The missing pink feather

I once was slighted when I wanted a pink feather.

And I'm still waiting for the day I receive it.

When I was in kindergarten, one day we joined with all of the other classes and had a huge Thanksgiving feast in the hallway, and all of us were dressed as Native Americans. These precious outfits we wore were completed with feathers, which our teachers provided, on our paper head wraps. I was so excited to wear a pink feather on my head. My favorite color was pink—this was obviously before I discovered sea foam green—and it was rather discouraging to walk around all day with the wrong color defining, as I thought at the time, who I was.

But my teacher only had one feather in her hand, and when she came to me and heard me ask for pink gave me a red one, instead. She gave the pink one to the girl right after me in line, who also happened to be her favorite student. I felt a dagger go through my young heart.

I realize this was many years ago, but I was hurt so badly in that moment that it has stuck with me ever since. Why was I not special enough for the pink feather? Why was I forced to wear this fiery red one, instead of the beautiful and bright pink one? Though I adapted in the moment and didn't let the situation ruin the rest of my life, the painful memory is still there.

And I still haven't given up the hope that I will one day find my pink feather.

Since this whole kindergarten fiasco, I've encountered quite a few instances in life where I don't exactly get the things I want, especially when it comes to relationships. The guys I've had crushes on never seemed to feel the same way, and the ones who have shown interest in me didn't make my heart flutter. And, the very few times when there appeared to be mutual attractions, and it looked like something might happen, it didn't. And I was left with heartache.

Perhaps one day

And I felt like I'd been handed yet another red feather each time.

My 10-year high school reunion was Saturday, and I was suddenly reminded of just how differently the events of my life have gone than I thought they would when I daydreamed of what the future held after I walked that stage back in 2003. So many of my friends are married—many also with kids now—or are in serious relationships, which I suppose is to be expected at this stage in life. As I sat at a table, looking around the room and soaking in all that surrounded me, I decided I was thankful that I hadn't mistaken any of the red feathers in my life for the pink one. I'm still waiting for that one, and I'm fine with that.

I think God plants certain desires in our hearts for different reasons, and it's necessary to wait on His timing for those things to come to fruition. Obviously the wanted color of your feather at an elementary school Thanksgiving feast isn't pertinent to your overall joy in life, but there are specific longings of the heart that should not be compromised, especially if He's the one doing the prompting on your heart.

My sister worked in sales until she woke up to God's calling to become a teacher, and it's amazing how fast and perfectly things fell into place for her to get her first teaching job this year—pink feather; one of my best friends went through a huge and emotional heartache that somehow led her to the man who is now her husband—pink feather; a dear friend went through a very hurtful period following a miscarriage before God blessed her with the wonderful daughter she has now—pink feather; every single day, people wait in expectation on things that don't happen, because there are different plans in order for them that are the most beautiful pink feathers anyone could ever imagine.

I didn't get to eat corn and rolls and mashed potatoes with my hair in pigtails and a pink feather adorning my head when I was a young girl fascinated by a special color. But that's ok. Sometimes the pink feather you need doesn't come when you think it will.

But I'm still not giving up the hope that my pink feather is out there and will one day find its way to me.