Unexpected Miracle

(LONG POST ALERT. You have been warned.)

The past month of my life has been filled with the lowest lows and the highest highs I've ever encountered. It's all left me in a state of emotional vertigo, and I keep waiting for something else to happen. Life, for whatever reason, is not staying still right now. Things keep changing. Sometimes for the worse, sometimes not.

Not a whole lot of people know this, but last month, I actually found out that I didn't get into the nursing program at BYU-Idaho. I had been planning to start the program in January of 2018. My mind was on things like buying those beautiful royal blue scrubs and a hot pink stethoscope and plain white tennis shoes and getting CPR certified and going to clinicals, so I didn't really stop and take time to consider that I might not get in. Members of the nursing department staff had told me I was one of the more competitive applicants and that my chances of getting in were exceptionally high. I also scored very high on my HESI (an entrance exam). I graduated high school at 16. I have 3 years of hospital volunteer experience under my belt. Of course I would get in.

But I didn't. 

And it didn't make any sense at all. Not to me, not to my loved ones. It left me in such a state of shock, confusion, and anger. I was so angry. How could this be happening to me? Of all people? I've wanted this forever. I'm not like other people who go back and forth between majors and don't really know what it is they want; I have always wanted to be a nurse. In elementary school, I would always gravitate towards the nurses on career day. I always wanted to play doctor as a kid, never anything else. A&P was the class I loved the most in college. Everything about me, down to the atoms and cells that make up my DNA, says I was born to be a nurse, to be like my heroes. Ask anyone who knows me.

I emailed every high-up person I could think of. I emailed the nursing department chair, the nursing receptionist, the Dean of Students, the Dean of Agriculture and Life Sciences, the nursing counselor - everyone. For the most part, they all told me the same thing: sorry you didn't get in, but there's nothing we can to do to help you. It was devastating. It felt like BYU-Idaho, this school I had fallen in love with and become so loyal towards, had broken up with me, like I was no longer wanted. Every time I went to class felt like a slap in the face. I didn't want to be in Rexburg any longer; it was just a reminder of what I was losing. I stopped wearing my BYU-I shirts. I stopped going to devo on campus. I stopped trying to make friends. What was the point?

Because BYU-Idaho wouldn't let me apply again, I had to come up with some sort of plan B, something I had not prepared myself for. I had, as no one ever should, placed all my apples in one basket. I did not want to go home. The idea of going home to Texas felt like going backwards in life. It felt like I would just be reverting. Everything about it felt so unbelievably wrong. I was angry because I thought God wanted me to attend BYU-I. I thought it was where I was supposed to be. I thought it was divinely appointed. I was happy to live so close to my sister Ali and to be close to my friends. I thought becoming a nurse was a worthy goal that God would help me achieve. 

I found out I was 6th on the waiting list for the program, but I was smart enough to know that didn't mean anything. I would only get in if six people decided to give up their spots. Why in the world would six perfectly-qualified people drop out of the program? One was possible. Maybe two. But not six. In one email to the Dean of Agriculture and Life Science, I was told that the program would double check to see if they could allow more applicants in the program. I was also told that it was "unlikely," and to plan otherwise. 

So I did. I finally accepted that I was going to move home. My mom bought a one-way ticket, and I gave a lot of my things away. My friends would go off to school without me after the holidays, and I would stay in Texas forever. I would probably go to TCC. I thought about returning to my "hat and apron" job at Cinemark, the one I first attained at age sixteen, but I just . . . I couldn't. I couldn't do it. I had said my final goodbyes to that place. My time there was over. If I had to move back home, I was going to change a few things. I was going to get a new job. I was going to get a cat. I was going to paint my bedroom and buy myself a big desk for my writing. I had even planned a European trip with my cousins! This is how set-in-stone my situation was! It was final, it was decided upon, and even an optimist such as myself had to let go of my BYU-Idaho dream and move on. 

It's usually when I let go that God says, "Oh, just kidding."

I was going through my inbox when I noticed an email with the subject: "Congratulations!" It was from Rod Sanders - the Rod Sanders. You know, the one who runs the nursing program, the one I've corresponded with multiple times only to be told it's never going to happen. And then he emailed to tell me, oh snap, it's happening. I couldn't really comprehend it at first. I had endured a solid month of sadness and moping and not wanting to tell anybody because I was so ashamed. I had to rewrite my life plans. And I did. And I was okay with it all finally. 

It turns out that the dean really had done what he had said he would: he had double-checked to see if they could expand the program (because I had asked him to), and they could. By fourteen spots. So, myself along with thirteen others are able to start the nursing program in January after all. Whaaaaaat? Is this real? What? I literally asked my friend to pinch me. I couldn't be sure of my own consciousness. This, this, this, this just couldn't be happening. I was smart enough to never let myself hope for it. It would just hurt me if I hoped. But it's definitely happening? I'm not imagining it? 

It took me a few days before I even posted about it on social media. I wanted to make sure it was real and not some mistake. I was, and still am, paranoid that they're going to take it all back. Even posting this blog feels like a gamble . . . Knock on wood. Salt over the shoulder. Four-leaf clovers. Maybe then it can still be real.

I took the picture below after finding out I didn't get in, and then crying for a solid hour. I took it so I could always remember that incredibly low point. I wanted to look back at this picture when life was sunnier and a million times better. I just didn't know that day would come so soon.

This whole time I thought God had forsaken me. But He hadn't. He was always there. Even if I hadn't gotten back into the program, He still would have been there. The moral isn't God is only there for you when things go well in your life. It's just . . . I was so angry with Him. I was angry and I didn't want to hear any frilly quotes or advice. But I have been so humbled. Even though I was angry and ugly and hateful towards God . . . He still showed me love. He showed me mercy. He gave me what I so desperately wanted. He heard my prayers and He knows my desires. He cares about what I care about. And I know that now. I know that God is always on our side, regardless of whether or not things work out. 

             

Quick Thought

~~~Moroni: 10: 4: "And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost."

The other day, I was taking a highly-anticipated, extremely nerve-wracking pathophysiology exam. I haven't been that scared to take a test in a really long time. I said a prayer before and many times during the test. I just felt so overwhelmed, and there were times I fretted I would forget what I had studied. 

I carefully read over every single question and asked in my head, What do you think, Heavenly Father? It was a genuine question I asked. My mind and heart were both open to any answer, whatever it was. I was willing and accepting. And then, it hit me. 

I should be asking that question every day, about the bigger, more important things in life. Forget the test. I am such a stubborn person. Often times, when trying to make a decision, I rely on logic instead of God's counsel. I need to start asking His opinion more, but not just that - I need to start relying on His opinion more. In truth, it's not even an opinion. The word 'opinion' suggests it could be right or wrong, but God's opinion is purely, 100%, eternally correct. 

And you know what? I trust Him. 

The 'F' Word & What Not to Say

Let's talk about something that makes people extra uncomfortable, shall we? The 'F' word. Yes, I said it. The 'F' word. Fat.

I think, for a lot of people, being fat is the worst thing that could ever happen to a person. I mean, in today's society, fat means unattractive. It means lazy. It means ignorant. Who wants to be something that symbolizes all of that?

No one.

I used to hate being this way. Fat, I mean. (And in a lot of ways, I still do of course. It's not exactly fun.) I thought I was unattractive and lazy and ignorant because of that number on the scale. I didn't look like my itty-bitty friends. I didn't look as good in the outfits the models in the pictures wore. Aren't teenage girls supposed to blossom? Aren't we supposed to look like our beautiful mothers did when they were our age?

It took a long time before I started to feel comfortable in my own skin, before I started to feel remotely beautiful. I like who I am now. I like my eyes. I like my beefy calves. I like my hair. I like my high cheekbones (thanks, Grandma). I am at a place where I feel comfortable enough to post about this, something I wouldn't have dreamed of a year ago. This is an unbelievably sensitive topic for me, but I would like to piece together a list of what not to say to a fat person.

WHAT NOT TO SAY TO A FAT PERSON

• "You're not fat!" *Insert eye roll here.* Good grief, I understand your need to be kind or to avoid whatever awkwardness the 'F' word brings you, but come on. Of course I am! I mean, you can sugarcoat it with whatever phrase you want--chubby, curvy, plus-size--but it still means the same thing. And it's a fact, not something I take offense at. It is what it is. You're the only one who's awkward about it.
• "Well, why don't you just buck up, hit the gym, and lose the weight?" Never, ever ask someone this. Ever. It's Basic Humanity 101. You never know what someone is going through. You wouldn't go up to someone with a cast on their arm and chastise them about not drinking enough milk to strengthen their bones, would you? Of course not! Some of us, like myself, actually have syndromes that make losing weight a million times harder than the average person. Beyond that, though, what a lot of people who are naturally skinny don't realize is, being fat is every bit as much of an emotional battle as it is a physical one. Some of us have had a lot of emotional trauma and pain that only food can ease. Food really is like a friend, as odd as that may sound. For some people, it's cigarettes. For others, it's alcohol. But for us, it's food. 
• "You would be so pretty if you lost weight!" Excuse me? Am I not pretty now? How terrible is it that, in order to be considered truly pretty, you have to have a thin body? When did that become a thing?
• "You're so brave to wear that outfit." Oh, you mean this sleeveless turtle neck I got from Cato's? Oh. I didn't think twice about wearing it actually. I just threw it on. But you definitely thought twice about it. Fat people can't show their arms? What? Another time, I was regarded as brave for not wearing a shirt over my swimsuit. What in the world?!
• "Boys won't date you if you're fat." There is a sliver of truth to this, I will admit. I don't get nearly as much attention as my itty-bitty friends do, which can be discouraging at times, but that doesn't mean no one would ever date me! Good grief. I've dated people as a fat person, thank you very much.
• "I just really hate fat people." Grr, this one really gets under my skin. Once I was at work, and one of my coworkers (who happens to be a body-builder) decided to go on an anti-fat people tangent. It was just him and me. He was saying this. To me. He was going on and on about how disgusting and lazy they (we) are. Can I just say how much I hate blanket statements?! It is literally impossible to judge an entire group based off a small portion of them. You don't hear me saying how much I hate skinny people because of how effortless it is for them to maintain the weight I would kill for. Some people work hard to be that weight, and like I said, you never know what people are going through.
• "Have you heard of this new diet? I heard it works wonders!" I understand you mean well, which is why I wouldn't be rude to you, but can I just say: ughhhhhh. I'm pretty sure you're not an MD, but even if you just so happen to be one--I didn't ask you! You don't see me walking up to my underweight friends and coercing them to start a high-protein diet, do you?
• "You aren't healthy if you're fat." This is so, so not true. I mean, I'm not speaking for the people who honestly do sit on a couch all day and pig out on McDonald's. I'm speaking for the majority of us who try diet after diet, who do work out and live a relatively active lifestyle, who try so hard to be skinny like you. My best friend is a bigger girl just like me, and she can do the splits. Can you? She is also vegetarian. Are you?
• "Ugh, I feel so fat." If you're wonderfully slim and you say this to me, I just might hurt you. Love. Your. Body. Be grateful for the body I would kill for! 
• "Forget JC Penney. You should check out Lane Bryant!" Lane Bryant is an awesome plus-size store, but that doesn't mean I should only shop at places of the like! Good grief. I'm not waddling around at 400 lbs., you know. I can still shop at regular places.

Okay, I've said what I needed to say. Remember, fat people are people, too, and you never know what somebody is going through. Everyone is beautiful in their own way. Skinny, fat, or somewhere in between. Show kindness before you judge.