In all the scenarios that I’d played out in my imagination over the past several years, none of them involved what came to pass on the day one of my dreams came true.

My precious student, Jonathan died December 4th from complications related to his brain tumor treatment.  That afternoon, I arrived home to find an envelope waiting for me from my agent, Rachelle Gardner. It contained my first-ever book contract from Abingdon Press for my novel Walking on Broken Glass. What sweet sadness.

I couldn’t help but think about Jonathan rejoicing in heaven and maybe his making sure that envelope arrived the same day so I’d rejoice as well. That’d be just his style.

Even before Jonathan was a student in my sophomore English class, I knew about him. I’d taught his older brother, Michael, who is now studying aviation, when he was a junior.  So, years later, when Jonathan appeared in my class, I wasn’t surprised by his deep faith and passion for Jesus. I’d seen it in Michael years before.

But while Michael tended toward serious, Jonathan bounced toward everything and everyone. I’d observe the “coolest of the cool” kids in class as they’d watch Jonathan “work the room” greeting students, giving away hugs and smiles like he’s just won them in the lottery. Whatever skepticism they harbored soon set sail because, regardless of how lovingly goofy they may have thought Jonathan was, they were magnetized by his transparency. No one could ever doubt that he was genuine. Jocks, preps, skaters, nerds, divas, geeks and goths–none of those labels mattered to him. He saw their souls and won their hearts.

One of my prayers as a writer is that my books, as Lisa Samson says about her own, “let people know that they’re not alone.” I want people to know that life is messy and scary and confusing, and yet we find joy in the chaos. And somehow God uses it all to clear the path for us to seek forgiveness and see goodness in ourselves and others.

I thought about my yearnings as a writer as I read the guest condolences posted for Jonathan. Condolences from Louisiana, Kentucky, North Carolina, California, Florida, Kansas, New York, Iowa, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Mississippi, Georgia, Oklahoma, Texas, Virginia, Ohio, from Australia (Adelaide, Newcastle, Kalgoorlie, Brisbane), from England (Devon and Surrey), Scotland, Canada, and the United Arab Emirates, Dubai. Many of these people knew Jonathan only from his many conversations on a theology website. But their commonality was Jonathan had touched their lives. And he was barely 17 years on this earth.

So, there was lesson that Jonathan taught me.  I must dare to be afraid so I can trust I’ll find courage. Because to reach out to others, I must first reach within myself. And whatever gifts God has granted me, I need to spread them lavishly. After all, what’s the purpose of a gift that’s never opened?

Once again, looking back on my writing journey, I see the threads that God continues to weave in this tapestry of my life. At the recent ACFW Conference I’d met Barbara Scott, the Senior Acquisitions Editor for fiction at Abingdon. The night of the banquet she sat at our table, and we shared stories about moving and houses and parenting. I enjoyed Barbara’s wit and insights, so I’m thrilled that God has placed my book in her hands.

Rachelle called me, on a school-day Thursday at 11:44, to tell me that she’d sold my book. After the tears and the jumping [and the oxygen needed after the jumping], I began to understand the meaning of surreal. Even today, knowing that in the Spring of 2010 I will be holding a novel with my name on the cover is both astounding and humbling. God is truly amazing.

While I’m on this road to publication, I’m picturing Jonathan running cross-country as he used to do at school. Only now he’s on the streets of heaven, and he’s surrounded by the wisdom of the ages.

He crossed the finish line first, but I have no doubt he’s cheering me on.