BYU and the future

Today, I did something I thought I couldn't. I got into BYU. The Master's program in English to be exact--a program with a 25% acceptance rate. Eighty some students apply and twenty some are accepted.

And I'm one of the twenty some.

And it just feels like... finally.

Let's take a step back for a moment. Back to my undergraduate career, sophomore year, smack dab in the middle of spring semester, Baldwin-Wallace College. I was just about to embark on a summer in Provo, UT, where I would climb mountains, float down rivers, learn to be independent, rely on the Lord, and make friends that would inspire me for years to come. And even though I hadn't left yet, I knew I would love it. I missed the mountains, though I'd never seen them. I envied the people I hadn't yet met, and wanted a life I hadn't yet lived.

And that is why I wanted to transfer to BYU.

I didn't tell anyone (well, very few anyones), because the idea was so exhilarating and forbidden and I didn't want it to burst before it came to fruition. So I held the idea close to me, a secret dream, as I began filling out the application and researching housing, on-campus work opportunities, and the English department.

Needless to say, I didn't transfer. The application is still floating around in cyberspace, half-finished. I returned from Provo and jumped back into life at Baldwin-Wallace. Yet as I studied and wrote and worked my way towards my Bachelor's degree at BW, I still harbored a secret jealousy for those who got four years at BYU. Even at my graduation, I indulged a thought or two of walking across the stage at BYU, envisioning who my friends would be, what I would have accomplished, what my future plans would be.

That is why it feels like finally. Finally, I'm going to BYU.

I can't wait to get there. To find an apartment where I will live for not months, but years. To attend classes, to meet and foster relationships with professors, to settle into a ward family with a feeling of permanence, stability, hope.

I'm going to BYU!

Before I end this hopeful post, I just want to say that I'm grateful I didn't transfer during my undergraduate studies. If I had, I wouldn't have been VP of Membership for Zeta Tau Alpha, and learned a great deal about myself and leadership, and fell in love with my sisters all over again. I wouldn't have joined the Religion department and met some amazing individuals--both peers and professors--who will be a part of my life indefinitely. I may or may not have met David, the love of my life; even if I had, I don't think we'd be preparing for the rest of our lives together now, as I'd have flown thousands of miles away just two short months after our first date. And I wouldn't have been here to share that last difficult and powerful week with my father.

With full sincerity, I loved my years at BW.

So perhaps I shouldn't say finally, because I think this acceptance came at just the right time. And now I get to head off to Utah with an amazing guy, to start our lives together, to learn together and work together and figure things out together.

The next 5-6 months better fly by!