A Saturday Evening Post

Ten years ago, our son was almost a Ukrainian citizen. Our youngest child, Anthony, was born in Ukraine, but they do not offer dual citizenship, so, we had to apply for an American passport. In the meantime, he was treated as Ukrainian. Being a young country, Ukraine’s bureaucracy was already a nightmare. To throw a foreign birth into the mix was a whole new level of nail-biting buffoonery.  

My parents came to visit when I had the baby. They came on a visitor’s visa which meant they could only remain inside the country for three months. They hoped to leave Ukraine and go to Poland and reset the clock and they could come back and stay for another three months. So, when the baby was three months old, we planned a trip to Poland together. 

To leave the country, we had to have an American passport for Anthony.  To get an American passport, we had to first apply for an American birth certificate. To get that, we had to submit a certified copy of our marriage certificate from the capitol of the state we were married in.  The records department in Carson City, Nevada was hesitant to release it, we had to arrange for my sister to pick it up and send it over (it was quite convenient that she was living in Carson City at the time). Once we had it, we then had to have it translated into Ukrainian, which was difficult because no one speaks Ukrainian…correctly anyway. Once finished, Andrew had to run this copy to the office in Nikopol and have it stamped and signed, and then to the region bureau to be officially stamped. Before finally being taken up to Kiev, the capitol of Ukraine. Also, keep in mind that each of these locations had strange office hours and were only open for a few hours a few times a week.  Obviously, we could not even start the process of getting his passport until the embassy processed the birth certificate. The problem was the countdown had already begun and time was rapidly running out. We got the birth certificate and thought that the passport process would now proceed much quicker, but we then ran into one final obstacle; American passports are only processed in the United States. Application and documents had to be mailed to America, processed, and returned. And my parents had a drop-dead date looming. 

We bought train tickets to leave on the very last day my parents could legally be in the country, the embassy was sure they would have it, and Andrew could pick it up in the morning with plenty of time to catch our train in the afternoon. Problem was, it was not at the embassy like they said it would be. The consul said the mail was delivered twice every day, so there was a narrow chance it could be in the second delivery, which was scheduled to arrive an hour before we had to be on the train headed out of the country. If it wasn’t there, my baby could not leave the country while my parent’s visitor’s visa would run out and they would have to be stranded in Poland. 

Andrew went back in the afternoon, precisely at 12:30. The mail still had not come. But the guy said he would go to the other side of the embassy. It could have been delivered, but not brought into his office yet. One could hope. (The American embassy in Kiev is one of the biggest in Europe) Andrew started to breathe again when the man came back with the passport in his hand. Andrew took it, flagged a taxi, and prayed for no traffic! 

Andrew said when he was waiting for the man to check the mail, he pictured himself on that train, with our son, and the passport.  

“Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will.”  – Matthew 10:29 

When you are in a tight spot, try picturing yourself paying that bill or finding that key, or whatever it is that you are asking God for. God knew what we needed long before we knew we were even going to ask Him for it. He knows the hairs on your head and will provide for you. It might be close, but just trust Him.  

Prayer is such a funny thing. Sometimes, it feels like God is playing games with me. This time I wait; maybe yes, maybe no. I get to feeling like a tennis ball being tossed back and forth on a court. I am trying to understand the lesson I am supposed to learn so he will hurry up and answer my prayer.  

Me: “Ok God, I’m patient now, now will you answer my prayer?!?”  

In this situation, I felt like I could not sit around and wait for His timing. A train schedule is such a hard and fast obstacle to be up against. But God knew that. He just wanted to build my faith and teach me… again, that he will always keep His promises.