Tuesday, August 26, 2008

UA Flight 922 - Part VII

“You can wash you hands there, at the sink.  There’s some soap and when you’re finished make sure you dry your hands.  Here’s some roll on the desk.” 

I was slow to move.  He brought me into this small room.  It was crammed with printers and scanners.  It looked a mess.  Papers cluttered all surfaces.  Dirty tile floors.  A drop ceiling that had one too many holes in it.  Two ancient looking digital cameras hooked up to some rod sticking out from the desks.  I wonder where the other man was.  The room wasn’t just Kane’s office.  Someone else had to be coming along. 

“Okay, let me see your hands.  Are they dry?”  He tore off more paper towel from the roll and really scrubbed my hands.  It was like those Indian Sunburns you give friends when you’re younger.  I never knew the point of them.  Some sort of childish torture.  That and noogies.  Or headlocks.  Or swirlies.  Or monkey bites.  Or a charlie horse.  Or pantsing, but that’s more psychological humiliation for all the world to see.  And I guess you’re allowed to do that to people when you’re younger because you don’t know better.  Plus, if ever your friend got you really bad, you’d just let out that high-pitched yell-scream-thing that kids orchestrate from their vocal chords.  Maybe you even jump up and get angry saying something like, “I’m never speaking with you again Mike Flynn.”  But really, you just make amends five minutes later and you’re back to the same non-sense as before.

The immigration officer began wheeling paint over a small rectangular metal surface with a paint roller.  He moved the ink back and forth like a painter on his canvas.  He was sure to miss no spots, to apply just the right amount.

“Okay.”  He always started every sentence off with “okay.”  “I’m going to take your finger prints now.  Try to be as relaxed as you can.  And let me do all the work.”  I wasn’t relaxed.  I couldn’t relax.  I tried shaking my hands, loosening them up a bit.  I know it was his job and all to tell me to relax, but really, was it necessary?  The mere request of relaxation at this point was fruitless. 

            He is a shield to those who walk in

                        integrity,

            guarding the paths of justice

                and watching over the way of his

                        saints.  (Proverbs 2:7&8)

I never relaxed during the whole stay.  I should have.  I should have known that it was going to work out for the best.  I should have realized that God was in control.  I never really gave complete control to God.  I kept trying to.  I kept saying, “Lord, take this from me.  I give you everything.  I give you my life.  I give you this trip.  I give you the whole of who I am.  Take control, Lord.”

Those prayers are tough prayers though.  Because they can’t only be words.  There has to be more to the prayers than the vocal tones of each word.  A person might pray similar prayers till he’s blue in the face, but it won’t make a bit of difference.

You have to mean those words.  You have to believe what you’re saying.  You’ve got to realize the power that language can hold.  And you’ve got to understand that the Lord already knows your affliction.  He’s already heard you long before you spoke a single prayer asking for help.  And you’ve got to realize that indeed he does have things under control. 

            And watching over the way of his

                        saints.  (Proverbs 2:8)

It’s a concept that hard to grasp.  I mean, how can the God of the universe actually help me, a man, a mere human being, someone who is here for maybe 70 or 80 years tops?  Come on now, are you seriously believing this stuff? 

But it’s true. 

Don’t ask me how.  Don’t ask me why.  I really can’t comprehend it, but I believe it with all of my heart.  When it comes down to it, my questions about life really don’t matter.  Because things will always be this way.  This crazy massive God that’s formed everything I see, perceive, witness, interpret, question, stumble over, step on, breathe in, get into, become angry with, cry with, get happy for, ecstatic over, frightened at, scared of, hurt myself on, run through, drive by, wave at, wonder about actually takes every second of my living, breathing, feeling, touching, experiencing life as far as I know it to continually be with me (emphasis added). 

            He is a shield to those who walk in

                        integrity.  (Proverbs 2:7)

I managed to relax enough for the officer to take me fingerprints.  He took my hand and went finger by finger pressing down each equally to the ink.  Then he’d take the finger and roll it over a little square on a piece of paper.  He explained that he was going for the surface of the finger.  Then he was going for the profile of each. 

I still stood nervous though.  Silent.  These people really weren’t too good at making me feel welcome.  It’s like they were all giving me the cold shoulder.  Their looks just told me that I did something wrong.

            He is a shield to those who walk in

                        integrity.  (The verse hasn’t changed.)

“Okay.  Now don’t worry.  Your fingerprints won’t be used for any other purpose than for the immigration office.  The police won’t have them.  We just want to make sure you haven’t forged any documents.”  I’m glad they were so confident in my honesty.  But they were really only doing their jobs so I had no reason to get upset.  It’s not like I was being accused of trying to sneak through their border to sell drugs or anything.  As far as they were concerned, I was.  I was just another incident to them.  Someone who at two in the morning was getting his fingerprints done by a guy with the same name as a Hollywood actor.

I never sat down.  I didn’t want to be impolite while he was filling out more paper work at his desk.  I didn’t want to do anything out of order.  The paranoia started to sink in even more at that point.

            He is a shield to those who walk in

                        integrity,

            guarding the paths of justice

                and watching over the way of his

                        saints.  (Still the same as before.)

The God of all that’s ever been and ever will be was fending for me.  The one reason I had to relax and I never realized it as I stood there awkwardly off set in some chaotic office.  I was being watched over, guarded, and shielded. 

Not to downplay it or any thing, but life’s taken care of.

Relax.

 

 

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