Printers, I love them almost as much as I hate them.
As I stared down at the necessary evil, I felt nothing but anger and hatred for the frustrating piece of crap. I urgently needed to print one B&W document, but it was low on coloured ink, so what did it do? Printed dirty, streaky, discoloured documents.
I was in the throes of applying for a visa to migrate to the US, a K1 Fiancé Visa to be precise. In order to have the best chance of receiving said visa, Brittany and I needed to prove our relationship was real; that our families and friends approved of us.
I looked at the time; if I hurried I’d be able to get down to the shops and buy some more ink before I was due at the Notary Public’s place with my affidavit. I grabbed my keys and wallet and stormed out the door.
It was one of three affidavits that I needed to take to a Notary Public. One from my Mum, one from my best mate, and one from me; all declaring Brittany and my relationship was real.
For those of you who live in the United States, you see the word Notary Public and think, “No biggie, would cost like, 10 bucks each.”
Well, unfortunately in Australia, Notary Publics are hard to come by. Took two days of phone calls to find a retired gentleman who lived 45 minutes away and charged $70 a form. It was going to cost me $210 to get three pieces of paper signed and stamped. No more than five minutes work – if you were a sloth.
Twenty minutes later, I returned with new ink. I quickly installed it, and hit print…
…only to be met with the same streaks! The printer head was dirty as well.
I glanced at my phone, saw the time, and sighed with frustration; I wouldn’t make it. Angrily I punched in the Notary Public’s number and waited.
“Hi,” I said. “Dan here again. Look, my printer is playing up so I won’t be able to make it this morning… This afternoon? 4pm? Yeah, I can do that. Okay, thanks. See you then.” I hung up and slumped into my computer chair. Now I’d have to drive through peak hour traffic to get there.
After a moment of cooling off I set the printer to clean itself. Five minutes later everything was working perfectly. Typical, too little too late…
When I told Brittany, she said, “Well, maybe God needed you to not go this morning.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I responded. I couldn’t see any reason why He’d postpone it.
I emailed my Mum to let her know that I’d found a Notary Public and that I was going in the afternoon. Within a few minutes she emailed back to say she could come up at the same time, so I’d have her affidavit as soon as it was signed.
Hopping back on the phone, I called the Notary Public. Again.
“Hi. My Mum has a form to get signed this afternoon too, can she come at 4pm with me? … She can? Fantasti… You’ll do both for $80? Wow, thank you! I very much appreciate it… No worries… I’ll see you at four.”
I put the phone down, my foul mood forgotten as I messaged Brittany. “So, he’s just given me a $60 discount because we’re getting both forms done at once.”
“Wow! That’s awesome,” Brittany responded. I could picture her smirking as she typed, “I won’t say ‘I told you so.’”
I laughed sheepishly. “I know, I know. You were right. I was just too angry and impatient to accept that there could be a reason things weren’t working.”
“God’s looking out for us babe. He’s seen us this far, that’s not going to change suddenly. We need to keep trusting Him.”
I sighed, regretting my poor attitude from earlier. This was just one event out of many that God had used to prove to us He was taking care of things. “I’m just thankful that even when my faith is weak He’s still faithful.”
“Yes, He is. :)”