"It's not about you. It's bigger than you."

The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. 

Psalm 145: 18

       Things are about to change here at KEMPS.  Our seventh graders will take their examinations on Wednesday and Thursday of this week.  Once they finish, they will collect all of their belongings and leave KEMPS for the last time.  Many of these students have been boarders here since they were in preschool, spending significantly more time with their teachers and dorm mothers than their own families.  For these students, they are leaving their home, and while that brings a lot of excitement, it also brings some sadness.  We had our last run with the seventh grade girls last night.  We talked about what it means to be finished with primary school and leave the place they love so much.  They talked about the things they would miss and the things they were looking forward to.  They asked to take selfies together in their running shirts, and when we returned from our run they lingered on my porch for longer than usual, asking questions and playing with the cats.  I’m going to miss these sweet girls.  Immense pressure has been put on these students to do well on their examinations.  All of them want to get into good secondary schools and receive scholarships to help their parents afford their school fees.  They pray daily for God’s guidance and assistance so that they can perform their best.  Please, if you remember, say a little prayer for them on Wednesday and Thursday.  

        When I left home back in February to begin this new job, while I was sad, there was also a lot of excitement.  I was returning to Joseph after being apart for two months, and in June we would be coming home, for the first time, together.  All of that changed not long after arriving back in Tanzania.  It’s been a rollercoaster of a year for everyone, not just us, and that’s why I often shy away from discussing our trials and tribulations.  We are not the only ones who have had to change plans and who have faced heartbreak during this time.  But we are together now.  We are so thankful to have good health and that all of our family have also remained healthy during this time, which is a miracle, really.  We try to focus on those things and give the rest to God.  But I would be lying if I said I haven’t been wrestling.  If I haven’t been so angry that I burst into tears.  If I haven’t been depressed and anxious. If I haven’t asked God “why”. 

        Six months ago we worked with an immigration attorney to file a petition for Joseph to apply for a fiancé visa.  Yes, you read that right.  We first had to apply for a petition, and then once the petition was granted, we could apply and interview for a fiancé visa.  After receiving the visa, we would have 90 days to get married, and then Joseph would have apply for a green card immediately and remain in the United States until he received it.  The petition took hours of work filling out papers, accumulating documents, letters, pictures, FaceBook, and text messages, and paying a hefty fee, all to prove that Joseph and I actually loved each other and that we weren’t running some kind of scheme to try to get him into the United States.  When we finally submitted it, our attorney said she expected we would get a response within two to three months and then we could proceed accordingly.  “The entire process usually takes around six months” she told us.  So after countless tears and choice words mumbled under our breath, we postponed our wedding to November.  We rebooked our venue and photographer.  We ordered new invitations.  And though the odds were stacked against us – COVID had just hit big time, I was in the US with no plan as to when I would return to Tanzania, and the current administration had just announced more “travel bans” which included Tanzania – we tried to remain hopeful.  

        But time kept ticking away.  Three months came and went with no word on our petition.  Emails went back and forth to the attorney, her response always being, “No word yet.  Just keep waiting”.  So we did.  Finally a couple weeks ago I started doing some more research.  I found that the US Embassy in Tanzania was not scheduling any visa interviews and they had no time frame as to when they would resume.  I also found that the expected wait time for petitions filed during our time frame was seven months.  Not two or three.  Seven.  More tears, choice words, and a call to mom later, I knew I needed to have a serious talk with God.  I was walking by myself and I decided that I was just going to say it all.  I was going to ask all of the questions and get angry and demand the answers that I so desperately needed, and in the middle of my rant I got a response; “It’s not about you.  It’s bigger than you.”  I had to stop walking for a second to make sure I heard right.  “Okay,” I said, continuing to walk “you’re answering me now? You want to talk now? I’m listening.  Give it to me.” Silence.  I tried talking some more, asking more questions, and then pausing for an answer.  But I got nothing.  Just, “It’s not about you.  It’s bigger than you.” 

        While it wasn’t the answer I was expecting at all, it surprisingly brought me some peace.  It reminded me that these circumstances are not an attack on Joseph and me.  This isn’t some kind of cruel punishment.  This is the stuff, the brokenness of this world, that we all have to go up against every day.  It’s not about me.  It’s bigger than me.  And while I sit having a pity party, albeit merited and sometimes helpful, others are in hospitals fighting for their lives.  Others have lost their fiancés and parents and children during this time.  It’s not about me.  It’s bigger than me.  Though I still get angry and sad and vent to just about anyone who will listen about how it shouldn’t be so difficult for two people who love each other to get married just because one of them was born in another country, I’m trying to remember to look outside of myself and remember that this is bigger than us.   

        Our attorney told us that she would call at the beginning of this month to check on the status of our case, so for now we continue to wait.  If we hear that it is still going to take months to get a response, we may have a legally unofficial wedding here so that our marriage will at least be official to our community (which is culturally very important here), and have a legally official, American wedding next spring or summer.  This isn’t how we want it to be.  We chose to have one wedding, and we chose to have it in the United States, for many reasons, and now, for many other reasons, all of those choices we made just seem futile.  But we continue to pray for God to make a way where there is no way, and I unabashedly ask you to please do the same. 

Mungu akubariki,

Allee

If you would like to donate towards my work in Tanzania, you can send donations electronically using: 

Venmo: @Alison-Gomulka

Cash App: $AlisonGomulka

PayPal: PayPal.Me/AlisonRGomulka

Zelle: alisonrg24@gmail.com

If you would prefer to send a check, you can mail it to:

Alison Gomulka

15601 Shady Brook Lane

College Station, TX

77845

Our last run together!