Wir fahren auf Deutschland... oder?

As many of you know or don't know, I am traveling (with my roommate) to Germany for the European Singles Conference. Yay, right?! Well, at first I was all like, "Yay! We're going to Germany! We already have our tickets! So much fun! Yay! Let me get a CD from the library to brush up on my German! Yay!" Please read that in a sarcastic cheerleader voice, because that's the way I intend it to be read/heard. Well, in case you've never traveled abroad or have lived under a rock for most of your life, you need a little thing called a passport to travel anywhere outside of your native country (and back into your native country if you somehow managed to get out of the country without one... but then again if you got out undetected, you can get back in, right?) ANYWAY, these suckers are like a trip to SeaWorld, except you're the dolphin not the spectator. These hoops they have you jump through is ridiculous! Let me take you on my journey. I'm going to do it bullet style... mostly because I'm no good at deciding where to start and stop paragraphs. That and bullets are just easier organizationally speaking.

• It's the first day that I had planned to get my passport and the first thing I find out is that not all of my checks have gone through and I don't have enough money. At this point I have plenty of time to order my passport and get it in time.
• I still made the trip by the post office to see if my birth certificate is the right one and to get the forms to fill out.
• It's pretty much a month later (now, today) and I'm headed on this journey again. This time I have the money and the forms and everything else.
• I go by CVS to get my pictures done. IT'S $10 TO GET YOUR PASSPORT PHOTO THERE. Excuse me, but when did it start costing $10 to print a picture?!
• I'm like, "Okay, that's a bit steep but I'm already here." Next step, the post office. So I get up to the counter and I have all of my stuff and I'm all ready to go and I'm feeling a bit chipper. Well, come to find out the original guy that told me my birth certificate was okay was WRONG. Let me start a new bullet list so you can follow my process:
• My birth certificate is the wrong one. I have to have the big one with my parents' names on them. So, that's more $$ that I have to spend.
• My license has to be for NC. I still haven't changed it over. I know, I know I'm really late on that. But that's more $$ out of my poor little pocket.
• So, I have to wait for all of this to get to me before I can head back to the post office and get everything sent off.
• I'm headed out October 10 to Germany. That's LESS than 2 months away. So, guess who gets to pay for express service? This girl, that's who. Also, please add $60 to my tally at this point.

At this point I'm not really frustrated. I'm just at the point where I want to cry and I'm mad, extremely mad, at Satan. Opposition, opposition, opposition. So, what did I do? Well, I had a coupon for free coffee at Port City Java and it was for the one 2 blocks from the post office, so I went there. I paid the difference for ice coffee because it's August and hot coffee is ridiculously out of the question. I sat down and I opened my Bible. It's the first time in a long time that I turned to scripture to help me face something. I had to turn to my favorite book, James. I LOVE this book to pieces. So much so that it's the most colorful book in my Bible -- boxes and underlines and highlights everywhere. Of course, I read the first chapter about trials and temptations.

Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial,

because when he has stood the test,

he will receive the crown of life

that God has promised to those who love him.

James 1:12

I love it. I love it. I love it. I'm still going to Germany. Yeah, I'm going to have to pay more out of my pocket, but my reward in the end is going to be so much greater and so much more worth it. God has something absolutely AMAZING planned for Katie and I in Germany. I just know it. I can feel it in my bones.

And now, because she's just so darn cute, Panini:

Love,

Elizabeth