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?

Extenuating Circumstances

Last week I sent out another memorable prayer update. A classic. I started my email by relating a story about my daughter’s school assignment in which she was to calculate her father’s age in Roman numerals. The worksheet mistakenly said that “M” was fifty, so my daughter wrote that her dad was MVI. I thought that was so cute, since our sending agency’s initials are MVI. Then I added something about the following day being my Mth birthday.

The joke was on me. Soon I had a flood of responses teasing about how we are both older than Methuselah, since M is actually 1000, not 50. Hopefully people will remember some of the prayer requests and ministry news, and not just my silliness. I had to send out a retraction saying it was my Lth, not my Mth birthday.

I did have a very good birthday, by the way. Thank you. Except…

...it turns out my driver’s license expired on that very same day.

Some of you are groaning. You already know what I’m discovering yet again. People outside the U.S. borders cannot renew driving privileges online, post 9-11. Not in Ohio, anyway.

Methuselah and I spent long hours trying to finagle a way to accomplish this simple task. One option was to fly to some other random state where the regulations are friendlier to persons who do not fit within “the box.” I hear Arizona is a great place for online renewals until you turn 65. That’s tempting. (One photo of the 50-year-old me for the next fifteen years.) No can do. What proof can I possibly provide of residing in that state?

It is impossible. For the first time in sixteen years of living in this country, I am forced to apply for a Mexican driver’s license. By the time we drive to the U.S. for my son’s wedding next summer, my application will have red flags all over it due to the time lapse of seemingly not having a license. I’ll be required to get a learner’s permit for two weeks (and drive again with Mommy in the front seat, I suppose?), and retake the written and driving exam. That’s a memory I do not prefer to repeat.

The last time I took the test in Ohio, the examiner was a stickler for petty details like coming to a complete stop at stop signs. What kind of craziness is that? In Mexico that would get me rear-ended by other drivers. I explained to the woman that she simply had to pass me, or I would never hear the end of it from my sons whom I had taught to drive. She did not think that was her concern. She didn’t even smile.

Just once I wish there would be some tiny allowance for people like me who live their lives smack dab in the middle of extenuating circumstances.

IRL*Just like stop signs, driver's licenses are a necessary nuisance...