When I was a kid I can remember intensely longing for two things: a horse and a sister. I had no preference for an older or younger sister, though obviously if my parents were going to give her to me, she’d have to be younger. I don’t remember badgering mom and dad for a sister (I may not have been clear on how that worked), but I do remember the deep desire for another girl to share clothes and secrets and dreams with.
I had a cousin, Susie, who came pretty close, but we didn’t see each other nearly often enough. Oh, I know now that I had it good as the only girl. My own room, getting to be my dad’s “favorite daughter” (he always said that with a grin), one-on-one girl time with my mom . . . I wouldn’t trade it now. But then . . .
As for the horse, I was absolutely certain that dream would come true. Each Christmas I ran to the tree certain there would be a saddle sitting there while the actual horse waited in the barn. We had a farm–why not a horse?
There was never a saddle under the tree. Again, it’s something I understand now. The cost, the hay that wouldn’t go to the cattle, the care, the pasture. But my 8-year-old heart beat for a horse.
And now. Each time I send out a query letter. Each time I meet an editor or agent and they show a glimmer of interest in my novel. Each time I get a kernel of encouragement, I rush to the Christmas tree and look for the saddle. I know it will be there this time–the signing offer, the publishing contract, the adoring readers.
God didn’t plan a sister for me. He didn’t create a horse with my name on it. As for a writing career . . . Well, I guess I just have to keep wishing and hoping and working. And if it doesn’t work out? I have to trust that one of these days I’ll understand.
I Corinthians 13:11-12 – When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a woman, I put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.
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