How Did I Get Here?

Somedays I walk around and all I can think is: "How the heck did I get here?". Some would say that it was a series of choices that I made. Others would call it luck. I think that it was God.
I never meant to end up at BYU. Ever. The only time I ever thought about applying was when I realized that I wouldn't be getting into Wellesley- my top choice. But I didn't apply. And then I got into NYU and it seemed like a dream come true. It was like all that hard work, four straight years of school without a summer off, was finally paying off. I knew once I had that acceptance letter that I couldn't not go. So I sent in my letter of intent, I paid the deposits, and I went to orientation. And I fell in love. I fell in love with the person that I could be. I fell in love with the vast freedom that seemed to stretch out in front of me. I was still stunned, though. I never imagined that I'd get into NYU. I'd applied simply for the rejection letter. I brought this up with my guidance counselor, and she pulled out my application to see what was up. She mentioned that my GPA was good, but not great. My SAT scores were good, but not great. All in all, she said that I must have had either splendid recommendations (which I didn't- I'd read them), or an amazing essay. It was as if God lined up NYU for me. The essay I wrote was a short one- about The Phantom Tollbooth. It had been a book we had read once in the fifth grade, and all summer before I sent out my applications I kept thinking about it. I finally read it again, and had a dream in which I wrote my college essay on it. So I did. And I got into NYU. I had so much faith in going there. And then my loan fell through. And I didn't go. And I spent 4 miserable months at home crying about it. I knew that there was no way that I'd ever be able to afford it. My hope was shattered.
And then I got into a fight with my dear friend Sam. She told me that the church wasn't true. She said that there was no scientific evidence to back up the Book of Mormon. And I was crushed. And angry, and spiteful... so I decided that I'd prove her wrong- and go to BYU. I knew that I was just saying it like I had before. I didn't mean it. I didn't want to go to BYU. But the day after our fight, it just seemed right. So I decided to apply. For reals this time, too. So I went to my old high school counselor and got her to fill out a form. I filled out the application. I paid the fees. I talked to my old seminary teacher. I even went to have an interview with my bishop- all without telling my mom. I don't even remember why, but it was so important to me that she not know until I had the acceptance letter in my hand. I wasn't approving of the person that she was, or her lifestyle. Maybe part of me was afraid that she'd be disappointed in my choice. My bishop recommended that I tell her, and one day, I got the courage to. I knew that I'd have to visit with a member of the stake, and she'd wonder why, so I told her before it got to that point. And I cried. She looked at me and said something to the effect of, "Jessica, I am so happy that you've made this decision. I've been worried for so long about how we weren't going to be able to afford NYU. I'm just glad that you came to this conclusion on your own". It was so contrary to anything that I thought she'd say.
Once I sent in the application, I had no doubt in my mind that I would not be accepted to BYU. It was the end of February, and I had just missed the Fall deadline. Within a week I had my acceptance letter in hand. It was as if all my thoughts about NYU flew away, and all I could think about was how happy I was, and how I'd get to go to BYU. From that point on, I was honestly happy. The depression following me around dissipated, and I looked forward to January, when I'd get to go.
Now, when I look around BYU, with the leaves changing color and falling, blowing in the breeze, when it rains or when it snows, all I can think is how blessed I am to be here, and how my Heavenly Father knows me better than I could ever know myself. It was honestly like he purposely had me dream up the Phantom Tollbooth essay so that I'd get admitted into NYU, the one school He knew that I wouldn't be able to pay for, but that I wouldn't be able to say no to. He did just enough to get me to come around to applying to BYU on my own. He did what He had to do to get me here. I know that this is where I'm supposed to be. There's no doubt about it in my mind, and I'm grateful to my Heavenly Father for allowing it to happen.
That first semester I was miserable. I refused to make any friends, and I constantly questioned why I was supposed to be here. It was cold and wet, and I felt alone. But then the winter began to turn to spring, and I remember walking home from classes smiling, thinking about how beautiful it really was. And then when the spring came and all the trees were in bloom, it was perfect and picturesque. And then the summer was so enjoyable, with all my new friends, and how just laying outside basking in the sun was wonderful. And then the fall rolled in, with the crunchy leaves. And now when it snows I think about how beautiful the mountains are. I love it here. And I feel myself changing all the time.
I also wonder frequently, how the heck did I get to be the person that I am now? How did I come out of all my trials and tribulations as the person that I am? How am I still positive? I've just been blessed.