This aspiring young author was in need of hope. more than one person had told him to give up. "getting published is impossible," one mentor said: "unless you are a national celebrity, publishers won't talk to you." another warned; "writing takes too much time. besides, you don't want all your thoughts on paper."
initially he listened. he agreed that writing was a waste of effort and turned his attention to other projects. but somehow the pen & pad could not be seperated to the wordaholic. he'd rather write than read. so he wrote. how many nights did he pass on that couch in the house, reshuffling his deck of verbs & nouns? how many hours did his wife sit with him? finally a manuscript was finnished. crude & laden with mistakes but finnished.
she gave him the shove. "send it out. what's the harm?" so out it went. mailed it to 15 different publishers. while the couple waited, he wrote again. while he wrote, she sat with him every night. niether expecting much, both hoping for everything.
As an author & his wife kept waiting, responses began to fill the mail box. "i'm sorry, but we don't accept unsolicited manuscripts, we must return your work. best of luck." :"our catalog doesn't have room for unpublished authors."
the wife framed the manuscript & gave it to him as a gift, about the time the 15th letter arrived. a publisher had said yes. they framed that letter too. which of the two is more meaningful? the gift from the wife or the letter from the publisher? it's the gift. for giving the gift, his wife gave him hope.
love does that. love extends an olive leaf to the loved ones & says "i have hope in you." love is just as quick to say "i have hope for you" you can say these words. you are a flood survivor, by God's grace you have found your way to dry land. (Gen:8:10-11). you know what is like to see the waters subside. & since you do, you are qualified to give hope to someone else who is low on hope.
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