We woke up last Saturday morning with a new mission: to apply for our visas.
Money orders, paperwork, addresses and phone numbers of places we are going to stay, more photos, and on and on.
It was a mad dash to get our visas off to the Post Office, and then the familiar feeling began again: we waited.
We knew that we could get our visas as soon as Wednesday, but we knew we had to sign for them, so we made sure that we were home by our usual mail drop-off time: 3:00 p.m.
When Ken pulled into the driveway, his first stop was the mailbox to make sure it was still empty.
Only it wasn’t.
There was a little yellow slip indicating that they had tried to deliver a package, and that we could pick it up on Thursday after 9:00 a.m. Knowing that we couldn’t buy plane tickets or make reservations until we had our visas in our hands, Ken couldn’t take being “yellow slipped.” So he drove to the post office, knowing that it wouldn’t be there yet, but he wanted to see if there was anything that could be done.
At first the postal workers weren’t impressed that he wanted his package, but when they heard why it was so important, they told him that they would call him as soon as the driver was back from his route.
Satisfied, Ken departed for home.
Then he realized that he wasn’t satisfied.
Knowing that the mailman was likely still in our neighborhood, Ken started scouring the streets. When he finally found him on the other side of the neighborhood, he excitedly approached the truck. And then he realized that an excited man rushing toward a mail truck might not be construed in the right way.
So Ken slowed down, pulled out his yellow card and held it up, asking if he could claim his package. The postman recommended he pick it up at the post office the next day. So again, Ken started to explain that we needed the visas to buy plane tickets to pick up our children. He was about to pull out pictures when the postman relented, found our package, and allowed Ken to sign and take it.
Ken was so excited that he almost hugged the postman, but clearly, he did not share Ken’s sense of adventure and enthusiasm.
When Ken arrived home, I met him there, and was able to book our flights and finalize details of our trip. We are headed out soon!
Because of the public nature of this blog and for security reasons, we are going to refrain from posting travel plan specifics here, but if you are interested, please check out my Facebook page. This will likely be my last post until we return with our two kids!
As always, your prayers are appreciated. While we are close, we are not quite there yet. Travel to the DRC is not as simple or safe as other countries, and we need the Lord’s hand of protection as we seek to finish off the spiritual battle over our kids hearts and lives.
Ready or not, here we come!