I suppose it started with my financial aid package coming up extremely short this year. About mid-June. I knew tuition and other things would rise... but I didn't know how much. and I didn't know how much the state would give me.

The thing about my situation, as I explained to many, many (oh, God, I have no idea how many) people is that the aid labeled "Additional Loan Eligibility", where all the other nice children get their nice parents to sign nice co-signer names with nice banks or else sign their own nice name with their nice credit , was not available to me.

1) My nice parents have three children older than me who, due to different circumstances, weren't able to make payments on their own loans on time.

2) I don't have. A credit score. Much less a credit card.

Thus, worry ensued.

I decided pretty early on that there was no way God would have taught me everything he taught me during my first year only to drop me. And decided that I was following what I loved and knew where I was going.

Explaining this to my mother was a different story.

Enter several fights, enter being called into her room and told all of the reasons why I couldn't go back, enter calling my aunt and believing for some time that I would be living with her this semester to cut down on the costs...

... and enter the idea of walking on water. Because even though I didn't know how I was going to get back, I still had to act as if I was going back and do all the things that needed to be done this summer for this semester. So I made sure that Frog Day, the event I've been planning over the past year, moved further along. And I e-mailed professors early on and got book lists so that I could read the books ahead of time and be on top of things -- especially if I ended up needing to work.

I am extremely grateful for Kwame, by the way. Who is an amazing friend. And listener. And, consequently, teacher. And who stayed up into wee hours of the night.

And to Ghadzoox. For being there as well. And basically everyone on Avanoo who had some inkling of what was going on.

It meant/means a lot to me.

The summer was accentuated by phone calls to the University. Where I was told one thing. And then another. And then that I'd have to wait. And all the while I was getting closer to... well, this coming Monday, August 25.

I was trying everything. Figuring out food costs. Figuring out transportation, if it came to living with my aunt. Figuring out left over costs that I'd have to work for. And hoping... that somehow, my financial aid package would be updated.

Last Thursday, my financial aid advisor assured me that she had resubmitted my financial package to the director of scholarships and financial aid.

"You should have an answer by Wednesday or Thursday," she promised. And I sighed. Because I've been strung along all summer. Waiting. And wondered when the waiting would be over. Because it was getting ridiculously close, and I still had no answers, and on top of that, I had just found out that due to unfortunate circumstances I wouldn't be able to stay with my aunt this semester. Yeah. Things were that ridiculously.. it meant that now I really had to stay on campus. And have the campus food plan. Meaning that I couldn't cut costs anywhere.

...

I didn't think it would take that long. But by Tuesday, they hadn't called.

I decided that I needed to talk to Michael H. Scott. But I couldn't find his e-mail. So I e-mailed the chancellor of my university. Who knows me. Who has read some of my stories. Who is working with me on a project for TCU called "Women of TCU". Where the women of TCU are recognized. We're working on getting a donor right now, because the whole goal of the project is to have statues of the founders' wives made. Since we have statues of the founders, and things... I don't know, it just seemed fitting. Because their wives donated a large portion of the money to start the university. And poured their hearts into it as well. But, that's a story for later. The chancellor.

I asked him if he could give me Monsieur Scott's e-mail. And told him that it was important as it dealt with my financial aid package. And hoped that he would read the e-mail on time... because sometimes he doesn't get to e-mails for several days, being as busy as he is.

He e-mailed me the next morning... but gave me the main number to financial services and told me that Marisha would help me out. He also told me to tell him if Monsieur Scott couldn't help me.

I sighed, but also had slightly more hope. And called Marisha. And was told that my advisor went on vacation. And that the director had my file. And would I like to schedule an appointment to come in? (To which I said no, and that me coming up there depended on my financial aid package.)

It ended up being the same message back to me again; be patient. Wait until Thursday. So I waited until Thursday. Yesterday. The absolute last day. And couldn't sleep all night, until I wrote something out like that walking-on-water piece I wrote. But different. It was comforting. Which, to an outside person might sound odd. But not me.

It's hard to describe how I write those. But it's like I'm not really writing them at all. It's more like I'm just.. recording a conversation with a dear friend. Like I'm in the scene myself, experiencing everything.

Thursday... yesterday... (as Kwame knows ^^") ... I felt so much pressure I actually fell asleep in the morning again. I could not. Move. I couldn't work on my books. I couldn't read. I couldn't think. I fell asleep. And woke up at 11:30. Still no e-mail. Lay there contemplating the music that was on, and then looked at the clock. 11:51. And no e-mail.

I saw this fortune cookie picture last night when I was Stumbling around. It said something to the effect of, "If you wait for the perfect moment, the perfect moment often passes you up."

And so with that in mind.... I thought "I need an answer", and called them. And was directed to an advisor named Trudy. Who assured me that the director had my file and that my financial aid was sufficient and that I needed to come in on Monday and see the director to see what else could be done. I was confused. Because this news was new. And seemed a bit wrong. Because I had no proof... But thought, okay, and scheduled an appointment, but went downstairs to Mom.

Where I told her what I had been told. And said that I needed to get up there. And if I had to come back, I would pay for the gas myself.

She had an "Oh hell no" moment.

And called the university. And spoke to Marisha. And explained what she had been told. And was told that she would be called back soon after Marisha spoke with the director. And still thought "Oh hell no", but was patient.

While she did this I called around to people that I knew. Trying to find some other thing that I could do to help myself. And coming to the conclusion that there wasn't anything else I could do. I had written scholarship essays. I had taken extra hours at work. I hadn't bought anything besides kombucha and cranberry harvest mix at work. Which are less than $5 together.

So I contented myself with looking at apartments that were close to campus. Because that was kind of something that I could do. And if I knew enough about it, I could convince my mom that I could stay there. There's one at $485 or so per month. It's kind of small. But that's okay. Except it wouldn't really have helped much.

Then I heard my mom. And turned down my music because she was upstairs and I couldn't hear her. And she sounded... happy. Which is a big deal. Especially because all summer she's been telling me that I was in denial, that I needed to look at other colleges, that there was no way I would be able to pull off going back, and that I was just hurting myself, keeping on like this. Basically that I was crazy. Which... yeah. Yeah, I am.

So I go upstairs. And she's nodding her head. And sounding like things are totally good. And Marisha is on the other line with her, and Mom's writing down numbers, and then she tells Marisha how amazingly helpful she's been, and then gets transferred to another department for a "final total", and writes down more numbers, and then hangs up the phone.

And looks at me.

And tells me that I better go to Bath & Body Works and buy Marisha the biggest gift basket ever. And take that down to her office and thank her profusely.

I'm smiling at this point because I know that something has happened and I'm not sure what, but since I started walking up the stairs to sit by mom during the phone call I've just known that something has happened and changed. So I wait 2 seconds.

And she tells me that Marisha tracked down the advisor who told me all of those weird things this morning. And that after the advisor backpedaled and said things like "But I didn't say that... but I ... but... she.... no.... I didn't..." etc etc, they went into Monsieur Scott's office. And Marisha, who knows my situation quite well, and the director, who may or may not have been talked to by the chancellor, and the advisor, all looked at my financial aid package. And the director decided that I was a freshman last year... and I needed money ridiculously so much this year... and....

... that he would raise my TCU grant.

A lot.

Moreso than is usually done.

This case, I was told, is extremely uncommon.

As in it like, never happens. Except it did happen. To me.

He raised my grant $10000.

...


:)

So... I'm going back.

And.... I'm not waiting, anymore.

And Frog Day is where it needs to be.

And consequently, my books are where they need to be. And I don't know if I really would have gone after them as hard as I did this summer, getting some made and reading Julia to some kids at VBS and meeting with some guy and learning about 'the art of small-businesses'.

So every goal I had for this summer was accomplished.

And I'm completely insane. And was completely insane. Except not really.

Because as I explained to several people, it didn't make sense to doubt that Monsieur Dios wouldn't come through for me. And when I talked to Monsieur Dios, I told him "It doesn't make sense to me to doubt you, so I'm sorry if I'm praying wrong and doing this whole "help me" thing wrong, but you're amazing. And you're going to come through". And he is amazing. And he did come through. Even if he flipping made me walk on water to get there.

I had the thought, several times, "What will you do if you say all these great things about Him and it ends up that you can't go back?"

I was finally able to answer that question last week. The answer was that I wouldn't change. I wouldn't regret saying anything. Because I mean what I say. Especially when I talk about Him.

So I'm pretty extremely amazingly happy, right about now. Because all of the waiting... Oh lordie... So worth it...

Which is why I feel like... after this... I can do anything. Seriously. Anything.

It's amazing.

Brilliant.

Love Him.