Taste and See

With the table set before our enemies, God turned the tables in a big way.  He allowed us to literally watch Him perform a miracle today.... to taste (again) and see (again) that He is good.  The feast was prepared and we were the partakers.  The enemy was crushed under the heel of the Way-Maker, the Miracle-Maker, the Life-Changer, Soul-Saver, Sin-Forgiver, Grace-Giver, Jehovah Jirah.  And we are so grateful.
The morning started out early, as Tesfahun thought it best to get to immigration early because everyone in Addis Ababa is at immigration every day it gets busy early and the lines get long.  We agreed, we wanted to get an early start on the passport paperwork with better chances of getting it completed in one day.  So, we were loading the van at 7am and off we went.  Tesfahun lives closer to Bethany and to immigration, so we met him at the Bethany office and he rode to immigration with us.  We arrived and Y'ALL.  It was 7:35am and it looked like it was noon.  THE PLACE WAS PACKED and bustling with people.  Everyone seemed to be holding the same white form in their hands in our first waiting area.  I will try to do it justice.  It's an outdoor waiting area that is covered on three sides.  On one end is one work area with immigration staff and on the other end is an enclosed office area with other office staff.  I have been there 3 times today and I still can't tell you what each end does.  But, that's why there's Tesfahun.  We sat on a wooden bench while Mark did the initial paperwork.  Tesfahun took it to the necessary end of the "room" and then whizzed back to the other end.  Eventually he motioned for Mark to join him.  When Mark came back to us he said, "Well, Momma, you're on.  You have to go in to do the passport because two men can't enter with one receipt.  So, you and Tyson will need to go with Tesfahun and I will take the big kids and go wait with Mengistu" (who, by the way, had arrived to meet us and wasn't allowed in).  So,we  stuck close to Tesfahun as we wiggled our way beside the open office end desk into a small room where a lady looked at our documents, said something in Amharic, and we squeezed back through again.  Tesfahun then said we were ready to enter the immigration offices... I thought we already had!  So, up an intimidating flight of outdoor steps we went, women enter on one side, men on the other.  I had to pull the, "I'm with him" and point card a million times several times today.  We entered and walked down the main walkway that eventually split, we went to the left and then immediately wound back around to our right.  We were still outside, but to our left was a LONG row of offices, each with a door that opened onto this covered sidewalk where we were.  Each door was numbered.  First, we sat outside of door 3.  We met a few nice men who were asking a lot of questions about our (obvious) situation.  Tesfahun said they were excited for Tyson to get to go to live in America.  Grateful.  It would've been more awkward if they had been disagreeing (which we have also experienced).  Eventually a women came out who looked like she worked at the DMV was (clearly) already having a bad day, despite the fact we were her 3rd customer of the day.  I did an internal chuckle when I read the gold name plate on her desk that stated she was the Customer Services director.  She looked over our paperwork and, as I was afraid of, she was unfamiliar with the infamous Adoption Certificate (remember the new document they are issuing instead of a birth certificate? The one we FINALLY got from the kebele?). Since we were (literally) the first family to EVER have an adoption certificate rather than a birth certificate, we knew we were the guinea pigs and immigration doesn't have a good reputation for their, well, their customer service.  Or their order.  Or their understanding.  Anyway....
Tesfahun calmly explained the situation about the new directive that involves the adoption certificate rather than a birth certificate (though Tyson has his original birth certificate).  She asked Tesfahun where Tyson was born and asked why it wasn't on the adoption certificate.  He replied that he knew it wasn't on the new form and that is why he had the kebele write the birth place and stamp and sign it on the back of his birth certificate.  The MEAN MAN  head director at the kebele yesterday refused to hand write the birth place on the adoption certificate, as Tesfahun knew it was important and that it would be an issue.  Customer Service Lady wasn't willing to listen and before I knew it she was handwriting a letter to somebody, somewhere, handed it to Tesfahun and he said, "Follow me."  We got outside and he was talking and walking at the same time... I could tell he was frustrated. He said, "We have to go to 11."  Um, ok.  So, we arrived at door 11 and there were 3 people already waiting.  He explained that the DMV lady door 3 lady wasn't willing to process Tyson's passport because she didn't want to get into trouble.  As I stood there I read the sign over door 11: Ethiopian Passport Services Head Director.  Great.  We are at the principal's office and it's only 8am.  Awesome.  Finally, we entered, Tyson had been A ROCK STAR the entire time, waiting patiently and keeping up with all our walking.  We entered the room, her intimidating desk sitting straight ahead.  Tesfahun explained, she didn't look up at any of us and she just started talking.  Tesfahun immediately started shaking his head no.  Then, they argued.   A lot.  Then I heard her say one word I could understand: Kebele.  And I prayed it wasn't what I suspected.  Based on Tesfahun's facial expression and body language, it wasn't looking good.  They exchanged words again and Tesfahun looked at me and said, "We have to go back to kebele."  I almost burst into tears.  I (loudly) said, "Are you serious? WHY?"
He was talking and walking as he said, "Now we are going to door 6."  As we walked he explained they were willing to begin processing the passport, but it would be pending until we could come back with Tyson's birth place hand-written, signed and stamped on the front of the adoption certificate from the kebele.  I COULD NOT BELIEVE IT.  We entered 6, a lady reviewed our papers, wrote something down and out we went.  BACK TO 3... DMV LADY.  She flipped through the papers again and asked a few questions.  Then I saw Tesfahun drop his head and exchange words with her again.  He looked at me so discouraged and said, "do you have your and Mark's passports?  They have never asked for those and I don't know why she needs them."  Much to his (pleasant) surprise both were in my bag.  I think she was just trying to be difficult, but we fulfilled her request.  Tyson sat in front of the white background and had his (cute) photo taken while she worked on her computer some more.  She handed us back our documents and off we went to the kebele.  When we finally reunited with the others (who had spent the last 2 hours shopping for Brycen a track suit to buy with his own money) they couldn't believe it when they heard "the k word" again.  Kebele.  You know who else was in for a surprise?  The workers at the kebele when all seven of us ROLLED BACK IN THERE in a blaze of glory.
On the way to the kebele we were literally praying for favor, knowing that yesterday MEAN MAN kebele director had refused to write the birth place on the adoption certificate.  We knew this was an uphill battle and we were ready to wage war.  We were prayed up and knew Tesfahun was nervous, but ready to settle it.  SO, the familiar "15" was in our sights again and the workers looked stunned when we re-rentered.  Tesfahun made his way to the front to explain our plight.  I am looking around for Kebele Director and don't see him.  But, we all saw the one kebele employee who had been ON OUR SIDE FROM DAY ONE.  He had cooperated and understood what we needed, why we needed it from the beginning...when we were all perched staring at each other for two days in the dark.  Today, he was the one behind the desk when Tesfahun explained it all.  I heard bantering, but I stood in the back praying.  Finally, Mengistu came over and said, "The head man isn't here right now and this guy wants to help us, but the other employees know if the boss finds out they will get into big trouble."  Turns out, the willing man even mentioned that writing on a government document can land you in jail!  I better understood why the hesitation.  When I saw that sweet man grab a pen and write on our adoption certificate, sign it, and stamp it, I batted tears away.  He knew he was doing the right thing, but he was doing it with no support from his co-workers and at the risk of losing his job OR GOING TO JAIL.  It wasn't until we were back in the car the I really understood what had happened.  Mengistu explained that Kebele Director was, indeed, working today, but he had just stepped out of the office for a second.  All the employees there agreed he would NEVER have done it.  Mengistu said, "Your prayers have been answered.  This is a miracle."  Tesfahun, sitting beside him, relieved and grinning said, "yes, it is a miracle."  We were in and out of kebele in less than 10 minutes while Mean Man was oblivious while GOD PERFORMED A MIRACLE.  Back in the van, Tesfahun was immediately back on the phone. He told us after hanging up that he knows Kebele Director's boss and Tesfahun called him to praise the kebele ANGEL MAN who signed and stamped and wrote on the adoption certificate.  The boss man replied, "Wonderful!"  We have prayed for this kind man all day... praying favor over him, blessings over him FOR DOING THE RIGHT THING.  Would you join us in praying against him losing his job?  Tesfahun feels confident he can't really go to jail, but promised the nice man that should he lose his job or go to jail over doing it he would represent him as his attorney for free.  WAY TO GO, TESFAHUN.
We were relieved and grateful and FLYING going quickly back to immigration because one small detail we hadn't known all day that Ethiopians "just know" is that federal officials only work until 11:30am on Fridays.  It was 10:45am.
Back to immigration, up the steps, through the women's check in (except this time we left Tyson in the car with dad), wound back around to the LONG row of doors and huffing and puffing winded, we finally flew back into room 3.  She snatched everything out of Tesfahun's hands and examined it closely.  Then, she started typing.  She asked for the spelling of our last name 3 times and all 3 times Tesfahun told her.  She finally gave us a nod and out the door we went to room 7 (one I hadn't seen yet!).  It was the cashier.  We were paying and then OUTTA THERE.  Not so fast.  Once the receipt was printed and Tesfahun was outside showing me where to pick up the passport, he realized DMV LADY HAD SPELLED OUR LAST NAME WRONG.  Tesfahun, "I told her mC, not mE."  He asked me to stay standing in one place and off he went... please understand, I am NOT exaggerating here.  He was back into 3, then to 11 (principal), back to 3, into 6, then 7.... and he assured me Tyson's passport should have the correct last name.  Needless to say, I wasn't holding my breath.  Our assigned time to return to pick up the passport was 4pm.
We piled back into the van and I rehashed the whole thing to Mark and glanced at my watch: 11:36am.  Satan, TAKE THAT.
We took Tesfahun back to Bethany and then we went close by to lunch at Tivoli (same place as 2 days ago) and it was delicious.  While we were eating I asked if there was a coffee place close by because MOMMA HAD A STRESSFUL MORNING I needed something warm to comfort me after
all the running around.  Mengistu's eyes perked up when I mentioned coffee and he said there was his favorite local place just up the street.  So, after lunch we walked there and YALL.  Please see my instagram feed for pictures. BEST COFFEE PLACE EVER (except for you, KBREW).  Good grief, sitting in there you KNEW you were in Africa.  And, Mengistu suggested Mark try a tea and coffee drink (they are together with a little bit of sugar).  Apparently it's very popular here and Mark was all for it.  Turns out he says it's one of his top 3 coffee drinks OF ALL TIME (that's saying a lot).  Next thing I knew Mark, Mengistu, Brycen, and Tyson were up talking to the barista (his name was Joshua).  Mark wanted details on how to make it.  Joshua showed him and then gave him the one he made.  We have big plans for it, Knoxville, you just wait.  There are a few tricks to getting it right so we won't reveal all we know just yet.
On our caffeine high, we walked around the corner to the Bethany office to let Mengistu work for a bit.  We were already pretty close to immigration, so we didn't want to go too far away.  As we waited we talked to the Bethany nurse again about Tyson's Visa medical testing that has to be done in order for us to apply for an Embassy interview.  The medical testing requires a passport, but she said if we got the passport today, he would begin testing  Monday.  Then, she mentioned him needing a photo for the medical testing, so Mengistu told us we would do the photo on the way to immigration.  We left the Bethany office around 2:30 so we would have plenty of time in case traffic was horrible.  It wasn't (miracle number 2).  We actually arrived at the intimidating steps at 3:10pm.  Mengistu was the one going with me this time and we decided to go give it a try early, but knew it was a long shot.  We arrived to the pick up area with 7,200 other people a crowd of people.  We went to the appropriate window (after fighting through the crowd).  The people waiting told Mengistu they had pick-up times for 2pm and they still didn't have passports... it's now 3:20pm.  Finally, the woman at window "A" (for Asnake) acknowledged us, looked at our receipt, and told us to come around the building and to come inside.  Um.  Ok.  We still aren't 100% sure why, except that we had paid for the passport to be expedited.  Either way, we entered and inside we found 6 desks each covered with passports in stacks that were rubber banded together.  It appeared one desk held passports with names beginning with A-C, another D-H, etc.  Mengistu gave the lady our receipt and we sat beside the "A" desk while she went through the stacks.  I knew we were way early and assumed we would be waiting a long time.  The last passport of the second stack seemed to match our receipt so she confidently gave it to Mengistu.  I said, "You look first and PLEASE TELL ME OUR LAST NAME IS SPELLED RIGHT."  He looked and said, "Yes, I think so."  AND IT WAS (miracle number 3).  And it was only 3:34pm (miracle number 4).  Our baby boy has a passport and we are thrilled.  Both Tesfahun and Mengistu have assured us that from here on out, the process is merely formality.  It seems to be so.  We have even tossed around knowing when we will definitely return home, but we will hold that close to the chest for now.  I will let you know as soon as we know for sure.
When we explained to Tyson that he had a passport, he smiled big and said, "Tomorrow morning go to America?" I wish!  But, no.  He now knows what we are waiting for and we have a countdown to America going.  We all drank Mirinda's (similar to orange Fanta) on the way home to celebrate.  We had lots of spontaneous, unsolicited hugs today.  Every day it seems that the Lord gives us greater clarity and bonding with Tyson.  It was night 3 for "You and me.  Lay down. You sing. Me sleep."  He held our hands today constantly while we walked (or he held Mengistu or Tesfahun's), but mostly us.  He adores Brycen and Regan and they adore him.  He giggles when I smell his stinky socks or give him belly-button kisses and I kiss the top of his head about a trillion times a day.  I watched him as he watched out the van window today and I cried.
He set the table in the presence of our enemies.  And He allowed the tables to turn so we could taste and see that He is good.  OVER AND OVER AGAIN.  He made no subtle moves today.  They were all purposed and ON TIME.  They were all orchestrated by His mighty hand and Sovereign heart.  He left NO ROOM for glory to go to anyone else.  We all knew it was a miracle today and we all praised him.  I cried coming home with that passport.... He's just been so kind.  As I lay my head down tonight, I am reading (again) Psalm 34:8

      Taste and see that the Lord is good.  Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him!

It goes on in verse 10...
 
     Even strong young lions sometimes go hungry, but those who trust in the Lord will lack no good thing.

NO GOOD THING.  Praise You, Jesus!

Heart full.  The battle has been emotionally and spiritually exhausting, BUT SO ENCOURAGING AND FAITH-BUILDING.  I wouldn't have traded it for a smooth sail for anything!  He's taught us so much about Himself, about adoption, about this culture, and about ourselves.  Mostly, about His ability to MAKE A WAY where there seems to be NO WAY.  Our Way-Maker.

Taste and See.

He is good.

Until WE'RE home,
carrie