When you were young, dandelions were anything but weeds. You wore them woven through your hair and tucked behind your ears. You fashioned delicate necklaces and bracelets from their stems and flowers. You rubbed dandelion blush across the apples of your cheeks. You made dandelion stew and picked dandelion bouquets for Mom.
You filled hours and hours with nothing but your imagination and a yard full of dandelions.
“Hello. You’ve reached Marla and Mindy’s Backyard Bakery. What can I get for you today? A chocolate cake topped with dandelions for your daughter’s birthday? Beautiful. Anything else? A dozen dandelion muffins? Of course. Your order will be ready at 4:00. My pleasure!”
You and your girlfriend began the task of turning a mound of dirt and a bucket of water into the most delectable chocolate cake imaginable. You formed and patted until it was the perfect size, shape and consistency. Then came the dandelions—picked fresh and artfully arranged across the top of your creation. Only the fullest, roundest, yellowest dandelions would do.
We don’t play with dandelions anymore, do we? Who has that kind of time? We’ve got families to care for, houses to keep, careers to build, things to buy, places to go…
Why do you think God gave us dandelions? As a reminder, perhaps, to stop and remember what life is really all about. That God and family, faith and friends, love and laughter are the things that are most important. To stop for a moment and consider God’s gifts to His children—sunshine and rain, flowers and trees, breezes and colors.
Maybe He gave us dandelions as a reminder that He will provide for us. As children, we weren’t afraid to pick every single dandelion in the yard, fully confident that hundreds more would sprout up overnight.
As adults, we hoard and we fret, worried that God might not pull through for us tomorrow. Even though He has every day before.
Maybe He gave us dandelions to remind us that we don’t control our lives. We’re afraid of what we’ll happen if we’re not in total control—of our money, our children, our futures. Instead of allowing dandelions to bloom wild and free, we hire people to spray them—to keep them from running away from us, to corral them, keep them under our thumb.
Maybe God gave us pick-and-wilt dandelions to remind us that our lives are short—that all men are like grass and all their glory is like the flowers of the field—that the grass withers and the flowers fall. That each man’s life is like a breath.
We have no guarantee of tomorrow. This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it! Are you too busy to enjoy what God has given you today? The beauty of the clouds, the trees, a child’s face.
Maybe God gave us dandelions to encourage us to come to Him with child-like faith. “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
Kids don’t have inhibitions. They’re not afraid to be themselves—who God made them. No hiding behind masks, keeping their weaknesses and insecurities tucked away. What you see is what you get.
Kids aren’t afraid of what people will think. Not afraid of messing up. They belt out words to a song—making them up as they go.
Sometimes I think kids make better Christians than adults do. They’re not afraid to talk to people about Jesus. It’s simple. They love Jesus and they want others to love Him, too.
What if we praised God with the exuberance of a child? What if we trusted Him with the faith of a child? What if we loved Him—and let Him love us—with the unconditional love of a child?
What are we afraid of? Looking foolish? Maintaining an image? Getting hurt?
Before today is over, bend down and pick a dandelion. Then sit down. Close your eyes. Be still.
Ask God to speak from His heart to yours.