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“You are my refuge and my shield; your word is my source of hope” (Psalms 119:114, NLT).
Four years ago, my dreams as an author were shattered. I’d spent over a year writing my story, crafting my one sheet, preparing my book proposal, and gearing up for my first-ever writing conference. Though it was virtual, nerves radiated through my body. But in a minute, my hopes were crushed.
Somehow, by a glitch in the Zoom call, the agent couldn’t see me sitting in the waiting room. Not only did she think I’d skipped the pitch appointment altogether, but it made me look unprofessional from the get-go. After rescheduling our meeting for later that day, I was mortified when she told me this book wouldn’t work in the market. Her feedback was harsh, but she was right; no one would buy a memoir from little old me.
And so, defeated and broken, I wept. I didn’t write for months and thought maybe I’d heard God wrong. If He called me to write, it definitely didn’t feel like it.
In a way that only God could, He lead me in a new direction. I was given direction, re-direction, and inspiration. Three years later, I would quit my teaching job in faith that I was now ready to publish. I would also go on to pitch to that same agent, be offered a contract on the spot, and sign with her.
Looking back, it’s been a year since I signed with that agent. I’ve experienced joy and much sorrow. Seventeen rejections later, I’m still waiting for the right publisher. My hope has wavered, but I haven’t lost it. Because everyone likes me and my writing, but I still need to continue to grow. To be more established. To keep serving. And so I will. I know my time will come. In accordance with the Lord’s. And though I grow weary, I won’t lose hope in doing good.
