Tuesday, March 10, 2015

IOM Appointment #1- God's intervention.

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My alarm went off at 6:00am to be up in time to get myself ready, get the kids ready, and get a make-shift breakfast ready, since we had to leave at 7:00am, we would miss the normal breakfast. All in order to get to IOM in time to be there at 7:30 like the stone face lady from Friday told me. 

Except from 3:00am, until we had to leave, I was up sick. No idea what was up. But sick, sick, sick. It was 6:40am, I was still laying in bed groaning and praying. Literally asking God to deliver me from this sickness. The thought of getting the kids up, ready, in a van with no air conditioning, through a traffic jam, to them sit in IOM for hours.....barf. Literally. But I knew we couldn't miss this appointment. We could not. 

I was praying since we went to make the appointment on Friday, that God would keep at bay, ANY kind of distraction or hindrance of getting to this appointment. That doesn't mean that God didn't answer my prayer, or that He made me sick. But, that Satan absolutely would try anything and everything to put a road block from us getting to that appointment. I knew it. Right away. It was the enemy. He hates adoption. Hates it. 

I mass texted and made a Facebook-status plea for prayer. 

Our driver arrived on time- praise! He dropped us off at 7:28- praise again! To realize they don't even open until 8:00am. So there we were. The three peas in a pod, standing outside the gates with a dozen others. By this time, I was feeling almost back to normal health wise. If I could communicate to you just how rotten I felt in the wee hours, it literally does not make sense that I was feeling almost back to normal when we got to IOM. I 100% believe the power of prayer and Jesus delivering me from that illness. I was reading psalm 34 all morning too, for truth and encouragement. 

Finally, the guard opens the gates. Let's a few file in after checking a list. (Like we were trying to get into some A-list celeb party, or what?) Then, he looks at me at the end of the line and said, "You here for TB?" I said YES! And he let me through the line. 
We walk in, hand over my passport, sign in, and walk up this gigantic hill driveway to the reception desk. I was praying for a smooth day and that Jesus would get us our of there soon to go back home and rest.

I walk into one of the waiting rooms, and another lady with a list comes by and asks the child's name, also asking for TB? I answered yes to both and she said she would be right back to call us up, it was almost 8:00. Not too shabby. 

This list lady came back and told me she couldn't find his name. I kindly told her that must be a mistake, we were told to be here at 7:30! She had even complimented our punctuality too! I offered her the passport for C, in case spelling was an issue? She took it and said she would check. 

Two minutes later, she calls us forward. "praise Jesus!", is exactly what I said as we headed to the front. Unfortunately, she told me they had had scheduled for Wednesday, the next day. I told her that was impossible because before leaving there on Friday, I asked her three times to confirm our appointments, to which she told me, "Tuesday at 7:30 for TB. Come back Thursday for it to be read and both children have physicals done." I even tried asking for a Monday appt after that, but they were full. I didn't mind, Tuesday was good enough. Friday, i emailed the embassy, our attorney, told our driver so he could arrange pick up again, and of course emailed our update list- so everyone could be praying for those two times. 

I knew this was a mistake. The bummer was, she refused to do anything about it. "I'm sorry, you have to come back tomorrow." Straight face. No emotion. Nothing. No big deal. Don't care. I was so emotional inside and managed somehow to (mostly) keep that on the inside so I could plead my case. 

I told her all about how I had passed on the appointment times to embassy, attorney, driver etc, how coming tomorrow- delays everything, paying for another trip and driver for Wednesday, and also told her that I believed she needed to make this wrong right. She just looked at me with a blank stare. Like. She literally did not care that she made a mistake. (Which she finally admitted to) 

I asked her to make a phone call and ask if they could fit us in, a TB test takes a few minutes is all. She said she already tried, "What else do you want me to do when they refuse?" I told her I didn't want her to give up, and try again! I would wait as long as it took, as she said their files weren't ready for Carver. I. Would. Wait. 

Lord just get us in! 

Right at this moment, another dad and his adoptive son from our guest house (a friend) comes in for his appointment. I relay what happened. He relayed to me his dilemma he also had this morning. We both felt frazzled and both knew what we've all had to endure through this, with all the frustrations. 

Back to the stone-faced lady. She finally tells me she will call again and see but told me to wait outside. I for sure thought she wanted me outside so that I didn't know if she didn't call. Not kidding. There was that much opposition in her attitude and carelessness. Meanwhile, Carver is now screaming because another little girl passing through (unattended) is trying to jack his Magna-Doodle we brought for a distraction. Macy will not let me put her down. It's hot. And I'm panicking inside. 

This whole time I was constantly praying, out loud. Not even silently. Just praying that God would intervene. That He would make a way. That He would make this right for the righteous. The verse "be still and know I am God" and "The Lord will fight for you, you need only be still...." Kept flooding my mind. I was nervous, but had a peace. Which doesn't make sense. 

When I went out to wait, I sat with our friend and his son, and his agency facilitator. We told the facilitator what was going on and he said, "Let me be right back." He goes in and comes out in less than two minutes and said, "She will work on you", meaning whatever he may have said, got her to trying harder? It's 9:00am by now. 

Our friend and his son get called in for their appt, and I was left outside, amongst people, yet feeling alone. My "advocates" just left the area. I have no idea how long of a wait I should wait before asking if she forgot about us, or was fed up with us. 

I pulled out a hot wheels car for Carver, rings for Macy, and my Bible app for me. I was on Psalm 35 for the day. And little did I know, this was the heading: 



I sat there and read that chapter out loud. Mid chapter, I heard his name be called! I hoped up so fast and raised my hand, "THATS US!" Another lady said, "Go around the back of the building please!". I got up so fast and grabbed the kids and told Carver to pray with me, and he repeated every little thing I said. 

"dear Jesus, THANK YOU for being our shield. For coming to our rescue. For delivering us. Thank you for getting us in. Thank you Lord almighty!" 

We went around back, walk into the office, sit my bag down, set Macy down and hope she doesn't flip out, grabbed Carver and sat him on my lap, the doctor swapped his arm with alcohol, and then got the needle ready in which now Carver is freaking out just watching and refusing to straighten his arm, and now Macy is screaming. 

But by golly, God just worked a miracle and we were getting this injection! 

Three minutes. Three minutes is all I was in that office. I asked them three times to repeat and confirm when they wanted me to come back on Thursday. They said 9:00am. (Mind you, there is no business card they write the date and time down on for a reminder, they send Zero confirmation emails or numbers to you, nothing.) it was now almost 10:00am. 

We left and I literally could not believe the feeling that I had of the pure joy and shock and awe of our God. I can't explain it. I've never been a part of something so clearly impossible, be made possible like what just happened. It was so obvious, so clear- it was the hand of God that intervened. Using the facilitator. Or He, himself. I was elated the rest of the morning. Carver and I rejoiced all the way back to the driver and shared the awesomeness with him as well. It was unreal. 

Log story short. We got in. We go back Thursday and then PRAY FOR A MIRACLE, that the IOM results get sent to the embassy in time for a Wednesday, March 18th embassy appointment. Another miracle. That "shot of a chance" would have never been possible if we didn't get in today on Tuesday. 

Rejoice with us. Pray with us. 

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