Testimonies

Panic in Santo Domingo

Things don’t always go the way we think they should

Nelson Silva

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Panic in Santo Domingo

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Wait! Where is my passport?” Just seconds before, I had asked the 12 young adult missionaries with me to do a passport check. My passport was not where I thought it would be. I frantically looked all through my backpack, but to no avail. The 13 of us were about to board the bus that would take us to the Las Américas International Airport after a week of evangelism in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic.

“I can’t find my passport!” I announced to the group. Pastor Rondon prayed. “What can I do to help?” a team member asked. “Shall we go to the apartment and search?” someone else suggested. “Where is your luggage?” yet another missionary inquired. Soon everyone was busy searching for my passport.

Minutes later the group reconvened. The reports came in: “It’s not in the apartment,” Pastor Rondon texted. “Delta Airlines is not answering,” another missionary blurted. “You have to go to the American embassy,” one more suggestion came in.

“I know someone who works at the American embassy,” Ms. Rebecca unexpectedly interjected. “He is on the phone with me.” She paused as she listened to the person on the other end of the line. “He said that today is Juneteenth, so the American embassy is closed.”

To the Airport

“When was the last time you saw the passport?” That was a good question! When was the last time I saw my passport? I typically kept it in the inner pocket of my traveling sweater, which I hadn’t needed in 90-degree humid Santo Domingo. So where was my sweater?

There was no time to waste. Perhaps my sweater was at the airport. Our best shot was to get to the airport early to look for it. Off we went in separate vehicles; Ms. Rebecca was still lost in a phone conversation, while her husband, Pastor Rondon, engaged the bus driver in a loud and enthusiastic brainstorming discussion. Everyone had an opinion on what to do next!

Ms. Rebecca handed me the phone to speak with the American embassy representative. The polite and helpful agent took my information and scheduled an embassy appointment for the following day. Then Ms. Rebecca remembered that she knew someone who worked at the airport. She called him and had him search for the missing sweater. He called back a few minutes later: “I am so sorry,” he said. “No one has found the sweater.”

As the chances of finding the sweater grew slim, my family at home was praying, my conference family was praying, and everyone in Santo Domingo who knew about the situation was praying.

That miracle didn’t happen for me.

Pastor Rondon, hoping to encourage my faith, told me a story. “Years ago,” he said, “a woman from New York visited Santo Domingo. She lost her passport and, like you, realized it minutes before heading to the airport. Armed with faith, she went to the airport. Before approaching the ticket counter, she gathered all the strangers around her and prayed. When she finished praying, someone approached her with her passport! A miracle indeed!”

Well, that miracle didn’t happen for me. Neither the sweater nor the passport was found. I hugged the group goodbye and then headed back to the conference office with the Rondons.

My Story

Sister White says that “our heavenly Father has a thousand ways to provide for us, of which we know nothing.”* During the week of evangelism, I had shared that knowing God is everything (see John 17:3). I had also shared that God is indescribable, powerful, present, and loving. Therefore, we can trust Him. He knows the end from the beginning and has our best interest in mind, always. It was time to practice what I had preached. 

I wish I could tell you that things got resolved quickly and drama-free, but that would be far from the truth. The next day the American embassy was closed for an administrative day; I almost lost $300 to a telephone scammer who promised to help; and I missed attending a very important meeting at work. Worse yet, the following day was my twentieth wedding anniversary. I had to make it back home!

On the day of my embassy appointment, I was up and ready to head out before 6:00 a.m., but Pastor Rondon was running late. “Leave the luggage behind,” he texted me, and showed up in an Uber. This is not a good sign, I thought.

The traffic was unusually intense. Making my 7:00 a.m. appointment wasn’t looking too promising. When I arrived at the American embassy, the guard asked me for a printed copy of my appointment. “Sir,” I answered hesitantly, “I was told that my name would be written on the paper. Can you check?”  Finally he let me inside the building—he had found my name! But there were at least 20 people ahead of me.

When my name was finally called, the friendly consul, after asking me several questions, noticed the Seventh-day Adventist Church logo on my shirt. “Are you a missionary?” he inquired.

“Yes, sir. I am.”

“We usually issue the emergency passports at 2:00 p.m.,” he continued. “When are you flying back home?” I told him I was hoping to catch the 3:00 p.m. flight to Atlanta that afternoon. “I’ll see what we can do,” he responded as he left the window in a hurry. I prayed hard! Lord, please, help! “Mr. Silva,” the consul exclaimed when he returned, “I was able to speed up your emergency passport! Just wait 20 minutes or so, and you’ll be on your way.”

I was thrilled to receive the good news after three days of disappointments! The Rondon family had been exceptionally helpful and incredibly hospitable, but I didn’t want to impose on them one more day. Besides, my wife was waiting at home! Would I get a boarding pass barely three hours before the flight?

Thankfully, the Delta clerk was particularly helpful. After many failed attempts to find a flight, she finally concluded, “I can get you to Atlanta at no additional cost, but I can’t guarantee you’ll make it to Nashville tonight. All the flights are full.”

“No problem,” I cheerfully declared. “Get me to Atlanta, and I’ll figure out the rest.”

God got me home in time for my twentieth wedding anniversary. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways” (Isa. 55:8, NIV). I experienced God, on that trip, in ways that I did not anticipate.


* Ellen G. White, The Desire of Ages (Mountain View, Calif.: Pacific Press Pub. Assn., 1898, 1940), p. 330.

Nelson Silva

Nelson Silva, D.Min., is associate youth director for the Kentucky-Tennessee Conference.

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