When we returned to the Allaja Project, we were eager to start the process of registering a non-governmental organization (NGO). This would give us a valid reason to be in the country and enable us to apply for residency. It would also open doors to outreach.

When political unrest forced us to leave the Allaja Project two years ago, the refugee population was over a million. Now it was just over 700,000. Many refugees have returned to their home countries, and some were able to settle in other countries. The refugees that remain here have integrated more into the society, and we were happy to see fewer children on street corners begging for money. Of course, our outreach dynamic has also changed dramatically. Previously, we were able to help local refugees with food packages. But now larger aid organizations are active here, and food aid is distributed on a much larger scale. Smaller aid offerings are no longer wanted, so our ministry must adapt to current needs.

We took our NGO paperwork to Hamad, a local legal translator who has become our friend. Hamad speaks very good English, and we were able to explain what we needed. He is familiar with these kinds of documents because of his work with other NGOs in the city. Many of these NGOs are run by local people. They get educated elsewhere but then return because of their family ties, often starting an NGO. These people can usually speak three or more languages and have a lot to offer to the community. They have a burden to help their people, and it is truly inspiring to see the impact they make.

When all the papers were translated and stamped, we gave them to Byar, the young man who would help us through the application process. He is a gift from God to us, introduced to us as a friend of a friend. It is almost impossible to do anything in this country if you don’t know the right people.

“Congratulations on registering the NGO!” Byar exclaimed when he called us two weeks later. We were elated and couldn’t believe that we had the registration papers in hand. However, our excitement soon cooled when we realized that these papers were worthless without permission from a number of key dignitaries.

The next several months consisted of meeting after meeting in one office after another, answering the same questions. “Why are you in the country, and what do you plan to do?” Some meetings lasted a few minutes; others took much longer.

Our meeting with a high-ranking police official was particularly interesting. A medium-built man with an oversized black mustache, he sat behind a wide office desk. We sat in some fancy chairs that lined the perimeter of the room. A large television dominated the wall opposite the official’s desk, blaring the local news. We sat quietly with Byar as the official scanned through our papers. The local newscast sounded more foreign than ever as we waited in tense silence. Every now and then, the official would make a notation in the book in front of him. We stared at the television, trying to calm our nerves.

After about half an hour of reading through our documents, the man turned his gaze to the TV and watched placidly for some minutes. Finally, after our third cup of tea, he began asking questions, which Byar interpreted for us. “How long have you been in the country?” His scratchy voice echoed across the desk. “What are you doing here? How do you plan to serve the community? Who is working with you?” After each question, he waited and watched the news while Byar interpreted the question and then our reply. He kept on asking us question after question, all the time watching the news. He also spoke with Byar.

Suddenly, he slammed our file closed and stood, looking at us directly. “Thank you for coming to my country. I hope that your project will be a great success.” We left the room greatly relieved.

On the way out, Byar explained that the officer had wanted a policeman to work with us daily for three months. But Byar assured the officer that he would take full responsibility for us, and that he would work with us and report our activities directly to the officer. We were glad to be able to work with Byar instead of a police officer.

We still had to be interviewed by other important people and get special permission from the governor, too. During this process, Byar received tragic news that his father had stage-four brain cancer. Two weeks later, his father died. It was a great shock. As an only child, Byar now has to look after his mother.

Despite the turmoil in his life, Byar pushed on, and soon we were approved to receive our stamp. In this country, every company and NGO must have an official stamp with which to seal official paperwork. It is very important. At the stamp office, we presented the stamp man with the logo and information that was to appear on our stamp. He said that we could collect the stamp the next day. But when we returned the next day to pay and pick up the stamp, he said that the logo file had been of too poor quality. Praise God, we had the logo file on our phone and were able to give it to him immediately. One hour later we walked out of the office with our precious stamp!

We praise God for leading us through this 10-month maze of red tape. It is vitally important to have a registered NGO in this country in order to do anything. God taught us many lessons during these ten months. We learned to trust Him entirely and wait patiently on Him. We often prayed for wisdom to answer questions correctly. We frequently felt tempted to despair when it seemed that we would not get the permissions we needed. Through it all, God showed us that all things are possible for Him. We will be monitored closely for at least the next three months, but we trust that God will also help us through this. The enemy does not want us to be successful, but God has already won the war.

Please continue to pray for the people of Mesopotamia. Ask God to speak to their hearts and open their minds. We are truly living in end times, and we have the end-time message. Through adversity, He is preparing our hearts, your heart, and hearts here in Mesopotamia to receive His stamp.

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