Breathing Easier, Shouting for JOY

**If you aren't looking for an emotional spewing session, just skip to the bottom part. Most of you know anyway. :0) I won't blame you, I just needed to get it all out.**


This last week has been the longest week of our lives. Rich auditioned last Wednesday for the Music Therapy program at USU and we were waiting for a response.

I like to compare and contrast our crazy week to this past year, which has similarly been the longest year of our lives. We applied to 14 PA schools. They all said no. We applied to 14 PT schools. They all either said no or never responded. Except one. They said, "hey it's open enrollment so you can come in 2014-15 if you want!"

Our savings account was pretty much zeroed out, and with no results. For those of you who don't know me well, I tend to stick everything into a savings account because it makes me feel safe and happy. Here I was, unsafe, trying not to be unhappy, and all we had to look forward to was a giant question mark. It's been a stressful year. I absolutely dreaded the mail while looking forward to it just the same. It was very hard to see complete strangers tell my husband that he wasn't good enough for them. I just wanted to scratch their eyes out. Call me a monster, but it happens to a girl after a while.

Last year was a big roller coaster for me, emotionally. I felt like I was beating my head against a wall, trying to figure out how this life stagnancy was supposed to be good for any of us. I hated Facebook for a while, with all of my friends posting about the multiple interviews their husbands were flying out for and the hard choice of which school's offer to accept. I found myself clinging to the ones who had misfortunes in some way or another because they were the only ones I could relate to. I would become hardcore Scrooge-like when it came to spending money. I can honestly say that I have never before in my life been so stressed for so long.

And I think I'm actually writing all of this down because I wanted it out of my system for good, now that I understand why I went through all of that.

I also wanted to make you wait to hear the good stuff. Just like I had to. :0)

Sometimes God's answers to my prayers are a NO. It can be hard to see the NO on the rejection letter as coming from God, but that was the case for us.

When the Music Therapy program became our plan C, I found that the rejections didn't sting quite as much. Music Therapy was everything Rich wanted and more. He would be able to help people, using music, and the thought of putting music aside for his career had depressed him multiple times before. But this didn't make him choose. It seemed perfect. I had hope again for the first time in almost a year.

I started to think that maybe God had to close all of the windows in the room so that I would notice the door, the obvious and best choice.

But then we had to wait even longer. I wanted to believe that Rich was a shoe-in and nothing would stop us from this plan C, but that last year still hung out in the back of my mind. I had gotten so used to a 'no' that I didn't want to hope for the 'yes' because if it didn't happen it would hurt too much. I battled this wishy-washy Janae thing since last February. It was rough, lemme tell ya.

And then it all came down to the audition on the 1st of May. I was so tense you could have played me like a fiddle (ha! music!). We waited for hours up in Logan. The audition came and went and they didn't even hint at anything, curse you stone-faced judges! :)

The very next day we got an email. "Hey," it said, "what's your address so we can mail the letter?" Why can't you just EMAIL it? So I thought, surely on Saturday. It will come.

It didn't. And it didn't come on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday. Today! It didn't come in the mail today! I nearly exploded, but couldn't because I was watching neighbor kids all day and I needed my wits about me instead of smeared all over the wall. ...that was a little too graphic. Sorry.

I wanted to cuss* at our postman. And his boss. And whoever was supposed to drive the mail down from Logan. I wanted to cuss* at people who didn't act like this decision was life changing for me.

*When I cuss at people, it comes out kinda low and grumbly like the mumbled blue streaks in cartoons, and usually in Nonsense. "Shmiga wiggin blasterfodder mumble guts..." Especially when I'm babysitting neighbor kids.

I instead demanded that Rich call the USU people. They didn't answer the first time. I willed him, using all of the brain power I had, to keep calling as incessantly as I would be if I were him.

And then he called me, around 3:30pm. They said we had better tell our landlady that we'll be moving to Logan.

And much rejoicing and grateful praying ensued!!!!!!!!!!!!

There, I'm done now. :0) Next post will have pictures of adorable children. In fact, I'll make sure there are more pictures than there are words.