Biometrics are DONE!

Last Monday (April 23rd), Josh saw that we had a piece of mail from Homeland Security, so we both assumed due to the timing that it was our Biometrics appointment notice.  I even posted about it asking for prayers.  But when he got home and we actually opened the envelope, it was just a letter saying they received all of our paperwork and payment and to wait on the biometrics appointment notice.  Such a bummer.

However, our actual biometrics appointment letter did end up arriving on Friday!  They had scheduled us for a day next week when Josh will be out of town.  Thankfully, our appointment location has walk-in hours, so we went today and had our fingerprints done (again).  It was super quick, and everyone was very kind.  We were in and out in probably 15 minutes.

So what’s next?  Well, I called the National Benefits Center to tell our caseworker that we went ahead and did the fingerprinting ahead of schedule, but it turns out — we don’t have a caseworker yet.  HA!  So the person I spoke to was very kind and made a note that we had completed biometrics so that it would be in our file whenever we are assigned a caseworker.

From here, someone at the NBC will review all of the things we submitted to them earlier this month.  They will either approve us and mail a letter to that end, or they will request more information.  This can take 2 weeks – 2 months, and we really have no way of knowing until the letter arrives.

We’ve been trying to get everything squared away in case there’s an EP submission opportunity in May.  All indicators point to that happening in early May, so that’s pretty much off the table for us.  But IF we are approved quickly (2 weeks) and they don’t submit until closer to the end of May, there’s a chance we could make this round.  It’s a small chance, but it’s a chance.

As usual, God was in the details today.  We weren’t sure what time walk-ins were accepted, so we drove down to the office this morning.  We arrived and were told they don’t accept walk-ins until early afternoon.

Josh got me a massage for Mother’s Day last year, which expires in a couple of weeks, so I made an appointment a few weeks ago to use it today at noon.  I figured it would be great after the half marathon I ran this weekend.  However, it now meant I wouldn’t make it down to the office again until 1:45-2pm.  I went to the appointment planning to ask her to just do a shorter massage, secretly wishing I could cancel without being rude.  I waited 10 minutes before the masseuse came out and said she had someone on her table that she thought was me, but it wasn’t, and she just realized she double booked.  I’m probably the first double-booked client to ever break into a big grin and say, “That’s no problem at all!  Let’s just do this another day!”

So I hopped in the car to head back to the biometrics office.  I hit shuffle on my race-day playlist, and the first words to play were, “I feel it in my bones; you’re about to move.”  They’re the lyrics to a Bethel song.

“I feel it in my bones” is the language I keep coming back to with Sam.  In the post I wrote sharing how we were led to him, I said that Wednesday night before we were matched, I could feel it in my bones he was my son.  A couple of weeks ago, I listened to a podcast interview with an adoptive mom from Ghana.  When she saw the children she would one day adopt, she used the same phrase I did — she could feel it in her bones.  A week before that, I was reading the book Interrupted by Jen Hatmaker and highlighted this Martin Luther King, Jr. quote she referenced, “Somehow the preacher must have a kind of fire shut up in his bones and whenever injustice is around he must tell it.”

I cried and prayed and worshipped the whole way to the appointment this afternoon, playing that Bethel song on repeat.  Feeling it in my bones that God is moving for Sam.  He’s making things happen.  Whether the miracle happens or not, he is good.  But I believe wholeheartedly that he hears our prayers and he’s capable of moving these mountains.  So we’re praying hard and asking big things, things only he can do.  We would love it if you would pray with us.

We’re coming for you, baby boy.  I can feel it in my bones.

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