The lady at the business office

I checked my account summary for the fall semester.
$690.
That is how much I still owed.
Two scholarships had worked. Over half my tuition had been paid for. I was wanting nothing.
Nothing but the third scholarship to work.
Because I didn't have $690.
I called the Scholarship office. They didn't know what to do.
I called the Business office. They transferred me to the lady in charge of scholarships. She didn't answer her phone that day. So I left a message. And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I called again.
And again.
And again.
For a week.
"God! What do I do? The balance is due on Monday and today is Friday!" I had faith. God would take care of me. He always took care of me.
Saturday and Sunday passed. I complained to my friends about the situation. I told myself I had faith. But the more I complained, the more I found I didn't trust God.
I told myself I would call again on Monday, and get everything sorted out before the day was done. God would take care of me as long as I took matters in my own hands. God helps those who help themselves, after all...
Monday came. I called again. She didn't answer her phone. I left another message.
"GOD!" My heart was frantic. I panicked and could do nothing but worry and complain. I complained to God, "I asked you to take care of this on Friday. I need you to make this scholarship work. I need $690 paid for today. The money is there, you just need to make this lady pick up the phone. She just needs to-"
"Hush, child." I was hushed. "Do I not pave my streets of my city with gold? Do you not think I have $690 for you? I am the King of Kings. My land flows with milk and honey. I even take care of the sparrows! How much more do you think I will take care of you?"
"I know..I know.."
"I gave you the gift of faith, where is your faith, little one? You said you would trust Me."
"I trust you, God."
"Then trust Me."
I remembered my neighbor, who told me that he and his wife never worried about money. God always provided for them, no matter the time frame, no matter the sum. My neighbor told me, "We always knew God would take care of us. When we needed money, we always knew He would provide. But sometimes it was just like:" And he raised his hands up in question, and he lifted his eyes in doubt of his Savior, "Come on, God..." And he looked me dead in the eyes, "But we never should have doubted because, always, just in time, God came through, just like always."
I remembered this, and told myself I would trust God.
But doubts filled my mind again. Have I really done everything I could do? I could go up to the office and talk to the lady in person. I found her email address. I asked my parents if I should email her and ask her to take care of my scholarship. 
Mother and Father both said, "Wait for God. Just wait." 
Evening was upon us. Office hours were over. 
I checked my balance again. 
$690 still to be paid for.
"I am not going to worry about this." I told myself as I worried.
To get my mind off the matter I checked social media.
Where I found:

"Why worry? If you've done the very best you can, worrying won't make it any better." —Walt Elias Disney

and again:

 In in Luke chapter ten, "Remember what Jesus said to Martha? 'You are worried about many things.' Well, of course she was. She was a good Israelite. That was the hallmark of their existence. People who wanted to please God we're constantly concerned with fulfilling laws and rules and expectations. Then Jesus showed up and said, 'I'm going to change everything. I don't want you to live busy, worried, anxious, and fearful. I'm ushering in a new era where just one thing is needed. Just enjoy me. Because in me, righteousness and peace have kissed. Mercy and truth have met together. I can do for you what fifteen hundred years of attempting to adhere to the Law cannot. Just sit down, Martha, and listen to me.'" //Judah Smith// "Life is __." #thejourneyislove

And my dad came into the room, "Don't worry. I know you've done everything you can do to fix this." But I asked myself, had I really? I hadn't emailed the scholarship office. I hadn't even gone there to talk to someone in person. "You have left multiple phone messages. You have called every office. And I have helped you; I have called the college. I know you have done what you could. This will all work out. It isn't your job anymore to try to fix this. God will take care of everything."

So I went to bed, and tried to forget my problems. "I trust you, God. I trust you..."

When I woke up, the first thing I did was worry. (It accomplished nothing for me.) I asked my mom, "If my tuition isn't paid for, should I still to go to Orientation tonight? Because the email I received said that if my tuition isn't paid by yesterday then all my classes will be cancelled."
"Why don't you go check your balance to see if it has changed at all?"
I obeyed, doubting though, because I had checked it after the school office closed the night before, and now I was checking it as the office opened...What chance was there that someone had taken care of anything in between last night and this morning?
I opened my laptop, typed in my username and password, clicked on "Account Summary."
And the balance was paid in full, with money left over so I could buy my textbooks.
"God, I am so so sorry for doubting you. I never should have worried. I always know you will always take care of me! Please forgive me for my unbelief."

The sunday school teacher and his wife

Sunday morning came, and I was terrified. Do we have to go visit another church? Anxiety welled up in the pit of my stomach. I was almost crying by the time I pulled my dress over my head. I glanced in the mirror. I was past the point of caring what I looked like. My hair was still in the pony tail from breakfast. There was no make up on my face, and there hadn't been for weeks.
 We drove to church. It was a huge one this time. So big, like a grand hotel.
We stopped by the guest center to ask what rooms our Sunday School classes would be in.
Ugh.
New people to make small talk with.
New songs to learn during the service.
I was tired.
I walked into the room filled with people my age. I went to the very back of the room and sat by nobody.
A man in a yellow polo looked at me. He was in his mid-forties, but could pass for ten years younger. He smiled and said, "Hi!" I smiled back, energy draining fast already. "What's your name?" I told him my name. He interviewed me, a thing I usually hated, but the more he went on, the more I liked him. He wasn't faking friendliness. He wasn't faking enthusiasm. He was genuinely kind and empathetic. "You want to become a librarian! That's the most awesome thing I have ever heard! Have you been to the Main Library? The third floor? Right! It's amazing..When I get caught at NASA for not knowing what I'm doing (I've worked there for thirty years, and I'm sure the act is about up), I'm going to the Main Library, third floor, I'm gonna get that job. And my wife, she's an English major too (you need to meet her because she's the bomb), we're gonna work up there together when we're old. My wife Cheryl is amazing. I can't wait for you to meet her. I was listening to her teaching a bunch of women the other day (yes, I was at Mt. Zion Baptist's lady's meeting, but if you've heard Cheryl speak, you wouldn't judge me for wanting to listen), and she was talking all about God, and how He is a part of even the littlest things in our lives. It was really great to just listen to her. She's so wise. Oh! Here she comes now." And a small lady with graying hair which used to be black came in, quietly. She smiled at her husband and took a seat close by him. He put his arm around her and told me again just how amazing she really was. She laughed humbly and endured him.
I fell in love with the two immediately. I was in love with them being in love, right there, shamelessly, in front of me and the rest of their Sunday School class. They were both nearly fifty, but they flirted with young eyes, and they loved with ancient hearts.
 He checked his watch and realized it was time to start the lesson. "Let's turn in our Bibles to 1 Peter 1:3-4, "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, reserved in heaven for you.' This is really amazing, look at it again! Heaven is ours through Christ's resurrection! God gave us this inheritance through Jesus. That, that is something to be thankful for. 
"Romans 6:3-14 says, 'Do you not know that as many of us as were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death?  Therefore we were buried with Him through baptism into death, that just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life.
^"'For if we have been united together in the likeness of His death, certainly we also shall be in the likeness of His resurrection,  knowing this, that our old man was crucified with Him, that the body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves of sin. For he who has died has been freed from sin.  Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with Him, knowing that Christ, having been raised from the dead, dies no more. Death no longer has dominion over Him. For the death that He died, He died to sin once for all; but the life that He lives, He lives to God. Likewise you also, reckon yourselves to be dead indeed to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body, that you should obey it in its lusts. And do not present your members as instruments of unrighteousness to sin, but present yourselves to God as being alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness to God. For sin shall not have dominion over you, for you are not under law but under grace.'
"We are united to God through faith. Now, I grew up a Catholic, and they say they believe Jesus died, was buried, and rose again. But that's just like saying 'I know my car is broke, but there is a mechanic across the street.' Knowing there is a mechanic across the street doesn't fix your car! Taking your car to the shop is the faith. Our faith is what unites us to Christ's death, burial, resurrection, and His life.
"Let's look at this backwards, like most people do: we ask, 'You want to get saved? You'll get to share in the life of Christ!' And isn't that what we all want? Everyone is searching for life. Of course they'll say 'Yeah, sign me up, I want life!' Then we go backwards, still, 'Christ was resurrected, so can you be. He had been buried, since he was dead. He had been crucified on a cross for your sake so you can have life.' But that's not how the story goes at all. 
"The story must be told forwards. Christ was crucified. He endured that pain to take the punishment for your sins. Christ willingly gave up His life. He died and was buried. Three days later He rose from the grave. He is alive now and sitting at the right hand of the Father. If you want part of this life, which He so earnestly wants to give you, you must take part in His death. You must die to yourself and the lusts of your flesh. Only when you die, can you come alive. God will resurrect you and bring you life. You will be freed from the power of sin.
"People think that once they become a Christian, everything will be all hunky-dory and their lives will be perfect. They see Christian John and Christian Sue walking home from church, smiling and laughing and having a sun shiny day. They think the Christian life will be God keeping them from all harm.
"But the Christian life is about sanctification. God making us like Him. We will be freed from the power of sin, but that doesn't mean we will stop sinning. We have a choice now, to sin or to stop. God will give us the power and the strength to choose righteousness because He has given us a new heart that can choose. We just have to choose rightly.  And this came from the Bible, not from Spiderman: To whom much is given, much will be required. We have been given life everlasting! God requires us to live purely for Him.
"So find your weaknesses, and watch your thoughts. Investigate God through His holy Word. And share Him with others. This is my charge to you to live your resurrected life fully. I know it's hard to share God with others. We freeze up and get nervous, but I tell you this: the more joyful you are about something, the easier it is for you to share it. So find your joy in God (thanksgiving is the foundation of joy), and you will share in His life."

The tree

There once was a forest of trees. In the midst of all the trees was a singular tree. There was nothing remarkable about the tree that would call it to your attention, for it was the same size, color, and shape as all the other trees. It grew the same way, had just as many bird's nests in its branches, gave off the same amount of oxygen as every other tree in the forest.
The forest grew taller and wider, soaking up sunshine and soaking in rain. The noted tree grew with it, without complaint. Soaking in the rain and shine like all the others, for years and years.
But one day, the tree had a thought.

I am tired of growing.

I am big enough.

So it stopped growing. It shook of the raindrops when they came down. It exhaled the sunshine. 

For a while, the tree thought it was nice not to expend energy on just growing bigger. The tree relaxed and spent its time resting and enjoying itself.

Years passed and for a long time all was well.

But the little tree seemed to shrink under the branches of its fellows who were still using their sunbeams and raindrops to grow tall. 

Soon enough, the little tree was dwarfed by the forest. It could no longer see the sky; the rain no longer spattered on its face. It was no longer warmed by the beams of the sun. 

The little tree shriveled up and rotted in the shade of his healthy friends. It became hollow and fell with a crash to the forest floor. The remains of the tree turned to waste and fertilized the roots of his old friends and fed the mouths of the forest creatures. 

The End

The moral of this story is to never stop improving yourself and never stop growing.

The grandfather

He is the friendly widower living on top of the hill over there. You look out your front windows and you see him occasionally watering his flowers or mowing his lawn. His house is gray and his yard is green. There are pink flowers in his trees and rabbits burrowing in his grass. At night, under the trees, lightning bugs dance. His is the only place in the neighborhood which has that amount of fireflies.
He comes over when you're outside, and he says hello. You smile because it's always pleasant to hear the funny way he talks. He brings over his plow to help your mom in the garden. And the next day he brings over his electric hedge trimmers because he hates to see her toil with the manual ones. He brings over zucchini plants to plant beside the tomato plant he has already given you. He brings over broccoli salad and the recipe just in case you like it. He brings the little ones toys to play with, and he brings you his wife's old China set and a quilt to boot. He brings his favorite childhood books to read to the children. He comes over to sing for your family, and he teaches you the second verse to Bicycle Built for Two. He tells you stories about how life was when he was young. And he shows you pictures of the fashionable sideburns he had (which haven't shrunk much) and pictures of all the different color leisure suits he used to wear. He tells you about how God got him through college and ever afterwards. He tells you the miracles God worked in his life for every day he has lived. He tells you the best way to live is the way where you don't worry about a thing because you know God works out everything and all you have to do is go along with it all no matter how crazy it seems.

The artist

There is a young girl with sparkle in her eyes. She's fond of writing and has open mind to see inspiration, beauty, and stories in everything. She is an avid liver of life which may surprise you because of her quiet and pleasant demeanor. She has just enough child in her to see the world as God made it to be seen. And has just enough woman in her to create what God designed her to create.

With smiles all over, she does what she does best: draws.

Pencils and sketchbooks lay tidily on her desk. There are pictures framed on her walls of her best artwork yet. Graphite and charcoal magically blend in her hand as she smooths them together across a crisp page of white. She unveils a masterpiece. Portrait after portrait. Never has she wasted the gifts that her Father bestowed to her. And through her art, He blesses the world.

The worker

He's studying at school for a job he knows he will never like for a family he does not know yet. His hopes are on a wife and some kids, and his goal-even now, before he has ever met them-is to keep them safe and make them happy. He's been working so hard, studying so greatly at subjects he knows he will never enjoy so that the family he one day will have-the family he knows will be more important to him than his own happiness-will be well fed with a roof over their heads. 

Sometimes you can catch him writing-when he doesn't think it will hurt anyone-one of those long novels he's so good at which always turn out so beautifully. And which he doesn't think enough of to send to a publisher, despite everyone who's ever read it telling him that he should. 

And sometimes you'll find him-when the fight with with homework is over-and when the words for his pages have failed him-still being the hero, if only on the Xbox. He's fighting for justice and saving the innocents, even when he has to get his own hands dirty to do it. The video games might not matter to his father, or even himself, but to his sister they show there is a battle inside of him between what he wants and what he knows he must do. 

And as explosions simulate on the screen, his sister knows the choice he has made-though she wishes he could have both. Sometimes still thinks he could-she knows he's making the best decision for that family he one day will have. 

The writer

Red hair. Tied in a curly braid.
Auburn eyes. Focusing on the page.
Small hands. Gripping the pen.
The young woman scribbles her sentences over the blue lines of the notebook. She has butterflies in her stomach over the life of the characters on the page. She just met them a few weeks ago, but already she loves them dearly.
The writer's brain goes a thousand miles a minute. Her plot unfolds and the words on the lines say wonderful things. She is happy with the way the paragraphs are turning out. She is happy in general. She always has nice things to say and good things on her mind. She is an inspiration.
And those eyes. They are the color of her hair, but they aren't red. Modestly, she calls them brown, but no. Those shining eyes are golden with sunshine and burning with copper. Rays of fire beam through the metallic rims. And the pupils, black as night, are the center of the universe.
Her joy and wisdom radiate from her eyes. They aren't windows; they are open gates of knowledge wrapped up in emotions which she says doesn't exist.
She keeps a list of things she is thankful for. She writes those gifts down, recording every good thing she receives from God.
She writes some stories.
She writes some letters.
She writes some journals.
She writes her blog.
She writes and writes and writes for God.