I Demand to See the Ambassador Story
I DEMAND TO SEE THE AMBASSADOR - read the sign written in beautiful Mkhedruli alphabet, the ancient characters of the Georgian language are delectable and readable to only around 4 million people worldwide. I deciphered the message in less than the 5 steps it took me to walk past it, thanks, in part, to my remarkable ability to read the English translation below it. The man and his two companions held the sign near the impenetrable US Embassy. My usual curiosity compels me to engage them. What serious issue requires such a demand? My 10 minutes remaining lunch break prevents me from satisfying my inquisitive nature.
I wish people would stop and think about persuasive communication for a bit. Your wife surely loves you, right? How would it go if next time you need to talk about something important you begin with: Wife, I demand you listen to me! Wouldnât, please give me a minute dear, be far more conducive?Â
I enter my dadâs office as I would any other room at home. I announce myself and greet everyone with a hello and a smile. Then quietly sit down and wait on him. I get pacy then sleepy from waiting. My ass hurts after 45 minutes on the darn wooden bench, which, I'm convinced, dad chose brilliantly for the purpose of shortening meetings. I donât mind waiting. My father is an important man with 900 people under his management. Well, he and the group of cousins. Not anyone has access to my dad. Had it been our trustworthy Olivio, it would have taken him a 5-hour trip to see him and probably an additional four waiting on him to go back feeling very grateful and accomplished in securing some medical treatment favor. I, on the other hand, have access to dad and I am his top priority.
I met the Ambassador the day before. I didnât recognize her. She was so friendly and interested in me that I felt okay to casually sit by her and chat. The exchange was so delightful that I wanted to remember her name, so I asked someone nearby. Thatâs when I realized that I had spoken to someone powerful and important.Â
I hear President Biden may go down in history as one of Americaâs great presidents. The complaints against him are rather of being far too personable and treating strangers like dear friends: He spoke too close to me, put his arms on my shoulders, kissed my forehead-type of grievances. I can easily imagine talking about my kids with him as I did with my honorable Ambassador. But this, I will not have the chance to. Biden is an important man. And while I have no doubt he would show interest in our chat, he has a crushing weight of responsibilities to attend to and not enough lifetimes to deal with them.
Pondering about access to powerful people I came to think about the Creator whom I affectionately call Heavenly Father. How many times have I demanded action from Him? He didnât smack me for my impertinence as my own dad would have. At most, He ignored me a bit. Would it not be more favorable for me to try to be a little more persuasive? To humbly ask for an audience that I donât deserve based on my bargaining power or merit and show some gratitude for it?Â
Then I thought about my friend George, whom I had the pleasure of seeing recently after a couple of years. George says he no longer believes in God. It made me a bit sad. I doubt my sign holder thought about preparing a manifesto or communique to deliver to the Embassy. They would have taken it. Iâm pleased my sign holder believes the Ambassador exists and has the power to do something about his situation. Whether my friend George believes in God or not, God can do something about his needs. Whether George notices it, or not, God is pulling strings to his benefit. Yet some people tend to find favor among men. Theyâve figured something out. And a further yet, there are a few people that seem to find high levels of favor with God. It would be good for us to figure this one out.
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