"Lord, you said you had a plan for me. You said you'd provide a way. That you know the way." I couldn't stop praying. I was afraid. Confused. I did the only thing I knew to do in those life-changing-dire-not-looking-so-hot moments; I prayed and kept praying. "God, give me the grace and mercies to accept any decision rendered. Help me through this. See me through this."
I didn't know what was going on in my mom's head. She nervously sat next to me. She couldn't sit still. "Where are they? They're taking so long. Poor Josh has been waiting for so long. Do you think he has the bags?" Her mind was obviously racing on overdrive.
"Mom, it'll be okay." I reverted back into the convincing mom and myself mode. Because when you wait alone for so long in some foreign area in a time when things really aren't going according to plans, all you do is try to convince yourself that everything will be all right.
My covenant with him was one of life and peace, and I gave them to him. It was a covenant of fear, and he feared me. He stood in awe of my name. (Mal 2:5)
Finally two black ladies came over. They seemed nice when I first saw them. nothing too scary I guess. I can't even say why I was really scared that whole time. I mean - I knew God had everything worked out. I knew no harm would come to me. The worst thing that could happen was getting sent home. It's not like I was going to get beat or flogged or get the twice over from bad cop good cop. After all, I was an American semi-in England. Those two countries have good political relations, right? A fairly good history, leave aside the whole Boston Tea Party since throwing away tea probably pisses off the Brits way too much. Oh, and the whole American Revolution and us breaking away from His Majesty. Maybe I was in trouble after all, but there was still no logical reason to worry.
In her gentle British accent one of them told us what was going to happen next. They just wanted my luggage. Easy enough. But I think both mom and I stumbled out of the chairs when we got up. And I didn't even have any shots of Jim Beam or Jose Cuervo; I stumbled with anxiety fumbling what little belongings I kept. I shuffled my feet like they were shackled and cowered along like a dog with its tail between its legs. Hopefully no one noticed; I was trying to hide all emotion at that point.
Luckily we found Josh again. He was waiting down at the baggage claim. Me and him just gave each other those looks like:
"You're screwed" - Josh.
"Yeah, I know, but God will provide a way" - Me.
"True that homes" - Josh with his "G-Hetto" impression.
I don't think I really spoke that entire time. I would just give a quick "yes" answer, shuffle my feet and scramble to try and do as they asked. I kept re-assuring my mom that it would be okay. Told her I'd be seeing her soon. But never got to hug her good bye. And that proved to be the last time I'd see her during my English imprisonment.
Those two black ladies tore apart my luggage. One started in on my backpack. The other went for the gold mine of clothes. They unlatched every latch on the bags. Unclipped every clip. Un-zippered all of the zippers. They just went at the luggage like it was a Thanksgiving Day feast. And all privacy became public.
They fingered through my poverty-stricken wallet pulling out old receipts. And the one thing I probably didn't want them to find was in there. It was a little letter Sorrel gave me when she first arrived to the States. "Blue Eyes," she titled it. It was only for my eyes. Apparently, that one immigration officer didn't think so.
I never thought I would get angry about some little invasion of privacy. But my insides were boiling. Why did they have to read an innocent note from my girlfriend? It's not like they were instructions on how to build a bomb or a quick reference guide to deceiving the UK Border Agency. It was a little note written on flimsy paper that I kept in my wallet. That's all. A love note, if you will. The kind that you pass around during school when the teacher's not looking. The one where it's only for that one special person. The one that maybe only says, "I love you" in it.
But I guess all of my freedom was taken from me that night. I couldn't stop them from searching my bags. I couldn't tell them not to read the letters. They apparently had all of the right in the world to be doing what they were doing since I had lost all of my rights. You see, I was the one that messed up in their eyes. I was the suspicious kid who told a story of my only wanting to help people. "I just wanted to reconnect with my church, see my friends and learn to love my girlfriend much more than what I knew," I said. But they weren't having it.
And sometimes life is like that I guess. Sometimes people won't believe your story; it doesn't matter if it's the truth. Sometimes you'll just be a fake in their eyes, someone who wants to invade their country per se. It's only a distraction though. Because you need to remember:
My covenant with him was one of life and peace, and I gave them to him. It was a covenant of fear, and he feared me. He stood in awe of my name. (Mal 2:5)
God, the Creator of the galaxies, the Creator of you and me has made a covenant with us. When you look up at the stars at night you see creation for its fullest. Don't question how it came to be. Know that it's the works of the Lord. And know that the same Lord who created that beautiful vastness made a covenant with you: for life and peace.
I just watched as my life was torn apart by those two immigration officers. I never stopped praying. Because even though they tore me from all of my materialistic life, they could never tear me from my Lord and Savior.
His covenant remained.
No comments:
Post a Comment