It is a brilliant, sunshiny day as I stroll through the forest. My long, ballerina like legs carry me gracefully across grass and dirt as I weave in and out of the sturdy trees. My hand brushes the bark of one as I pass. I breathe in the woody scent of another. This entire forest is filled with beauty and strength, rejuvenating me as I walk. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I see something sparkle. Curious, I turned to find the source and notice a tree far different than any I’ve ever seen.
The tree is still a distance off, but it beckons me to come closer. Forsaking the other guardians of the forest I walk slowing toward it. The closer I get, the longer I gaze upon it, the shallower my breaths become until, for only a moment, no air enters my lungs and no air leaves. I am captivated by its beauty. Reaching out my hand, I touch its trunk. As I press my palm against it, I pull back quickly, shocked by the cold my fingertips. How strange. I return my hand to the trunk and leave it there, letting the cold sink in, enjoying the feel.
The branches move in a light breeze and sunlight causes the trunk to glisten like sunlight upon the ocean waters. It is the breeze rustling leaves, letting the sunlight in that helps me see that this is not a normal tree. In the cracks and crevices between the bark and even up into the leaves, the tree is covered in gold. It is etched into it, implanted, embedded—gold embedded in the bark like the need for love is embedded in the human heart.
Another breeze blows, the clouds part, and the sun shines down on this mysterious golden tree. The sight causes me to giggle; I don’t know how else to respond to such magnificent beauty. I stroke the trunk, tracing the lines of gold and wood, utterly captivated by the sight.
Frightened by the sudden voice, I pull my hand away and twirl around to meet a pair of kind eyes. Caught up in the wonder of the tree, I had not heard the man approach.
“Hello,” I reply hesitantly, easing back slightly into the shadows of the tree, not sure what to make of this encounter. The man shifts his focus from me to the tree.
“It’s a beautiful tree,” he comments, eyes lifting from the golden trunk to the highest, leaf-laden branches.
I turn my eyes on the tree again. “Yes, I was just admiring it. I’ve never seen one like it before.” Wondering if the man might be a caretaker of this part of the forest or a frequent visitor, I ask, “What kind of tree is it?”
The man steps closer to the tree and stands beside me now as he places a hand on the trunk and looks up into the branches. “It’s a Dream Tree,” he replies. “It belongs to someone very special to me.”
He looks at me again and smiles a serene smile. “Every forest has one. It is a special tree that bears dreams in its branches from the time it is a small sapling. As it grows so do the dreams hidden inside. As the years pass and the tree gets bigger, the tree will start to bud and bloom and one day the dreams will be ripe to pick from the branches and share with others. Here.” The man motions for me to follow him around to the other side of the tree. We duck under branches and gently bend a few limbs to pass.
“Look,” he says simply, pointing to one small branch. On that branch is a budding flower, pink and white and beautiful.
“It’s so small,” I comment, stepping closer to get a better look at the flower no bigger than the size of my top part of my thumb.
“It is a dream in bloom. Soon, it will be ripe for the picking.”
I gaze a little longer at the delicate flower on this golden tree until another question comes to mind. “You said this tree belongs to someone very special to you—whose is it?”
With a widening smile stretching his cheeks skyward he replies, “It is yours, my child.”
Surprised, my eyes dart quickly to the tree. I step back and take in its beauty once more as if I’m seeing it all again for the first time. I remember the way I was drawn to it, the way I laughed as I looked at the golden bark and stood captivated under its canopy. I step closer and look at that small pink flower once more as words slowly come. “Then that’s…” The words trail off as if I’m not sure I can even consider the possibility.
“Yes, My child. That is your dream in bloom. But you must be patient with it. Dreams grow in their own time and way, each one different from the next. Be patient. Let it grow as it will, enjoy the beauty as it unfolds, and watch grow into something even more beautiful than this small flower. Watch as it grows even bigger and begins to bear fruit, not only here on this tree, but in your life. Watch. Don’t shy away, don’t give up. It is coming. Wait and see.
“Visit this place often, Child. Come and commune with me here under this tree and we can wait together, we can dream together, and we can watch these dreams unfold together.”
May you be blessed with a new breath of hope where your dreams are concerned. May you begin to see them blossom and bloom and bear fruit in your life. And may God receive all the glory, honor, and praise for how they come to life. Be encouraged, dear heart. The Lord is near and He knows your heart’s desires. He brings all things together in His perfect timing. Be encouraged and live in hope.
Live in His love!