Stay Well: The Wait Between the Send and the Story

“Stay well, Sarah Elle.”

This is how I sign off on every message or email I trade between prospects. It doesn’t matter if I’m cold-outreaching press teams for brands and hotels I want to work with, or I’m replying to a long-time client email. The rhyme and the blessing I end every email with feels very Prose-esque.

 I’ve been sending out quite a few inquiries lately, many of which are riddled with hope… and doubt that I’ll even get a reply. This feeling is pretty common when I aim higher than the usual. There’s a sense of deeply anointed expansion met with an equal feeling that I’ve threatened the very core of my comfort zone. No matter, I always click send with a ‘stay well’ and cross my fingers that every bold business move I make will be responded to with a new story to tell.

 And I want to write about that—that sacred crossing of your fingers. About what it feels like to refresh your inbox a little too often. How quiet it can get after you take a big leap in business, whether you’re waiting for the magazine to confirm your placement, for the client to say yes, or the dream collaboration to write back.

 If you’re in the middle of ‘stay well’ and your new story to tell, I have a little something for you. A piece, written from my very own experience, that will renew and rewrite the way you wait. 

Ladies, you’ve done the work. You’ve accomplished just about everything on your list and you’ve walked in obedience while doing it. Sometimes, there’s just nothing left to do while you wait… but have more faith. That the message will land with the right people. Your inquiry will be met by an eager representative. The client is rounding up the resources to pay for your creations.

This sacred in-between—let us call it the ‘pause before the promotion’—can be the moment you rest in God’s incoming testimony… or the very undoing of your hard work.

Just moments ago, I was stuck between paragraphs. I felt the inkling to write a new article, but the waiting between the last emails I sent and the ‘will this work, is this even worth it’ became too intense for me that I literally froze between words in a paragraph. But, mark my words, it was at that very moment, I chose.

I knew that I had just undergone a massive creative leap in my business. I accomplished things I never have in my decade of publishing. I took leaps, sent inquiries, and expanded my press in ways only the good Lord could take credit for. But in the moments of waiting after the send—that’s when I realized that the pause was not a rejection (unlike everything in my mind was burning to prove). This was the perfect in-between to test my faith. To show me everywhere I lacked conviction and let the silence scare me instead of sanctify me 

In these moments, it’s easy to forget all the ways it’s worked out before. It’s easier to recall all the instances where things didn’t work out and you failed.

Luckily, my discernment has been shaped like diamonds over the year that’s unraveled. My trust has been refined in too many ways to give up now. And even though I was in the middle of the greatest temptation to spiral—to refresh my inbox, overthink my outreach, and doubt my worth entirely—I remembered that faith isn’t an option right now. It’s a necessary discipline if I want to keep moving forward. And while the answer hasn’t arrived yet, “They [who] wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength…” – Isaiah 40:31

And that I did. [Between us, I turned on a sermon and took a nap.]

Now, like I said, waiting isn’t glamorous. It’s not an upscale article about how your tears are like diamonds, and it certainly doesn’t feel like a radiant self-care routine [COMING SOON]! As much as I love writing about which silks and linens make the wait more comfortable, when you’re in the thick of it, nothing feels editorial about the doubts you face.

… But, there is something beautiful about them.

There is an opportunity to stay open to possibilities when ‘trusting the timing’ isn’t working out too well.

Of all people, I understand the heartbreak of unanswered emails, declined pitches, and the fear of failing yet again. I also know about those spontaneous $10k client payments in first class, waking up from a nap to a new brand deal, and celebrating number one bestseller on a five-star resort.

So, let this be your reminder that God is always working on things you can’t see. Someone, right this moment (while you’re doubting yourself), could be forwarding your pitch to their boss. A prospect somewhere could be bookmarking your website. A follower you haven’t met yet is saving your posts for later. God is always doing the most behind the scenes. So don’t let your faith and, more importantly, your self-worth shake during the wait of what will come through. Prepare yourself and brand like the answer is already on its way, baby girl. Take the actions you’re called to… even if that action is taking a nap and trusting a little deeper.

And when you’re met with those inevitable doubts, try to acquaint them with peace, faith, and above all, hope. Your hope in these moments is what allows you to move forward during the pause. Gracefully. Instead of sowing seeds of doubt or obsessing about the harvest, water your trust.

The thing we’re waiting for is rarely ever going to come through the way we expect it. The email response will land softly. It will be a quick moment and then it will be over. You’ll feel the thrill of a secured deal, and the moment will pass. You’ll be onto the next inquiry in no time. And, just like that, you’ll be in the in-between all over again. So learn to make the wait more sacred than the yes, and you’ll unlock the secret to staying well between the send and the story.

Signing off, so… Stay well, ladies.

What bold pitch or prayer have you sent lately—without knowing if it would land?

Whether it’s a client inquiry, a press outreach, or a brand collaboration request… I want to know: what leap have you taken recently that required a little more faith than usual? Let’s normalize the waitlist before the win.

xx,
Sarah Elle, Editor in Chief of Prose Club