Dandelion Reminders

God’s glory is on tour in the skies,
God-craft on exhibit across the horizon.
— Psalm 19:1

The other day, this sweet girl and I needed to run to the store. We stepped out the back door to walk to the garage, and she squealed—and I truly mean squeal—Hello, dandelions! She hopped from dandelion patch to dandelion patch (I read somewhere that dandelions are bees’ first spring food, so that’s why I don’t pull them, or so I tell myself…) greeting these weeds that she loves as flowers. A couple of weeks ago we had to come to a compromise that she wouldn’t pick yellow dandelions because of the pollen that would inevitably get all over her hands and then her dress and then her carseat and so on. We made a deal: she could pick the fluffy one and talk to the yellow ones. So here she was, talking to all of them, going from dandelion to dandelion all over the backyard (I am a true friend to the bees, providing them plenty of food source...).

I was struck by her delight. She has no idea that western civilization considers dandelions weeds—she only sees beauty. And she not just sees and appreciates beauty, she engages it, greeting it and talking to it and wanting to touch it. I reached for my phone and snapped this picture of her whispering to the fluffy dandelion she had picked. She had no concept of needing to hurry to the store or wanting to keep her dress clean; all she knew was that she was compelled to interact with the beauty God had blessed her with in that moment.

Driving my son to preschool in the mornings, we always thank Jesus for our mountain. We discuss how much snow there is on its cap and what it would be like to climb. And both of the children wonder at God’s creation, that he would be able to imagine something so big as a mountain! Their little minds dream up the snacks they would need if they climbed it and how they would probably need a sweatshirt to stay warm. Their imaginations are stretched more and more each day as we dream about mountain climbing and then what climbing mountains in Heaven and the new Earth will be like.

And my imagination is stretched, too. Because of the three of us, I spend the least amount of time dreaming. I so easily get lost in the aches and pains, the griefs and grievances, the to-dos and must-haves of this life that I forget to dream, and I forget to engage in the gift of God’s creativity, the gift of his overwhelming imagination. It’s a shame, really, because if he can dream up something as wild and huge as Pikes Peak, and he can figure out a way to save the world through his precious Son, and he can gift me with the most delightful children, what else is he doing that I am just completely oblivious to because I’m simply choosing not to pay attention? I want to be like my baby girl, noticing the vibrant yellow of the fluffy dandelions, which she is convinced smell sooooo good. I want my default to be choosing joy, seeing beauty, and noticing God’s glory even in the weeds.