Lessons of the Dandelion
consider the lilies of the field… (matthew 6:28)
When our children play; they learn. Play is their work. You see it when they build towers and tracks and they line up dominoes and cups; they dig in the sand and build castles and ditches; they explore and discover and when we, boring old grown-ups watch our children play, we learn about life; theirs and ours. And for those moments when we’re totally dialed in, there is magic around the corner and we are changed.
We were walking home from the park when Emma Claire started searching for the last remaining dandelions. I was getting frustrated because it was bath time and bed time and there were stories to read and teeth to brush and just come on already. But then I remembered. And then I stopped.
The yellow had long since faded. These were just tiny balls of puff. She takes one huge, long breath, cheeks chubby and red with air and she blows.
Long and hard and the seeds fly and the puff goes poof and there is glory in her eyes. It is magic. And the Lord speaks to me right then and there and I heard him.
“I make all things beautiful.”
The ugly people; the ugly hearts; the ugly weeds. All things. Redeemed.
Beauty from ashes.
I wish I had a picture of all those seeds flying back into the earth; a picture of her eyes wide and grateful and so clearly aware of the beauty around her, but I don’t. And it’s just as well because behind the camera lens, I might have missed it.
I did however, snap a few shots from earlier in the day. Celebrating with friends, the start of school. They worked; they played; they danced for the camera and how blessed am I to have been invited to the party.
“When the dust has cleared, we will see the house that Love rebuilds.”
“In the way that you always love me, I rememeber He does too.”
“I remember. He does, too.”
Raising Magnolias 