inside while Scott and I waited in the hall for more observation. Everyone was moving so quickly!
Two things I remember from that part of the wait. One--the bow at the top of my blouse had come untied, and when I noticed, I was mortified and told Scott that he had to have my back on stuff like that! You gotta tell your sister when she is being inappropriate! He said that he had thought that maybe I had done it on purpose. Ha ha. And two--we saw a bribe.
The area where Scott and I were waiting was right next to a glass door that said "No admittance. Printing in progress." or something like that. It was obviously the place where the passports were physically printed, and while we were there, a man came through the hall and talked to the family standing by the door. Scott and I watched as the family all pitched in and pooled their money, handing it to the official who went in the room with the money and came back with a passport.
That was crazy. Not cramazing. Just crazy.
Finally, Tuna emerged from room #6 and said that the Important Man there insisted that he could do nothing (more like he didn't want to do anything) and that Important Man in room #2 was the only person who could help.
So back to room #2 we go. This time, Important and Compassionate Man sent us to room #4, saying that that was the room where the man who signed the passports sat. Apparently, each room had an Important Man in it, but the Really Important Man worked in room #4.
Which we believed as soon as the door opened and the cold air from the window air-conditioner hit our faces.
Apparently, the guy in room 2 wanted to help us, but the reality was that the room 4 guy was the only one who could intervene in the process and make this happen without us having to just wait for who knows how long it might take for our passports to finally make it to the orphanage. We had to have room 4 guy sign off. Had to. It couldn't be done without his approval.
So we headed to room #4 to meet with Mr. Das.
And God went before us.
Remember, crazy + amazing = cramazing. That was this day....and the next.
Because of our lack of success the day before, Tuna had agreed to take us to the passport office on this day. He met us first thing that morning, along with our fabulous driver who was with us for the last three days in Orissa, driving us here, there, and everywhere! Unfortunately, he wasn't the same driver as Saturday, so still no sign of the FLIP. Supposedly, our Saturday driver had found it and was keeping it for us, but each day of not seeing it made it seem more and more unlikely that we would ever get it back.
Tuna (Have I mentioned what an incredible blessing he was to us?!) had done the behind-the-scenes arranging for us, and when he arrived, he informed us that Mr. D, the orphanage rep to the passport office, would be meeting us there. Again, we gathered in the hotel lobby and prayed, knowing that we absolutely needed God to move and desired for Him to get the glory.
The whole drive to the passport office was this great mix of anxiety and faith and excitement. I spent the drive looking our the window and talking to the Lord, asking Him to have His way, to make a way, and to prepare my heart for what was to come. I remember arriving at the passport office--our driver dropped us off directly across the street--getting out of the van, and looking up at the shiny blue building that had given us so much grief over the last month, thinking, "Wow. This is it. This is the place where the kings live. Someone in this building holds the key to Tom being able to leave the country or having to stay." And God knew. After all, "The king's heart is like channels of water in the hand of the Lord; He turns it wherever He wishes (Prov. 21:1)." And we were about to watch Him work.
From the second I stepped out into the street, all my sensor alerts were up, watching, smelling, sensing the eyes and the curious glances coming our way, and particularly my way. There were a few other women there, but not very many, and Scott and I were definitely the only people there without brown skin. It's not a bad thing to be different, but when you stand out that much, you definitely feel it.
We strode confidently behind our friend, Tuna, so thankful for his leading and his presence with us. Of course, we were even more thankful for the leading and presence of Someone Else. We had to go through the security gate, of course, and once we were inside, we saw the hoard of people. Just a huge mass of people crowding to get into the building. I followed Tuna, and Scott followed me, so that I wouldn't get lost in the crowd. The guys were definitely watching out for me, and I was grateful. Scott is 6 feet, 4 inches, and he snapped this picture with his phone as we moved through the crowd.
But we walked right through. Cramazing.
Once inside, Mr. D informed us that we needed to head upstairs, so we followed. At the top of the stairs, we turned left and entered the winding hallway lined with doors. Many doors, all marked with a number so as to distinguish this room from that. We were told that we were heading to room #6.
Inside room #6 was a desk that jutted out, perpendicular to the wall. On one side was seated a man who seemed to be rather important and who was shuffling papers from here to there. On the other side, another man was seated who appeared, perhaps, to be Important Man's clerk or aide. Standing next to the desk were 10 or 15 other men, all with papers in their hands and all clamoring to be addressed by Important Man.
Someone motioned to me to sit down in the one chair that was sitting next to the wall. Of course, he spoke to me in Oriya--no English here!--so I had no idea what he was saying. He looked angry, like, "What are you, a foreigner and a woman, doing here?!" But since I couldn't understand a word he said, I chose instead to pretend that he was saying, "Please, sit. You are a woman, so I give you preference." Denial was my friend just then.
I sat and watched the scene for 10 minutes or so, having no idea what in the world was happening. Mr. D was just one of many people trying to be heard by Important Man, and he lacked the assertiveness that I thought he probably needed. But what did I know? I didn't know the language or the culture.
But I knew the God who made both.
So I prayed.
I prayed for Mr. D. I prayed for Tuna. I prayed for me and Scott, who was standing by the door watching the same scene. Every now and then, we would glance at each other and try to communicate using non-verbals. I was so thankful that we were there together. At least I had a partner in crime who also had no idea what was going on.
I also prayed for wisdom and for insight. Finally, Mr. D was able to have an audience with Important Man, who told him that......our passports had not been issued and would not be issued now and to come back later.
What?
So I quick pulled out my screen shot (PRAISE GOD that He had prompted me to print that out!) that stated that Tom's "Passport has been granted and is expected to be dispatched by 20-05-2011. Subject to all documents being in order." I motioned to Scott who nudged Tuna, and Tuna delivered it to Mr. D explaining its seeming importance. Mr. D went back into the fray again, and this time, when he reached Important Man, Important Man couldn't brush him off. He seemed quite irritated by my little paper; even without knowing the language, I could figure that one out. Tuna later told us that Important Man kept saying, "Where did you/she/they get this??!" over and over.
I got it from your very own website, silly Important Man!
Moments later, Tuna motioned that I should get out of the chair and follow, so our entourage moved quickly down the hall, now being told that we were to go to room #2. At this point, I took some covert pictures on my own phone, which were then deleted by my eldest later in the trip. I wish I had those pictures to display the hecticness of that place. What was amazing was how people seemed to literally be shuffled from one room to the next. While Scott and I were standing in the hallway waiting, we watched one man go from room 2 to room 4 to room 6 to room 7 and back again to room 2. That happened multiple times. Such commotion. Such hubbub. It was impossible to tell if the movement and activity was actually resulting in anything or if perhaps it was all just an exercise in futility. Something must get done at some point, but it was hard to tell when.
So we waited. And prayed. Oh my. I remember my heart beating so fast. And sweat was pouring down Scott's face. It was SO hot in there. No air-conditioning....and so many people in such a small space.
After awhile, Tuna was able to tell us that the Important Man in room 2 spoke English, so he was likely to want to speak to us himself. Tuna said that we should speak politely but confidently and ask for the passports ourselves. Okay, sure. I'm ready to speak to an Important Indian Man at a moment's notice--that's the kind of day it was, and we had to be ready for anything.
Scott went in first. He told Important Man that he was there to pick up his daughter and needed her passport. Then he motioned for me to come, and he grilled me with questions. He seemed so stern and unmoving, but praise God.......somehow (It was God, obviously!), we found favor with him. Cramazing.
Important Man told Tuna (who was now running the show...Mr. D had faded to the background for reasons we didn't understand at the time, but Tuna was doing great, so we went with it) that he had to go back to room #6 so that Important Man there could sign off on this. So back to room #6 we went. This time, Tuna went inside while Scott and I waited in the hall for more observation. Everyone was moving so quickly!
Two things I remember from that part of the wait. One--the bow at the top of my blouse had come untied, and when I noticed, I was mortified and told Scott that he had to have my back on stuff like that! You gotta tell your sister when she is being inappropriate! He said that he had thought that maybe I had done it on purpose. Ha ha. And two--we saw a bribe.
The area where Scott and I were waiting was right next to a glass door that said "No admittance. Printing in progress." or something like that. It was obviously the place where the passports were physically printed, and while we were there, a man came through the hall and talked to the family standing by the door. Scott and I watched as the family all pitched in and pooled their money, handing it to the official who went in the room with the money and came back with a passport.
That was crazy. Not cramazing. Just crazy.
Finally, Tuna emerged from room #6 and said that the Important Man there insisted that he could do nothing (more like he didn't want to do anything) and that Important Man in room #2 was the only person who could help.
So back to room #2 we go. This time, Important and Compassionate Man sent us to room #4, saying that that was the room where the man who signed the passports sat. Apparently, each room had an Important Man in it, but the Really Important Man worked in room #4.
Which we believed as soon as the door opened and the cold air from the window air-conditioner hit our faces.
Apparently, the guy in room 2 wanted to help us, but the reality was that the room 4 guy was the only one who could intervene in the process and make this happen without us having to just wait for who knows how long it might take for our passports to finally make it to the orphanage. We had to have room 4 guy sign off. Had to. It couldn't be done without his approval.
So we headed to room #4 to meet with Mr. Das.
And God went before us.
2 comments:
Seriously?! Are you writing for Hollywood? Insert commercial here. You can't just stop here and leave me hanging! Arghhhhhhh!
I'll be back tomorrow. Like every hour to check if you've written. Love you :)
I agree, you've got to keep going! Cramazing for sure, but even more amazing ALL the details you remember, but that's just one of those things I love about you for sure!!
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