Mission Impossible

Last week I was sketching out a possible blog post, which after five attempts to get spell-check to recognize my intent, I was going to title “Bureaucracy – more than a wicked spelling word.” However, my purpose was to ultimately share my success in getting a driver’s license of some sort. Well, that didn’t happen.

Already I am laughing over the ridiculous twist of events from my weekend. If I didn’t laugh, I would cry. Maybe I actually did cry once. Down deep it was immensely frustrating.

A stateside ministry paid my round-trip airfare to Houston, Texas from Thursday to Saturday so that I could bring back some donated audio equipment for our Scripture recording studio. Since I have old friends from high school who live in Houston, my husband gave me the privilege of making this quick trip. Aha! I thought. I can kill two birds in one bush, or whatever it is they say, and also get a Texas driver’s license since we actually found all the required documents.

After almost three hours of waiting in the Department of Public Safety on Friday, my number was called. I couldn’t wait to get that piece of paper saying I was legal. Mentally, I had already finished my "bureaucracy" article rejoicing over my victory. Mentally, I was already doing the happy dance. Mentally, I was not prepared for the written exam I didn’t know I’d have to take. Sparing you the gory details, I flunked royally. It was not a happy moment.

Then on my return to Mexico, after a very fun time with my friends (making the trip well worth it in spite of it all!), everything that could go wrong, went wrong. Traffic jams, arriving late, discovering an embargo on boxes going into Mexico, demonically slow elevators, jammed parking lot computers, long lines and on and on.

It was a miracle I made my flight at all. The crowning insult was when the captain finally removed the “fasten seatbelt” sign and I jumped up in desperation only to find the one and only bathroom door locked with no one inside it. I was doing a dance in the aisle while waiting for someone to help bust the door open, but it wasn’t a happy dance. Whew. It was a close call, I assure you. I’m relieved to report the door busted before anything else.

Now I am home. Mission not accomplished. On my list for this week besides finding a courier for the two boxes I left behind, is my second trip to get my Mexican license. First attempt there was unsuccessful, too. Bureaucracy. Fun times. God is still good. Life is still good. I’ve gotta laugh or I’ll cry. Then again, it’s fun to do both together sometimes.

(Spelling tip for the day: type it out three times in context, then once just for fun: bureaucracy.)

IRL*is it possible that closed doors are a good thing?