I had an interesting day this past Tuesday. My husband and I had an appointment with US Citizenship and Immigration Services (UNCIS). We were being interviewed by an officer who would determine if A. our relationship was bonafide and B. if my husband had a legitimate case to become a permanent resident. As we sat and waited for close to 3 hours in the pale waiting room, I kept occupied wondering about the other 100 or so people waiting next to us.

It appeared as if all 4 corners of the Earth were represented in that room. What were their stories? I watched a woman from India with her two young children and I wondered if she was there thinking of their future. There were mothers and fathers with infants. Couples like my husband Martial and I. Some people had well dressed lawyers with them and others had translators. I’m certain everyone there had a story to be told.

We all have stories. I know my husbands story and I know why we were sitting in that room. I also know that we were not solely dependent upon UNCIS to decide our life’s path fortunately. However, that didn’t keep me from being nervous while we waited and I had the stress rash on my right arm to prove it. Yet I had the comfort of speaking with the Creator while we were sitting there.

While I was in silent conversation with the Lord, I was mindful of the many others in the room. Who were they dependent upon?  Judging by the countries there were from, I thought it possible that I was waiting among Muslims, Hindu’s, Taoists, Buddhists and perhaps Atheist. For many of these people, they may have never had the opportunity to hear the good news that Jesus, the Son of God, had died and now lives for them while in their native countries. They may have been born behind borders where great restrictions are enforced, preventing Christian freedoms of sharing Jesus.  

As I sat there thinking about the sovereignty of God, I couldn’t help but wonder why some are born into oppression while others are born into freedom. No matter where these people who I sat among were from, it was clear why they were there. They were there for freedom, opportunity, civil order, peace, equality, you name it.  I sat there with these thoughts and more and I hoped and prayed that these individuals, couple and families would have an opportunity to hear about Jesus while they are in this country.

I couldn’t help but look at the US flag mounted and framed on the wall (it was larger than life) hanging there in the waiting room as I had these thoughts. It appears this country is venturing further away from its Christian roots more and more. I wish I could confidently believe that the people we were waiting among would come to know Jesus on American soil.

While I understand his political position and desire to develop peace between countries and religious parties, I was still shocked and saddened by President Obama’s comment said during his visit to Turkey a couple of week ago. “America is not a Christian nation” he said.

Those words rang through my head as I watched the multicultural room move about. There was a time when America sent out large numbers of cross-cultural servants into the ends of the earth with the purpose of sharing the love of Jesus Christ with those who had never heard. Adoriam Judson and his wife Anne were two of the first to set sail from America as such. I had the privilege of visiting the place where they sailed from in Salem, MA. Check out the picture in this blog. The guy on the seal with the crazy hair is Adoriam.

America is not like it was when Adoriam and Anne were coasting east out of the New England port. America is no longer a leading country in evangelizing the world. In fact, more and more cross-cultural servants are coming to America to evangelize. South Korea currently sends out more cross-cultural servants into the world than any other country. A vast majority of them are in the United States.

Finally, after waiting so long I swear my grey patch grew; my husband and I were called back. I’ll spare you the details of the interview but will tell you it was grueling and I’m thankful it’s over. We had to put up an unexpected fight but my husband walked out of there a permanent resident of the United States.

Today I still can’t help but think of those waiting in that sterile room to hear their status in the US. Would they stay and make a new life? Would they return to their home countries and face whatever situations motivated them to leave? Most importantly, would they have the opportunity to not only hear about Jesus but would they also have the freedom to follow him with their lives if they so wanted to? Would they become part of the “one nation under God” or in the land that no longer makes that claim?