“Where are the passports and tickets?”

It’s Tuesday. Todd should be leaving today. But he’s not. It’s nothing he did; in fact he’s more than ready to go. His bags are packed, he’s been set apart, and now he’s been put in the holding pattern, circling and circling his destination. Not yet at his destination, though no longer at his last point of departure. Stuck in some sort of limbo, a state of transition. Waiting for his visa to come through, waiting for the green light.

“I need to speak to the Jedi Council. The situation has become much more complicated.”

As we found out yesterday, the consulate in San Francisco was looking over the visa applications for the group of missionaries going to Brazil this week. Each missionary is required to produce a letter saying that the church they are going to go represent is recognized as a church in that area. Well there are nearly 30 different missions in Brazil alone, and as the lady in charge of the visas was looking over the letters, she noticed that the missionaries were going to places like Ribero Preto, Campinas, and the like, but all the letters were from Sao Paulo. Like most people, she assumed that although a church may have the same name, it doesn’t mean there is any sort of relation between them. Like the First Baptist church in Portland, Oregon is not necessarily affiliated with the First Baptist Church in Sweetwater, Alabama. So she wanted to see letters from each area that missionaries are going, demonstrating both the recognition of the church and the missionaries in that area. That was last week. Church lawyers had to scramble to draft letters for each of the areas (in Portuguese), take them to Sao Paulo, get them notarized by the Government, have them mailed to the Consulate in San Francisco, the lady in charge is actually on vacation, but fortunately another guy has offered to step in and process them. Then they have them delivered to the missionaries by courier service (Brazil doesn’t allow the passports to be mailed), and the Church Travel Services has to rework travel itineraries for the missionaries to get them down to Brazil. Fortunately this is only for missionaries who applied for their visas through the San Francisco Consulate. Unfortunately, that’s where Todd applied.

“Been here a week now, waiting for a mission, getting softer. Every minute I stay in this room, I get weaker, and every minute Charlie squats in the bush, he gets stronger.”

When you find yourself poised to make a change in life; getting married, going to college, moving to a new city, you may find yourself uneasy about the change, but once you have come to terms with the change (the end of the chapter) you are ready for the next chapter. I’ve come to find that the best and most effective way to deal with the loss of the past is to embrace the future. When I come to realize the benefits and advantages of the future changes and pending circumstances, that’s exactly what I want. Those benefits and advantages. In fact, I want them now. Since I can’t go back, then I want to go forward. You’re never comfortable in a transitional stage. Nobody likes trying to find a clean shirt or pair of socks out of a moving box every morning. Nobody likes to just kiss and hold hands, still as fiancées, for an extra week. (Wow, that would be a long week). And no one likes to sit around with their family and friends, finding more things they’re going to miss, when they’re leaving for two years. You have to turn the page and start the next chapter in order to really end the last chapter. You can’t just stop reading. (…yeah that would have to be one of the longest weeks of a person’s life, it’d be like, like a week of hell. Yeah, “Hell Week.”)

“It wasn't my fault, sir, please don't deactivate me. I told him not to go but he's faulty, malfunctioning. Kept babbling on about his mission.”

I’m going back to Oregon this weekend, back for a buddies wedding. And most likely Todd won’t have left yet. Which means I’ll get to see him again. (YES!) So I guess I feel a bit like Shaun Brumder’s Mom in Orange County. Upon finding out that he didn’t get in to Stanford, she hugs him and says “Oh I’m so sorry,” while grinning with excitement and delight in getting to see her son more. It will be great to see Todd again, but deep down we all know it’s time for him to go. We’ll have fun I’m sure, but I know that Todd’s heart’s already in transit to Brazil. Just waiting for the rest of him to catch up and get on his mission. But first, one last test of desire, one last test of patience. Preparation before the expedition. (Umm ok that “delay the wedding a week” thing again…I don’t think I could do that, man. I think…I think I would just have to go uh…elope and not tell anyone. Yeah, I think that’s what I‘d have to do. Totally.)

“Well, Rick, after tonight, I'll be through with the whole business and I am leaving finally this Casablanca.”
“Who did you bribe for your visa? Renault or yourself?”
“Myself. I found myself much more reasonable.”

…I know it sucks for him, but hey, [fist pumped in the air] “we’re stoked dude.”