I am in the “contract signing” stage for my new book.
And I couldn’t be more excited about my new publisher.
The best part is, they are excited too.

It’s been a road of ups and downs with this second book. Which shouldn’t be surprising, since my book is about having perspective in the ups and downs of life.

Apparently God thought it might be helpful if I had the opportunity to test it out.

I told Him my next book is going to be about European vacations.
But I digress.

This season has reminded me of my love life. And the ups and downs I went through to meet the man I’m married to right now.
It strikes me that God can see where we are headed in these seasons. But we sure do have to hang in there and trust Him when things look bleak.
Sometimes I think back to what God saw during the ups and downs and heartbreaks of my extended singleness:
such a hunk

(THIS is what my husband looked like during the time I was crying over everyone else. He’s a little grayer now but still a hunk.)

If I could have just seen what was ahead, I would have flung all former boyfriends out the door.
But “not seeing” is how we live by faith.

For you, it may not be a struggle with singleness.
But whatever your path, there can be confusing and dark moments along the way.
Curiously, the confusing and dark moments are all part of getting us to what God has in store.
And when we look back, we’ll see our journey differently.

It reminds me of a story I shared in Finding Faith in the Dark. And because it communicates so well what waiting brings to our perspective, I want to end my blog with this excerpt from my book.
I hope it speaks to wherever you are right now.

There was an old man who had a beautiful horse. This horse was not only his family’s pride and joy; it was also a means to an income for the family.
One day, the horse ran away. Fellow villagers visited the old man to offer their condolences for such a stroke of bad luck.“It could be good; it could be bad. Who can tell?” replied the old man.“It is as it is. My horse is gone.”
Perplexed at the man’s nonchalance, the villagers went about their business.
A few days later, the horse returned with a pack of twelve wild horses in tow. Again the villagers gathered, this time to offer their congratulations at such a stroke of good luck. Now he had twelve more horses with which to make twelve times the income!
“What a godsend!” they said.
“It could be good; it could be bad. Who can tell?” replied the old man again. “All I see is that twelve more horses have appeared.”
The next week, while breaking in one of the wild horses, the old man’s son fell and broke both of his legs.
“What bad luck!” the villagers exclaimed. “Your son has broken both of his legs. That’s terrible. How will you get your work done? You are too old to do it yourself.”
“It could be good; it could be bad: Who can tell?”
the old man answered in his predictable and frustrating way. “My son has broken his legs. That is all I know.”
Shortly thereafter, the government forcibly removed all the able-bodied men from the village, as the country had gone to war. The old man’s son, however, was spared since his legs were broken. The wisdom of the man’s words was clearly visible — as what seemed to be bad was, of course, very good.
Only time could tell.

grunge image of a field