The wilderness can be unpleasant (no water, no GPS, no path, no toilet paper. I like my creature comforts. Just sayin.’). A Biblical wilderness is similar. Jesus was tested in the wilderness, the Israelites wandered in the wilderness (for 40 freaking years!), and Elijah escaped into the wilderness to die. For the last year, instead of wandering, I’ve been waiting in a landscape of rejection as I try to understand in what direction God wants me to go. Self publishing? Small press? Agents to pitch my work to the “Big Four” (which includes Penguin Random House, HarperCollins, Simon & Schuster, and Hachette)?

I’d submitted several stories and my most current manuscript with no takers. When I received anything at all, it was a rejection. Very nice rejections, but it was still a no, thank you.  (I still appreciate a response of any kind since some agents are now responding to queries by ghosting.) I began wondering–maybe this was it for me. A three-book series and several short stories were more than I’d expected when I started out. Don’t be greedy, I told myself.

This waiting isn’t writer’s block. The stories keep coming. I’ve plotted three retellings, as well as three books for an urban fantasy series. Despite the recent rejections, or maybe because of them,  I struggled with self-doubt and the pressure to “write more fast.” The message to every writer out there is to produce more books as quickly as possible so your readers don’t forget about you. Just a bit hard when we’ve been dealing with events like graduation, a family member’s death, and an upcoming surgery–all within the same month.

I hadn’t taken into consideration the time or energy needed for my child’s major surgery. We’d reserved the hotel room, attended all the pre-op appointments, and completed the necessary tests. We were ready. I took my laptop with me (I thought I’d be able to write in the waiting room. *cue hysterical laughter*) On a Friday,  my husband and I camped out in the hospital waiting room, sat on uncomfortable chairs, drank subpar tea, and ate too-salty pretzels. For six hours. She came through surgery fine, and we drove home four days later. At home, we rounded up comfortable pillows and blankets, and charted medication to help her with pain management. (One of the most stressful/painful things is watching your child struggle with pain despite your best efforts.) She’ll be fully “recovered” in 12 weeks. In hindsight, I see how God didn’t want me to focus on querying and writing when my daughter needed my focus. After all, my kids are growing up and plan to move out (despite the promise I extracted from them both when they were six years old to never leave. Lol!)

Things are slowly returning to a new “normal” as I set up a routine that doesn’t coincide with a school district schedule. I’ve found a peace with where I am. The wilderness doesn’t always have to be horrible. I’m discovering it can be a place of renewal.

Have you ever had a season in your life that was difficult, isolating, or that failed to make sense to you? How did you handle it?  I’d love to hear about it.