Note: The following blog entry is from my mass email (those of you who read both!) More unique additions to follow...

As most of you know it is finally completed. I am a US citizen. In the end it was easy—when God runs things it usually is! I showed up at about 7 a.m. at the immigration office. I just had a peace that it was all okay. I told the guard that Mr. McCain said to come to the door and they would let me in. So the guard let me in. He did not seem to talk to anyone—just sent me through the metal detector and told me to have a seat on the yellow chairs. I sat in the same area that was curiously quiet this time since the busiest part of the office is closed and they just do some select appointments. I barely had time to sit down and decide if I wanted to read the paper I picked up in the hotel lobby at 6:30 a.m. or write in my journal. It was just after 7 and I did not even know if Mr. McCain would come check on me or what, but in less than a MINUTE the door opened and the same man who was supposed to do my interview (had they not lost me) came out and called me in. I was marveling at how anyone knew I was there! He said Mr. McCain had just five minutes before asked him if he remembered me and gotten my file to him. This man was very sweet and nice older man who has worked most of his life for the government. Anyway, he actually had to take the staples from my application file and replace it with brackets so it could serve as a temporary file for me since my real one is forever encased in the pit of some San Francisco federal building, probably never to be rattled, except by some future earthquake (which will NOT be in Southern California—ha ha!). It occurred to me today that there could be other reasons San Francisco won’t release my file. Even federal people are finding this unusual, but I don’t necessarily. The entire story of my life, my adoption, my mom and her life and how she came to get me are so unreal that I wonder if there is something in that file that has to stay buried. That sounds extreme , but not if you know my story. Wild stuff!!!

Anyway, he did all that apologetically and congenially—saying the least they could have done was prepare the file and remove the staples. In it was my application and all the paperwork I had sent out 8 months ago, along with the new federal forms showing I had passed the fingerprinting and other clearances. Then he had to print a new form that would have been in my regular file. He said for this form I had to be under oath. So he raided his right and I raised mine and he said “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God.” Yes, ladies and gentlemen, contrary to what we often see, the name of God is still a part of the United States. All throughout the citizenship process I have discovered that the core values America professes are still there. It is encouraging. And quite frankly, if they were not I don’t think I could be petition to be a part of this nation. It would be better to remain “Stateless” than be a part of what is against God. And for those of you who don’t know, part of the issue here has been being stateless.

I was born in Bethlehem in 1969. It was a part of Israel then, yet I have been listed as being a citizen of Jordan., My mom told me I was Palestinian. Due to all this, not a nation in the world will claim me. In Israel, you must have an Israeli Identification Number, and I don’t, even though I was born there. Jordan told me years ago they could do nothing for me because I was not born there—period. They were very nice to me, but Jordan has no claim on me. Thus I was unable to get a passport. The US could issue me a Travel Document which functions similarly, but there are distinct differences. So that has been at the core of this, that being Stateless is not cool! Unfortunately governments do not consider Heavenly Citizenship worthy of granting international travel privileges.

So then this man finished my file and had to ask me all these questions he almost apologized for asking because they were no brainers—like had I ever been through deportation proceedings? Well, uh, no sir, that is WHY my file in buried away—because there had been no action on it since I was five! (I did not say that, of course; we both knew it and found it ridiculous.) He checked my date and port of entry into the US from my Green Card to my file and found they matched. I have the old Green Card. The INS issued new ones years ago and “encouraged” everyone to get these renewable ones that cost about a hundred dollars; however, the old ones never technically expired, so I kept the old one. Duh! But boy did I get a hassle in Mexico, Pre 9-11 with that so I cannot imagine now. But the man told me that on the new cards, the date of entry is often wrong—that the old ones are the most accurate. “Maybe they had more time to spend on them then,” he said.

Then it was time for my government test. It was a bit more than what I expected, but not hard by any means. I had to tell then what color the stars were on the flag, who said “Give me liberty or give me death,” who elects Congress (The people of the US, as opposed to who elects the president—the electoral college—they clearly distinguish those and will not take the people as an answer for who elects the president), what the emancipation proclamation did and who wrote “The Star Spangled Banner.”

Then came the ENGLISH TEST! Oh my.. I think he felt bad giving it to me. He handed me a sheet of paper and asked me to read the sentence on it to him. I almost could not do it because I was laughing. I mean, only the US Government would make you do that when you have a master’s degree in English. The sentence I had to read said :

He went to the post office.

Then there was the harder portion of the verbal test. I had to WRITE a sentence he spoke orally. I had to write the following sentence:

I came to Dallas today for my interview.

I resisted the urge to do what Pastor Seven joked could mess me up and make it a compound sentence by adding, “and I came last week too!” (And my pastor added tonight “and I can write more if you want” and everyone laughed because now the whole church knows about my epic emails—thanks JAN!) He probably would have liked it because he was making jokes—like he accidentally put an extension form in my file—he said, “OOPS! You don’t want that, you have already had it.” But all joking aside, that could be a challenging test for an immigrant, and I respected those who fight so hard to learn and do what they need to. He said some of them struggle to sign their names in English—that he can tell they have almost memorized it like a picture in their head. So it was neat to experience that and understand that side better. The humor is only in Miss Verbal taking a test like this. But Miss Verbal here DID have to refresh her civics skills!

I made one mistake. He gave me a form and pointed to where I was supposed to write on it. I started signing it, when he said I had to print. He said, with humor, “That is the problem with you English teachers; you actually read directions.” It said to sign, but they had people print so it was legible (good idea with me!)

I got a slip of paper saying I had passed the English and civics test and was recommended for citizenship. Then he walked me out to the guard and told the guard to let me back in at 11 for the ceremony even though I had no paperwork.

So I went smiling out of the building enjoying watching the Holy Spirit work. I mean, I literally sat there the entire time knowing that this was happening because God was doing it.

I needed a few things—and had over three hours. So I drove to a Target I like in Carrollton and picked up some stuff and then sat in my car with my laptop catching up on writing so I would not have even more to write later. One thing I purchased was a shirt off a clearance rack. They were obviously on sale before the 4th of July. This one had a neat design and the embedded lyrics of the National Anthem on it; it seemed appropriate (and it was only $4) .

I headed back to the center, aiming to be there 30 minutes early. The line was forming. But this was a happy line. This line was all the people who had cleared the interview and ready to take the oath. All of them had some sheet of paper that had been mailed to them at some point beyond their interview, informing them of when to show up for the oath. I, of course, did not have that paper. But finally a lady from INS came out and called my name. They had made one up for me, as if it had been mailed to my home, and I brought it in.

This was all happening so fast that I suddenly realized, gosh, this is the real thing. While I was at Target, I had bought a disposable camera, mostly to take pictures with my best friend and on the road trip to LA next week. Just before I got out of the car I thought, I might want pictures. I was so glad I had bought the camera! So I had it with me. We got inside and I was one of the first ones—sat in the front row. Some TV station videotaped it. In this ceremony there were only 57 of us. My name was scrawled at the bottom of the check-in sheet—they had added me and printed my certificate this very day. They listed me as being from Israel—which is accurate but all these years they said Jordan. I guess I am just a mystery. Doesn’t matter—neither country wanted me (-:

So I sat by a neat lady from Brazil, and that was nice. We talked while we waited for them to let everyone in (security is like that in airports, so it takes a while to filter everyone in). The INS lady introduced all the countries represented. It was really cool, you guys. Vietnam to Ghana, Canada to the United Kingdom—so many countries with 57 people. We all had an envelope form the White House. The President ended his form greeting “and God bless America.” Our oath of allegiance ended “so help me God.” Then after we took the oath, we were official. Next we said the Pledge of Allegiance. Then each one was individually called up for the certificates. A girl taking pictures of her friend was near me during the oath so I pointed at my camera and she got a picture of that. The lady next to me got a picture of my with my certificate. So I was really thankful I bought that $5 camera that I vacillated about purchasing!

Then it was over. We were all citizens. I have to admit I cried during the process. It is really beautiful. Despite my problems, this experience has probably been the most American thing I have done. America is supposed to be about a melding of cultures and people. It was so touching to see very old people of other nationalities, some in wheelchairs, come in dressed to the nines yet looking so feeble, all for a chance to be a part of this nation. It was really beautiful.

I ended up having to run back—I was so last minute my certificate did not get stamped—so I called the direct line to the supervisor’s office and he met me and had it signed. But even that was kind of cool that I could get a supervisor on the phone—that is NOT typical! Again I was allowed in like I was someone exceptional.

So that was the experience. From start to finish 8 months total (very short), even with them losing me! Of course the other side is that God took care of the last part. What happened in the last week is a true miracle of God. If you have ever dealt with the INS you will realize this; if you have not you will have to accept it as face value or be a cynic, but this is not an agency known for expediency. What happened to me was the Lord—and He intervened after last Wednesday night at church. This is the REST of the story.

Last Wednesday night I showed up to church positively dreary. For some reason this felt AWFUL. I think some of it was shock that I had done all this and was so close and incompetence had bumped me out of it. I was in limbo, not knowing if I would ever hear again. And now I was about to move and if I left this apartment, that was it—my case would automatically take 2-3 more years to be completed because it has to be completed in the INS district in which you live. It felt awful. I had hoped and waited—and maybe did not realize how bad I wanted it. I was confused. God seemed to have perfectly timed it so I could do it before I left, and then it all fell apart and it seemed pointless. It left me with nothing and I still could not travel outside the US—not without a lot of hassle, money and no guarantees in the current political climate. I literally spent the time between Monday and Wednesday crying on and off—and feeling cheated and really just BAD.

I had to drag myself to church. I did not show up early at all. In fact I was annoyed when I got there on time and people were still fluttering in. I did not want to talk to anyone. Yes, folks, dreary—very unlike how I respond to stuff anymore. Then Pastor Jerry began a new series that was made for me. He talked about when things happen than we see no value in. We can’t imagine HOW it could work for out good—we just see the stinky stuff, but not that that stinky stuff can be an opportunity for fertilizer. It was excellent. This summary does not do the word from God justice. And I knew it was for me. Man it got to me. He said when we see the circumstances and try to gain our own momentum, we can’t, but when we leave them to God, and entrust things to His HEADSHIP that then HE can propel things for our behalf—in whatever manner but not to focus on the STUFF but on His headship and kingship. I literally walked out of church different than I came in. I was changed. After that, I let it go. I seriously did. I could talk about it calmly again—amazing in itself because I was so upset I did not want to talk about it. And Sunday morning it was so gone that when Pastor Ray stopped me and said “It’s all a process,” to encourage me, I looked at him dumb. “What’s a process?” I asked. Then I got it. It was that far from my mind that I did not KNOW! I praised God. And I left it alone. The next day the immigration department called. If you recall my last letter when I called the national number they told me that there was not even a phone number for the Dallas office—I was disgusted with the junk. I said, yes there was; I was just there. This time the man called me and left his number, so there I was with a direct line to a supervisor at the immigration office that would not even speak to me a week ago. All I could do all day was marvel. Last week the same man told me it was not even possible to have your ceremony the same day as your interview. But when he called Monday he said they could do both today. They had found my application—it was in the Dallas Service Center—down the road pretty much!—but the file will remain in SF forever. After my interview they scrambled my stuff through three or four people who have to look at applications. It was like a little Holy Spirit assembly line!

So that was it. I think once I had the supervisor’s direct number I really knew it was real. They guard those phone number like gold. But I marveled because I sat back and watched God do it. I am not joking—I could almost SEE beyond the natural into the spiritual realm. It was so clear. I was treated like I was someone special. I was escorted to the door while the official told the guards to let me in without paperwork. For the swearing in I was pulled out of line to be handed paperwork. The lady who checked it later had to ask me if I had had any arrests or tickets since my interview. I almost laughed—uh, no, ma’am, not in the last three hours—can’t say I did any shoplifting while buying my patriotic shirt at Target!

God still moves guards aside and opens doors, folks. He moved a stagnant US Government agency for me—8 days before I leave my apartment. One you are out of the address you give, you must file a change of address, so I was 8 days shy of being majorly delayed. That is my 11th hour rescuer. My king.

Tonight at church Pastor Jerry asked me what happened and was so excited for me it made me even more excited. I am not sure everyone realizes what it means. I had been BURSTING to share this and said I had a great testimony if he had time. He said he would make time. So I got to share what God did in this and show that naturalization certificate. It was so special. And the church was so excited. They stood up and applauded the mighty work of God. I appreciated that so much. One lady commented she worked with foreign exchange students so she knew this was a miracle. I went to Shachah in Dallas when it was over and they were amazed too. Anyone who knows the INS is amazed! And I think once I explain it some people can see this was a work of God. Coming home from church, I told the Lord that it was so neat because He got all the glory but I got to bask in it! There is nothing He does that does impact us all the more. I fall more in love with Him each day.

And I said something to the church I really believe—had I not gotten that spiritual victory Wednesday night I don’t think this would have happened. God can’t have headship and move while we are acting as head. I learned a life changing lesson from this one. The thing that seemed to have the least value and seemed to be cheating me is the thing that advanced me more and drew me closer to the Lord—AND I got the blessing of the thing I sought, but with HIM leading. Now it is not just my cool story but my narrative of the might work of my awesome King.