“For we did not follow cleverly devised stories when we told you about the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ in power, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty.” 2 Peter 1:16 (NIV)
There’s nothing quite like waiting 15 years to receive a phone call. When it finally came, it was the slightest crack in the doorway of my dream to be a speaker.
I was hesitantly excited. When you have wanted something for a long time and it comes close enough to become a reality, it’s thrilling and terrifying all at the same time.
Suddenly, your heart shifts from neutral into this vulnerable place where acceptance commingles with rejection. And you are all too aware, things could go either way.
So, I packaged up a CD of one of my talks and sent it off. And I let my mind prematurely celebrate.
Then I waited.
And waited.
And nothing.
Feeling like a foolish girl who’d bought a prom dress before actually being asked to the dance, I sheepishly called to inquire whether or not the CD had been received. I was told it had been and if I hadn’t heard anything yet, I should assume it was a “No.”
Ouch.
That’s when you go sit on your back deck, close your eyes and decide whether to let the tears slip quietly down your cheeks or blink them back in an act of courageous defiance.
Rejection stinks.
I mean it really stinks.
It stunk when no guy asked me to couple skate in the 5th grade. It stunk when when my dad left our family. It stunk when I thought I was getting engaged at the very dinner when my college boyfriend broke up with me. It stunk when for years, all of my book proposals were declined by publishers. And it stunk when I sat on my deck and processed this situation.
Sometimes things like this just simply stink and there’s no cheery rainbow or pot of gold around the next corner. The music doesn’t crescendo as the hero in the story swoops you onto the side of his horse and the two of you ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after.
