the weekend was full of brazilian friends, hillsong and delectable home made feasts...emily and i rocked up at the consulate. over the weekend we had learned that because of my youth and emily's years of experience beyond mine, she should be the one to do the talking. i should not even make eye contact or anything close...leave it to emily. we had received a letter from a goverment official in the stan endorsing not only the foundation we were working with but emily and i...we'd put the final touches on some paperwork, saw more finance come in, and really pressed in through inter-sesh.
over and over emily practiced our new government "friend's" name, so when she needed to reference the letter, his name could roll trippingly off her tongue. we entered the consulate as soon as it opened-although the desk we needed was not open for another hour and a half. we stared off into space, occasionally getting the urge to make the other laugh...i thought about having a quiet time, reading the word, and then realized that most likely the worst thing i could do. the time was passed by a little boy and his father, waiting for visa. the little boy did not listen to his father at all, rather his inner spider man, which made for much entertainment. at the stroke of eleven, our friend who had told us "NO!" and then given us the stipulations rocked up (emily and i accidently looked at him and smiled) and without even making eye contact with us said-"your letter has come through, your visas will be issued today". and so we held the building excitement until we organized our passports,etc. and then let it all out in the elevator ride-"AHHHHHHHH!".
thus began our frantic ticket booking, inter-sesh, final finance collaboration and insurance purchasing. we saw each dollar needed for the tickets, visas and insurance come through...how phenominal is our G*od.
that night we were on the plane through dubai and to our final destination.
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