Sent

Can you lay hands on an e-mail?

I did.

My fingers left prints. Colored pixels flickered on and off as I put mild pressure on the screen. I couldn't even form words to describe what roiled inside me. 

"This is Yours," was all I could really manage.

My e-mail contained a single document and a small message, both of great importance. The document: my completed manuscript. The message: to the publisher of Marcher Lord Press.

I've awaited this day for almost two years--the day he first requested my manuscript. My novel, A Time to Die, was only at 30,000 words at that time. Today it's complete at 140,000. I fought the pressure to rush my writing. I held onto faith that God held my book near His heart more firmly than I did. I had to believe the publisher would still be interested in my novel even if I didn't finish it for a couple years.

God is faithful. God is patient. God is encouraging. 

 

Now that it's sent, I don't have expectations. Yes, there's hope, but any steps that follow this are gifts. There's always hope when God monograms your life with miracles.

The process of writing a book is unexplainably unique. I've learned more about someone's thinking than the rules of writing. I've seen God tie ends I didn't know I opened. I've grown to respect a publishing company like a close friend. I've seen how a publisher with passion can meet a need others are ignoring. I've learned my husband can have as much zeal for my writing as I do. 

I'm thrilled to grow. I'm ecstatic to learn. I'm even excited to wait. The more red-pen scribbling across my life (and manuscript) the better. My goal is not publication. My goal is glorification of my Lord.

So, with a deep breath, I wait. It is sent. I am sent. Can't wait to find out where.