1, 2, 3... Wait! No, GO!

By now many have been following the saga of Pastor Mario’s visa application in to Equatorial Guinea. After yesterday’s drama, we left this morning with confidence. So much so, in fact, that we said our good-byes to the other half of the team, which would be traveling to the Bongolo Hospital in the southern part of the country on Saturday morning, packed the SUV, and headed to the embassy for that illusive visa so that we could commence our journey.

We arrived at 9:00, a bit earlier than the promised 10:00, but Steve is ever the optimist. The gentleman from yesterday followed us into the entrance, greeted us kindly, and then disappeared behind the curtain. About that time, a man in the corner that acts as a sort of secretary for the waiting area informed Mario that he wasn’t allowed to enter the embassy wearing shorts. That should have been a sign to us, but hey, we’re a bit dense. So we waited—four of us inside, and Mario on the steps outside. About 45 minutes into the wait, Mario finally decided to find his suitcase, pull out some jeans, and change. Don’t ask me how or where he did that… honestly, I don’t want to know. Either way, moments later Mario entered with jeans on, got a word of affirmation from the man in the corner, and took his position on the seat next to Steve.

And we waited.

10:00 went by. Then 10:30. By 10:45, Steve had already asked several times. Then 11:30. Then 12:00. Finally, around 12:40 or so, the same man walked back in the front entrance of the waiting area (he had escaped about an hour before, but Steve continued to text him even in his absence) and made a beeline for the curtain. However, on his way there, he may have moved his hand towards us a bit—which was all that was necessary.

Brian: “Steve, did he ask you to come with him?”

Steve: -- --.
(Without word, Steve runs behind the curtain after the man.)

And now, it’s Steve that’s gone for a bit. 10 minutes? 20? After sitting for almost four hours, who’s really counting. He was gone a bit. And then he returned. And he didn’t look happy.

Seems that another verification stamp was needed on the letter of invitation. I guess it wasn’t such a “model” after all. No visa until the stamp is there. And the embassy closes for the weekend in two hours. “Bon chance” as they say in Gabon—good luck.

Steve made phone calls, sent emails, and we prayed and prayed. Nothing. Closed for the weekend. Opportunity gone. Frustrating.

One of the phone calls Steve made was to Pastor Jean Marc. Jean Marc is one of the former Presidents of the C&MA in Gabon, a great man of God, and one of those guys that everyone knows. Jean Marc was the one who had finally secured the letter of invitation through a contact in EG. Steve gave him an update, and he gave Steve an alternative plan. Seems that EG will also give visas at the border. We could simply drive there and try. Of course, the border is a nearly nine hour drive from Libreville. Bon chance.

Steve initially protested that it didn’t make any sense to make that drive if Mario had been effectively turned down at the embassy. It was then that Pastor Jean Marc said that words that stuck with me all day: “Steve, you need to have faith.”

Faith? I’m all for faith, but in this instance, I wanted faith along with documents! Drive nine hours on faith, after already being turned away? Isn’t that crazy?

That’s the real question, isn’t it? When do we simply buckle down and trust God, and when do we interpret the circumstances all around us? Gideon was outnumbered before he started—and then God reduced the odds to the ridiculous. All common sense said “run away.” It made no sense. But in faith, they push through—and God wins the battle. (See Judges 7) Or what about barren Abraham and barren Sarah, two old empty-nesters who never did have a full nest? God promises them in their old age that He will build them into a great nation. Years pass, still no kids, and now their well into their Social Security. It makes no sense. “Abram believed the Lord, and he credited it to him as righteousness.” (Genesis 15:6) He had faith.

I don’t want to be misconstrued as giving license for foolishness. There are certainly times to pay attention to what makes sense—in fact, more times that not. But where does faith come in? For us, it comes in after years of prayer, months of preparation, endorsement by our church Elders, and a keen sense of God’s presence throughout the whole process. As long as He shows us there’s a step still in front of us, we will walk in it.

And so, that’s why the alarm will go off at 3:50am tomorrow. We’ll groggily pack the old Nissan Patrol up again, and head north. We’ll pick up Pastor Guy Roget (Gabon’s National Director for Mission and Evangelization) a few kilometers in. All seven of us will make the nine hour trek toward the border, and from there, we’ll see what’s next. Whether we are allowed across the border or not, we will trust God for the next step. Because that’s what it means to follow a Lord.

“You need to have faith.” Indeed. Jesus, may it be so.