Monday, July 5, 2010

Fret? Who's fretting?


You know the month before was really rough for me. I sent a whole email about it. Well this month has not been better. And today it got worse. This officially is the bottom for me,(until it gets worse). So this month is worse than the month before, already.

My mom lovingly sent a very very very important package to the wrong address but didn't tell me that she did until last week. So the package had been sitting at the post office for two weeks. It contains cash gift cards, my third Visa check card I have had to send for, and other cool stuff like beef jerky, pictures of my nieces and nephews, and fluff. So I finally tracked it down and went to go get it today.

It was not close, but after driving my moto all the way to the post office some 20 minutes, the man that would help start a chain of events that would ruin my month was waiting there with his stupid grin. I had called this afternoon before I had driven over to ask them specifically if my package was there. They said yes, just bring your passport and you can pick it up. I came with my passport, and Work permit in a case together to pick it up. The fool of a man who was suppose to help me could not find the package, and instead of asking someone else he claims that it should be with the person who signed for it at my old house 2 weeks ago.(what the H-E- double hockey sticks is he thinking) I told them how could that be, when I had called this morning and someone said it was here. So he invites me in and now there are two more useless guys talking it over with me about where the package could be. Again I tell them that the package was said to be here. They don't listen and are convinced that it is with the person who signed for the package. Already angry that they could be so incompetent, I tried not to tell them all off and tell them how stupid they could be for letting someone else take my package that has been sent half way across the world so easily, and then not have a clue as to where is it, I shook my head gritted my teeth and took off for the old house I used to live in. Which was not close by either. Another 15 minute ride on a moto-bike later I finally reached the house and started collecting my things and get ready to investigate as to where this package could be. That is when it all got worse. I noticed that my other documents are in my moto carrying basket except, my passport, and work permit case!!! YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!! That's what I said. The basket had broken off of it's weld, leaving the back of it unconnected. The work permit that I had so long waited, prayed, and waited, and waited for was lost, along with the other final piece of document that said who I was and the thing that allows me to be here. Gone. All the money, time and energy, gone. I took some deep breaths, remembering that I still had not even started to figure out where the package was. But knowing that with out my passport I couldn't receive it anyway.

After asking the neighbor that received my package, who had given it to the people who now live in the house, who had given it to the security guards, who had given it back to the mailman and who had brought it back to the post office which I started off in the morning in. NOT KIDDING. I could not tell you how out of it I was. I could not believe something like this was happening again to me. I drive all the way back to the post office, but now with a peace of paper from the guards showing proof that the box had been sent back to the post office with a specific person on a specific date. I go right back in the post office, straight to the back like I worked there, and got the attention of one of the three stooges. I show him the signed piece of paper, and tell him with all the patience left in me that this package has to be here. So he calls the guy whose name is on the sheet of paper. While he talks to the guy, he reaches on top of a computer where the package was, maybe ten feet behind the desk I was waiting at. !!!!!!!!!!! ANY, CURSE WORD YOU WANT TO PUT HERE. I felt just a little relieve to know the package was there. It was all mangled on one side but it looked like the holy grail to me. But then I had to ask the painful question. พี่ครับ ผมต้องมีหนังสือเดินทางที่ได้รับอันนี้ไหม. "yes, you need your passport." he said. I told him to wait while I checked the streets. and that I had just lost it. He looked at me weird but I had no choice.

Now the area I needed to cover was over 10 square miles,(yea impossible I know) so I just thought I would retrace the initial streets I left looking for the package at the old house. I rode around, stopping at every moto-taxi group asking if they had seen it, and left my number with at least one of them in case they found it. I did that for like 45 minutes. Then I parked the motobike back at the post office and decided to comb the main rode the post office is on. I went on foot. Again I ask each moto-taxi group and left my number. I even asked the lady who sweeps the streets. She pointed me at the mini police station underneath the highway. I walked there and he told me to visit the main police station in the area which couldn't be reached on foot. I asked the police officers if they had seen it, and he went on to tell me what I needed to do in this, "this is what you need to do, because I am your dad" voice. And he asked me, "Don't you have a Thai girl friend with you?" Nope, I forgot mine at home. Depressed, hot, hungry, dehydrated, and completely hopeless I returned to my bike after an hour. I popped my head back into the post office, and the same stupid grin of the man who started this whole mess was there looking at me again. It was then that I really wanted to tell him off. He was an idiot for sending me out in the first place when the package was there all along, and now both my passport, and work permit was gone, I waisted my whole afternoon, all my gas was gone and I still couldn't get my package! I asked if I could get the package if I had a copy of my passport, and he said no. No, huh. What the heck is the difference? Your gonna tell me your gonna be professional about that, but your useless when it comes to actually doing your job?!?! I didn't say a word. I wanted to kick his teeth in.

I actually rode back looking for the police station, but had no clue how far it was. It was miles until some thai friends of mine phoned me asking me if I needed help. I still hadn't found the police station, but one of my friends thought it wasn't smart, because I had no ID with me, and now I had no passport, or work permit. Thai law requires foreigners to be able to show these things when asked or face fines, deportation or imprisonment. I decided not to go. It had been 4 hours since I left to start this whole thing. I am so tired, angry, depressed, and done with this place. I have the equivalent of 2 bucks in my pocket, no ID, no passport, no work permit, no way to pay my rent, money I owe the lawyers in getting my work permit, and any other money I need to file a police report, get to the embassy, get new passport, work permit etc. I am emptied out. I can crash my bike, throw my computer out the window, and set my apartment on fire to finish it all off.

I started off this morning replying to a question from a friend from back home in Philly. He asked "define what brother means in Christ, we use this word so loosely?"
I typed back "I think when the early brothers use it, it was a term of endearment and to the amount of love, dedication and sacrifice they had for one another. Remember when Jesus asked the question," who is my mother and who is my brothers?" He points at the disciples and says "whoever does the will of my father who is in heaven is My brother, and sister, and mother." I know people say it to sound Christian, but your right, we should think a little more about what it means or what it takes to be called brothers and sisters in Christ. That means sharing in goods, wealth, time, relationship, etc. and love most of all."

I have that here in Thailand, Philly, Cambodia, Kansas City, South Africa, Chicago, and many other places all over the world. I am not worried about how it will turn out. It does not change who Jesus is. I know people who are in love with Jesus and they will support me. Those are my brothers and sisters, not just because they will help me, but because we all share in the will of the Father. They got my back. Frustrated, yes. Weary, yes. Weak, yes. Confused, yes. Hopeless, speechless, penny less, yes, yes, yes. The perfect recipe for miracles, testimony, faith, trust, hope, and love, in our Jesus Christ.

"Fretting rises from our determination to have our own way. Our Lord never worried or got anxious, because his purpose was never to accomplish His own plans, but to fulfill God's plans. Fretting is wickedness for a child of God." - Oswald Chambers