The Anatomy of Rejection

I touched on this briefly last post.  It’s not that I get my feelings hurt when I receive a reject on my labor of love (my novel).

It’s this:  I want something so bad and I hold so many expectations and hopes that when I do get rejected, it’s not personal or a reflection of me.  It doesn’t hurt my ego or anything.  It’s a deflation of my dreams and expectations and the knowledge that there is still plenty of work to do.  It also is a lesson in patience (not my strong point by any means).  I have to wait longer to see my book in print, to see my dreams materialize, to hold my work in my hands and watch others enjoy what I’ve created.

I want it now is what it comes down to and a rejection signals, “Nope, not now but later.”

I know that my novel is good.  I know in my heart it is God’s work and it is meant to be shared to help others cope in this world.  I know that.  It’s just frustrating when I can’t seem to get that across to others.

No one said this was easy or life was easy.  What fun would that be?

I pray I get an agent soon.  I pray I get a publisher soon.  I pray my husband gets a job soon.  I pray we move to where I want to live and not to some hole-in-the-earth place where a job happens to be.  I pray my kids get accepted to schools where I can feel comfortable sending them to, where I won’t have to homeschool them the rest of their lives, where they can have friends and the whole school experience.  I pray these burdens on my heart are lifted.

I miss my old town.  I miss my old church.  I miss my friends.  My kids miss their friends.  Hell, I even miss my old house.

Do the trials of life ever end?