Dandelion Wishes

My life has been full of dandelion puff-balls lately. I've always been particularly fond of these, though they mean rather unkempt-looking lawns and more trouble than most gardeners desire. And yet, I can't help but love them, trouble though they are. For all their weediness, I've always found them beautiful and inviting.

For one thing, there's something about how tangible and physical they are. They beg to be picked and no one will object because, of course, they're weeds. And so, I pick them. All the time. For the last two weeks I was at school, there were hundreds of dandelion puff balls absolutely everywhere, and especially near the prayer chapel (which is incidentally, one of my favorite place on campus). So every time I walked past that part of campus, I picked myself a puff ball. I felt it in my hands, cupping my fingers around the delicate seeds that sometimes look like sunbursts. I kept it intact as long as possible, protecting it from the wind lest it disappear even as I carried it. I touched my face with it, feeling its softness and itchiness at the same time.

I used to be very silly about dandelion puff-balls. I used to look for only the biggest, roundest, most perfect ones with the long, thick stems that were durable and sturdy. I think I used to like those because their delicate perfection appealed to me. When you wish on the perfect ones, it feels more likely that your wish will come true. But lately, I've liked the small ones, the imperfect ones with a few seeds already missing. And for the same reasons--it seems like they're saying, "I can't promise much. Your wish may not come true. But you can try and wish on me anyway." (My friend Libby says that for all my rationality, I'm utterly romantic. I guess I'm okay with that.)

So my life has been full of imperfect, "no promises, but you can wish on me anyway" dandelions. I've had a lot of wishes that just don't come true like I hope...

BUT--I think the thing I like most about dandelion puff-balls is that they were created. designed. by the same God who created and designed me. He knows the wishes that I blow to disperse the dandelion seeds. He knows that my heart can sometimes be as delicate as the round white balls of dandelion beauty. And when I remember all of this, I am put at peace to see the dandelion seeds fly every which way by the wind. Whether wishes or prayers, my God knows them all.

Notes to Self

1. You get better service at Payne's when you wear a dress.

2. Professors aren't half as much fun as their kids.

3. Be concise.

Rules

Someday, if I ever have a house of my own, I will have a porch. And on that porch will hang a swing. And from that porch swing, I will watch rainstorms.

Rule #1 in Elena's household: rainstorms must be watched from porch swings.

Direction

When God does this, it's astounding.

Just Be

Hold your breath.

Wait for a single moment…that’s life flowing along, brushing against your cheek like a breeze. Don’t rush. You don’t have to catch up with it. Sweet mercy, it’s certainly not something to be contained and held back. The more you chase it, the faster it will flee from you.

No. Rather, stop. Close your eyes. Walk a tiny bit slower and look around you. Crane your neck to look at the clouds so far above your head. Bend down and touch the dandelion before the wind breaks it apart. They say the lake water is dirty, but I’ve seen it sparkle in the sunrise. Put it all together and savor this.

Have you ever left the party early so you could walk the long route home? All alone, by yourself, letting the silence speak to you. Maybe you won’t see anything new, but maybe you’ll see it in a new way. Better yet, maybe its familiarity will be like a still, small voice whispering words of peace to your heart.

Elijah expected God’s voice to come from thunderstorms or hurricanes. But when I read of how the Creator of raging winds and lightning bolts actually spoke to the prophet in exile, I am almost certain that Elijah had to stop breathing for a moment in order to hear what the Lord God Almighty had to say.

I love that our Savior was a man who sought solitude. And I feel closer to Him when I’m sitting alone on a porch swing in the dark and the silence and the solitude. Or when I lie down on the dock and look up at the stars. Sometimes I can’t help but break the silence just to say to the rest of creation, “my God…my God created this.”

Life is not “what you make of it.” The best things in life won’t come from chasing, chasing, chasing. Rather, they are the things that you stumble upon, the things that come so unexpectedly. The things that are given, not won, are the things that you will most love when you look back on your years.

Chaos, rushing, pursuing…these culminate in some concept of achievement that rarely satisfies because, when we were clamoring after whatever it was, we hardly had perspective of what life should really be like. No, it’s when we mosey along, walking slowly and taking everything in that we see the world as a whole, as God made it and as He has given it to us. But you must take a moment to put everything else aside and absorb it as it is.

Don’t talk. Don’t say anything at all. The Creator of Life is trying to speak to you. Don’t interrupt.

Say Something

In my own journals and other writings, I've said a lot about wasting words. We are superfluous in our praise to the point that it is almost meaningless. We talk to fill space rather than being purposeful to convey truth. "Be worth the words you use to say what's on your mind."

And yet, I am so guilty of this in my life. I am hasty in my criticism and shallow in my praise. I talk for the sake of talking.

In the past few weeks, I've become very aware of what I say because I've actually not said very much lately. I've been bogged down with work and when I'm bogged down, I become very quiet. I don't like to talk much. Even this neglected blog and my abandonded journals demonstrate how I've given up on words lately. Oh, words, words, words. Try just being. When I'm as exhausted as I've been these past couple weeks, silence is more significant than sound. Solitude is more intentional than the "community" I sometimes find myself in.

Maybe that's the way it should be sometimes. Seek silence, enjoy solitude, meet your Father in the still moments of life. Peace, be still. Love the people around you, but sometimes, take a moment to put everything away for a little while.

There is an ethical aspect to our communication. Speak truth. With your mouth, with your actions, with your very life. Be succinct and clear. Tell people you love them and say it with meaning. Enjoy the moments of silence and solitude, and when you do say something, let your life speak it in truth.

A Poor Man's Suit

I'm not afraid, just dress me up in a poor man's suit.

I won't be late but I'll come out singing,

I'll come out singing.

Every word that I sing I'll sing it for you.

Yes, there are times

when I could not recognize your voice

And times

when I could barely sing or say anything at all

Every word that I sing, I'll sing it for you.

Oh, every word that I sing, I'll sing it for you.