Trust In The Timing

I had always thought I was ready. I didn’t know when I was beckoning God to open a door for me to publish a book, that it was my waiting season.

Since age seven, I knew I wanted to be a writer. When a relative told me, “Fix your mind on doing something else,” because she thought writing was out of reach for a Black girl growing up in a housing project, I didn’t let her words deter me. I could not deny the calling to be a writer in my life. With a sense of pride (especially around that relative), I’d grab my pen and black and white notebook and pour out my thoughts. Even in the summer, when the joyful sounds of my friends playing outside drifted up to my window with voices calling me to join in, I ignored them to focus on my writing.

I never veered from that dream even in adulthood. I wrote and submitted, and after many rejections but with unrelenting resolve, I became a published writer. My writing has been published online in Essence, Sisters AARP, and the Hallmark Mahogany blog, and in anthologies such as Chicken Soup for the African Woman’s Soul, among others. My writing also won or was shortlisted for numerous literary awards.

Alt text: Little Black girl looking up, smiling.

One of my biggest dreams was to write a children’s picture book. I wanted to create stories where my then-young grandchildren, nieces, nephews, and children could see themselves and their rich culture reflected. I wished for them to be gift-wrapped with tales about the souls of Black folks like the men and women I grew up with—their resilience, faith, joy, ingenuity, wisdom, and jubilation. I aimed to write about the uncle involved in the NAACP and the awe I felt when my mother, aunt, sister, cousin, and I—all dressed in dashikis made by our African dress designer named Fatima—went to see Miriam Makeba, the South African singer, songwriter, actress, and civil rights activist nicknamed Mama Africa. As an adult, I learned that Miriam Makeba used a clicking sound in her song “The Click Song,” reflecting the unique style of Xhosa singing.

I wanted to write about attending The Million Women March on October 25, 1997, in Philadelphia, and about all the beautiful Black people who gathered for this grassroots march for women. I wanted to share stories about neighbors who guarded the neighborhood children growing up, loving us close and strong. I spent many hours writing these kinds of stories, but my dream of publishing a children’s book felt impossible. I became discouraged and almost gave up.    

In my sixties, however, I began to give myself grace, grateful for all I had already accomplished through my writing. Then, one day, I came across an Own Voices, Own Stories competition at Sleeping Bear Press and, on a whim, entered one of my stories. Months later, that story was chosen as a 2022 Honor Award Winner and later acquired for publication.

Alt text: Two little Black boys lying on a rug, reading.

My sister once told me, when I was feeling disenchanted with my waiting period, “Trust in the timing, in those silent seasons in your life—you are being reshaped into your best self for what is to come.” She was right. Time is truly a master teacher. I had to sit quietly and listen to wise lessons during my thirties, forties, and fifties, especially amid storms and losses, like losing my parents. There were boulders I chipped away bit by bit until chunks fell away. And I had to tighten my faith, trusting God’s hand on my dreams and plans for my life and future.

Everything unfolded the way it was meant. I couldn’t see the beautiful portrait being painted then, but I do now. I had to trust that each brushstroke was purposeful and mapped out. And I am reminded that whenever I hold a copy of my picture book, This Sunday My Daddy Came to Church, where a mother explains to her son, who is disappointed that his father does not attend church with the family, the different ways we worship. The book is dedicated to my late parents.

Recently, I was looking at different sayings and quotations about timing. I came across one by an anonymous author that said, “The essence of timing lies in knowing when to leap.” That has become my blueprint as a writer and in life, knowing when to leap into each blessed season audaciously and expectantly.

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Jeanine DeHoney’s writing has appeared in Essence, KIZA BlackLit, African Voices, Sisters AARP, and the Hallmark Mahogany blog, among others. She’s an essayist in Chicken Soup For The African American Woman’s Soul, Zora’s Den, Black Lawrence Press, Black Freighter Press, and BLF Press. A 2022 Honor Awardee for Sleeping Bear Press’s Own Voices Own Stories Award, her children’s book, This Sunday My Daddy Came To Church, was published in August 2025.