God answers our prayers

Early this morning, I went with my dad down to the Brazil Federal Police Department to renew my tourist visa.  When my family moved down to Brazil, we knew that, due to school, I would only be spending a few months a year here, and we didn't bother getting me a temporary or permanent visa.  Which means that while my family is all legal and happy, I'm only allowed to be in the country for 90 days at a time.

This whole 90 days thing usually isn't a problem...except for now.  I'm waiting to go to Honduras on an eighteen month mission for my church at the end of October, and I've been in Brazil since July.  Sparing some details, what I thought would be a rather simple and stress-free day ended up being quite the opposite.  Turns out that standing by and helplessly listening to your dad talk/argue with a bunch of scary Brazilian government officials in a language you barely understand is pretty stressful.

What worried me most, however, was how completely useless I was.  I couldn't say a word to communicate with the officials or help my case because I don't speak Portuguese.  I had to completely rely on my dad to advocate for me which was super nerve-racking and probably gave me heartburn.

Though I couldn't do anything to outwardly help my situation, I knew that there was something I could do: I could pray.  From the moment I woke up this morning to the moment my dad and I walked out the doors of that scary building, I was praying.  I prayed that we would know what to do, that someone would help us, and, when all seemed lost, I simply prayed for comfort and strength to make it through the day.

After many confusing hours, someone finally came to our aid: a tall, friendly man dressed in a suit.  He told me to relax, said my passport was okay (Yup, the Brazilians took my passport: SCARY), and got me to the front of the line to get fingerprinted.  While I was waiting in line, the nerves and stress came rushing back, and I unsuccessfully tried to hold back tears.  But then I looked up, and, to my amazement, saw a group of sister missionaries from my church sitting right across from me and my dad.  We went over to talk to them and told them that I was getting ready to serve a mission.  They were so happy for me, and they each gave me a big hug.  Their sweet spirits and kind, comforting words brought tears of relief to my eyes.  After talking to them for a while, the sisters told me they had seen me crying and had been thinking about coming over to share a short gospel message with me; little did they know that I was already a member of their church! 

But the amazing coincidences didn't stop there.  The man that helped us earlier came over while we were talking to the sister missionaries.  It turns out that he was Mormon as well!  We also found out that he had helped us despite the fact that he didn't even work at the Federal Police Department.  What a miracle.

I know that that man and those sister missionaries were an answer to my prayers.  My Heavenly Father knew what I needed today, and because I prayed for his help, he was able to answer me.  He answered my prayers through people around me who gave me the comfort and strength that I so desperately needed.

I know that our Heavenly Father hears our prayers, and I know that he answers every single one.  Sometimes his answers don't come the way we expect them to, but his answers will always come.