Imagine

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.—Ephesians 3:20-21

If you know me, you know of my desire to publish my children’s Christmas book, The Prettiest Sight to See:  A Story of the Holly Wreath.  You may also know that some of my friends gave me a beautiful berry-laden holly bush for Christmas last year and that I planted it in a symbolic act of faith, trusting God to bring a fruitful harvest.  As suggested, I planted the tree alongside my driveway so I would see the gentle reminder every time I drove by.  In front of the holly, I positioned a yard ornament emblazoned “Believe.”  Perfect!

Several months passed by, and without fail, each time I passed I turned my eyes toward the shrub, believing one day my prayer would be answered.  Then one day I noticed that the once beautiful plant with lush green foliage polka dotted with red was bare.  I gasped.  What happened?!  A few scraggly brown sticks was all that remained.  What does this mean, God?  Certainly my dream hasn’t died, has it?  I believed, God. Why would You allow my symbol of hope to succumb?

I was afraid to share the bad news with my friends.  What did I do wrong?  I heard a sermon about dreams and how those that aren’t watered wither and die.  Had I not worked hard enough?  Or was the death of the holly a natural consequence of physical drought?

When Mother’s Day approached, I asked my daughter, who works for a nursery, to give me a new holly tree.  I decided the new holly would be a representation of rejuvenation, as I planned to leave for a writers conference the following week to learn more about the writing craft and hopefully place my manuscript in the hands of an editor of my favored publishing house. In the busyness of planning to travel, I neglected to plant my new holly but made sure to water it daily.

As I hoped, I was able to hand off my manuscript to a Zondervan editor, who promised to forward it to a children’s book editor at her organization.  Upon my return home, I promptly emailed documents to the editor as requested. 

A month passed and I had yet to receive a confirmation of receipt.  A month passed and I had yet to plant the holly tree.  Where should I plant it?  Would planting it in the same spot where the original holly had died be a good idea?  I inspected the spot.  My eyes widened.  Shiny new leaves had sprouted at the base of the shrub and encircled the dead uprights like a wreath.  My holly isn’t dead!  And neither is my dream.  God is the ultimate promise-keeper.  Forgive me, Lord, for doubting.

I planted the new holly a few feet from the original.  Then I knelt to trim away the dead branches from the first one, whispering a prayer. Thank You, God, for reviving the holly, renewing my hope.  I trust You to make my dream come true.  Then I recalled that the yard ornament, which beckoned me to "believe," also held an inscription on the reverse.  I turned the ornament around and beheld its call to “imagine.” Yes, Lord, I believe You will do immeasurably more than all I could ask or imagine.

Three days later I received an email from the assistant to the Senior Vice President of Zonderkidz, the children’s division of Zondervan. My manuscript is under review.

Dear Lord, thank You for all the ways You remind us (like two holly trees in my yard!) to place our hope in You, for You will multiply our blessings--and do more than we could ever imagine.