Monday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and my visa hadn’t arrived.

Tuesday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and my visa hadn’t arrived.

Wednesday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and my visa hadn’t arrived. (They called me from the embassy, said something was wrong with my invitation letter. I sent them a new one with a few words changed.)

Thursday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and my visa hadn’t arrived.

Friday I was supposed to go to Nigeria, I walked down to the post office and they gave me my visa. I walked home and booked a flight, put the last toiletries in my hiking backpack and walked over the ice, through the snow, to the bus. 24 hours later I was in Nigeria. (I was supposed to be part of a conference that weekend, but I was too late. They had prayed though, that I would make it, even if it was just for the last prayer. And when the last amen rung out I was there. Everyone was so excited and I was the most happy.) (♥)