So, on Tuesday, I feel positive about Peter's visa. When I call him, however, as I do every night, all he wants to talk about is plans B and C, our backup plans in case his visa is denied or delayed. ("B" stands for "Plan Bad" and "C" stands for "Plan Cruel and Unusual.") At 1:00 am I am lying awake thinking, "What are we going to DO?!"
In the morning on Wednesday, all is bleak. I can neither confirm nor deny the consumption of too much ice cream that afternoon. I call him that night and he's all cheerful. I, determined to be grumpy, deflect as much as possible his attempts to make me laugh. Finally I ask, "Why are you so happy?"
"I had a dream."
"What did you dream about?"
He dreamed he got his visa. His sense of the thing when he woke up was not that he was guaranteed to get a visa, but that God wanted Peter to know that He was in control, and everything would be ok one way or another.
My response to this loving message: "Why didn't you tell me that sooner?!"
So today I feel much better. God is going to take care of us. In spite of interludes of doubt, I just have had this overriding feeling that he's going to get the visa on Sunday. I don't know if that's wishful thinking, or my own message from God. So, Peter is not sure he's going to get it, but he is sure that God is in control. I also know God is in control, but I have this difficult-to-squelch positivity that this is going to be the one part of the process that goes smoothly. We're due. He dreamed about getting the visa, you know. That's key. Of course, he did dream that they gave it to him printed on a sheet of paper shaped like a monkey. But I think we can let that part go.