The Last One Standing

The older you get the more time seems to whiz by so I hadn't really noticed that six months had passed since the agent said she wanted my book proposal. Then I noticed that her facebook site said that she was behind, but only by 3 months. That means my proposal should have been read, and rejected likely, but still..... 3 months ago!!! Some agents don't bother to respond to their rejects, but this one had promised that she responds to every single writer! That is very kind, and also probably why she was 3 months behind in reading the proposals. We all would rather be rejected than treated as invisible.

So as I was driving home from errands, I was obsessing about how she either hated it so much that she decided to break her rule and not even tell me how completely she had rejected it, or she had lost it.
"I pray Lord," I finally said, "That she lost it, and good things will come of that. Like maybe she will offer to read it immediately. I thought you were directing me to write that book, dear Father. But perhaps I was wrong. Maybe you just wanted me devoting two years to this project to teach me something more valuable, like word processing skill, or how to bang my head against the computer without breaking it."

So upon arriving home, I wrote to her, trembling. She is my top choice agent and not because she is the only one left that hasn't rejected me, I assure you. She wrote back instantly.  She had reviewed her files and had indeed received my work at the time when her computer crashed. All her attached files, including my proposal were sacrificed to the EtherBeast. When I wrote a few months ago to ask how the proposal looked to her, she had said I should sit tight- she would be getting to it soon. But she had not realized it had been eaten alive in the computer crash, and she hadn't checked. Thus, my proposal was lost. Now of course I have plenty of copies backed up,so this in and of itself is not a disaster. The lost 6 months when I could have been searching out other agents to lose or reject me was a larger matter.  She apologized profusely, said it was completely her fault, and she proposed that if I was willing to send her another, she would read it by Friday.  I told her I had figured something like that had happened, and I would be very grateful for her offer to read it by Friday. I told her not to worry about it; I was just happy she would agree to look at it now.

Then she wrote back to thank me for my incredibly nice and understanding note. I am glad she seems to like me. Many of the agents over the past two years that have rejected me told me it pained them to reject me because they liked me. My work, well that not so much, but me they liked. I suppose of the two, I would prefer they like me.  So I am gratified that I was able to respond gently, which is not always my first choice, but I am also not deluded into believing that means my proposal will be accepted.

On our drive back from the mountains Tuesday, I noticed a barn up a hill on the side of the road. Tall Cyprus lined the roadside, and the barn stood starkly against the deep blue sky of the late afternoon. Nothing else filled the scene- just that weathered, lonely barn, blue sky, and green brown field. I thought how simple and elegant and beautiful that barn looked, and remembered paintings like that, where just a simple building in the vast and open beauty of an unadorned field and sky carried such power, such majesty. It seemed to me a statement of the courage it takes to stand alone in the vast and often harsh world, against sometimes what feels like impossible odds of survival, or certainly of triumph. Perhaps the painter would say sometimes a barn is just a barn, but to me, nothing is ever just what it seems to be. It is always God's message in symbol and pictograph. I identified with the barn, and the image of it came back to me as I thought of the agent reading my proposal for my book.

So many times in the Bible, the hero is found all alone at the bottom of a well, like Jeremiah, or in prison like Joseph, or covered with oozing sores and abandoned by everyone, like Job. Hosea is commanded by God to marry a harlot that will continue in her sinful life so God can provide an object lesson of unfaithfulness and its consequences.  None of those heroes deserved what they got, in my humble opinion, and yet every one was used by God to do great things of eternal significance.  Standing alone, feeling alone, being battered by the winds with no trees or valleys to shelter you is sometimes God's plan, and it feels very harsh. It feels harsh when I make my kid eat her vegetables though she feels like she would rather die than do so,too. Trust in an authority that seems capricious and cruel is close to impossible..... unless there is monumental evidence that it is all motivated by a powerful and understanding Love.  Every one of those heroes knew God intimately, and knew that His love could be trusted, even in those times when it didn't feel like Love.

I think we are all that solitary barn sometimes, all alone on a mountain, watching the storm clouds roll in. But you never know how many travelers are passing by, and looking at you and thinking if that old barn can stay upright, maybe so can I..... especially because the One who built me knows exactly how much my old frame can take of the bitter wind.

Psalm 102:7, 17-20
7 I lie awake; I have become
   like a bird alone on a roof. ¹⁷ He will respond to the prayer of the destitute;
   he will not despise their plea.
 ¹⁸ Let this be written for a future generation,
   that a people not yet created may praise the LORD:
¹⁹ “The LORD looked down from his sanctuary on high,
   from heaven he viewed the earth,
²⁰ to hear the groans of the prisoners
   and release those condemned to death.”