Dandelions

They stand before me, expectant delight in their eyes, holding out sweaty hands clenching bunches of yellow. Bear and Bella.

“Here, Mommy!”

“We picked these special for you!”

Dandelions fill their hands, picked with love, and a simple beauty erupts in my heart. “Oh, yes!” I enthuse, “Let’s find a blue vase for them,” I say, digging through cupboards, “Yellow and blue go so nicely together, don’t you think?”

“I love yellow!” Bella claps her hands, “It’s such a happy color.”

They stand beside me at the sink, watching as I tuck blossoms delicately in water and make sure their dandelions have taken my prized spot on the windowsill. Then it’s, “Come on, Audrey! Let’s go pick some more!” And they’re off, running past a sea of tulips, jonquils, snap dragons and daffodils to search for more yellow beauty.

I watch them out my window and I am transported back in time. It’s another place, a magical moment in my life. Nine summers ago when it was just Bri and me. I was pregnant with our Ash, and our life is on a road that will change us drastically yet oh so wonderfully.

We are driving to the beach in our hunter green Wrangler, top down, heavenly sunshine soaking our skin, and the music, as always, is blaring. My hair escapes from under my hat as the wind blows tendrils across my face. Bri’s hair is streaked with blond, mine with red, evidence for both of us that we’ve been spending hours in the summer sun. We are tanned and carefree, basking in twenty-something youthfulness; and we are singing at the top of our lungs.

Lord, search my heart,
Create in me something clean.
Dandelions–
You see flowers in these weeds.

Gently lifting hands to heaven,
Softened by the sweetest hush,
A father sings over his children,
Loving them so very much
More than words could warrent
Deeper than the darkest blue
More than sacrifice could merit
Lord, I give my heart to you,

Every time the song finishes, I laugh and hit repeat, and we never, never tire of singing and worshipping. Tears stream from my face but dry instantly in the hot wind, and Bri squeezes my hand. Then I lift our hands in the air, clenched together. I cannot help it. I cannot stop. There is something about feeling the warmth of the sun, the wind, seeing the beauty all around us, and the music. I am worshipping as I have never worshipped before. I HAD to raise my hands to a Creator that created all this. The One Who sees me and sees beauty in my weeds.

Sighing, I return from my revery to see two cherubs bringing me more yellow weeds. And my heart soars with joy and softens with contentment.

Every year it’s the same. I listen all around me as others wish away the dandelion infestation in their yards.

But I love them. When I see them, I see a Creator smiling over His creation.

I often wonder if dandelions came before or after the Fall. I’m sure there are much better theologians than me out there who can answer that question.

But me?

I like to imagine the Garden of Eden full of them!

In a field of yellow flowers
Underneath the sun
Bluest eyes that spark with lightning
Boy with shoes undone
He is so young,
So full of hope,
Reveling in tiny dreams
Filling up,his arms with flowers
Right for giving any queen,
Running to her,beaming bright
While cradling his prize
A flickering of yellow light,
Within his mothers eyes,
She holds him to her heart,
Keeping them where they’ll be safe,
Clasped within her very marrow,
Dandelions in a vase,

She sees love where
Anyone else would see weeds.
All hope is found.
Here is everything he needs

Fathomless your endless mercy,
Weight I could not lift,
Where do I fit in this puzzle,
What good are these gifts?
Not a martyr or a saint
Scarcely can I struggle through
All that I have ever wanted,
Was to give my best to you

Lord, search my heart,
Create in me something clean.
Dandelions-
You see flowers in these weeds.

Gently lifting hands to heaven,
Softened by the sweetest hush,
A father sings over his children,
Loving them so very much
More than words could warrent
Deeper than the darkest Blue
More than sacrifice could merit
Lord, I give my heart to you,

Artist: Five Iron Frenzy
Song: Dandelions
Album: Quantity is Job 1

7 responses to “Dandelions”

  1. I. Love. This. I love dandelions too. Bella is right–yellow is such a happy color!

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  2. I love this! I am now eagerly waiting for my own bouquets once the dandelions appear. For it is almost certain that I will get them.

    And when I do, from this point forward, I will treasure them even more as I am mindful that not only do they come from the generous hearts of my children, they remind me of a gracious and generous Father who sees flowers in the weeds of my own heart. Thank You!

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  3. Sage and her friends picked me bouquets of dandelions yesterday when we went to the park. I didn’t pick them up when they all fell off the stroller as we were walking back home. Thanks for reminding me to see the beauty in everything!

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  4. Ah, dandelions. Well, I have a love hate relationship with them. I don’t like them in my yard. That is the hate part. I do, however, like to see them polka-dotting the landscape. They are the most gorgeous color of yellow.

    My babies have been bringing me fistfuls of spring beauties. I will never ever tire of them. The Man and I actually had a mini argument about whether or not they are weeds. Just fyi, they are not. They are considered wild flowers. 🙂

    I have a vase of them on my kitchen windowsill right now. 🙂

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  5. Okay, I was so wrapped up in the spring beauties that I forgot to say how much I liked this post, and your question about whether they came before or after the fall. Awesome! And the part about the creator smiling over his creation? Yeah, I can completely see that, too. 🙂

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  6. Agreed- yellow is a happy color!

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  7. I love this post! My boys used to ALWAYS bring me bunches of these so proudly. Then daddy went on a massive lawn overhaul to kill the invading dandelions. At that point Jacob learned they are weeds not flowers. And he quit bringing them to me 😦 Zachary still brings them. The other day Zachary brought me one with a huge smile. Jacob said, “Zachary they are just weeds.” I had just read your post, so I replied, “Well, even if they are just weeds, they are beautiful weeds, and I love them like any flower.” He stopped and looked at me very quizzically and said, “Ok…” I”m curious to see if he begins bringing them to me again. 🙂 Thanks for the reminder to see the good in the weeds!

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