Dandelions are weeds.
But I still like them.
A carpet of vivid yellow – spread across the deep green of spring grass.
A chubby toddler-fistful of these blooms is the best bouquet.
Dandelions are beautiful.
But they don’t live long.
And then they morph into those puffy white orbs.
The objects of whimsy and giggly blowing and graceful floating off into the air.
But it’s in the whimsical, giggly, graceful stage that dandelions find their ultimate purpose and fate.
Those are the seeds, transported via wind or toddler breath to assist in the creation of “next.”
I stared at some dandelions today.
They caught my eye as I supervised our dog gingerly picking her way through the front yard grass.
I saw them.
And then I looked closely.
How intricate and complicated and stunning.
An inch-wide micro-universe of potential.
God took the time and care to design and create this amazing thing we call dandelion clock.
How humbling to realize he also took the time and care to design and create me.
And every human being on the planet.
“For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.”
Yes, our lives (in the grand scheme of things) are fleeting and vulnerable, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t complicated, intricate, beautiful beings.
The nuance and detail of our “inward parts” is mind-blowing; mind-numbing.
But, someday we will be gone.
Dust to dust …
On a puff of life’s wind…
And just as the dandelion clock lives its season and then scatters into pieces with the currents of the breeze…
Our lives, beautiful in bloom, can also be seeds that plant beauty, hope, and new growth.
What will grow from our seeds as we assist in the creation of “next”…?