As I look across my back yard, there are, here and there, bursts of sunny yellow. I like dandelions. I always have and never understood why some people wanted to eradicate them from the grass. After all the grey days of winter, months of lifeless ground, here are these bright splashes of sunshine everywhere. They just appear.
Dandelions are useful. When I was a young girl in Toronto, I wondered why one of my friends was gathering up all the dandelions she could find. Her mother, she told me, used them to make dandelion wine. I had no idea! The flowers are pretty, the leaves can be used in salad, leaves and roots are high in iron and Vitamins A and C.
Also, they are fun. You can make flower chains or crowns; when they are in seed, you can blow the seeds with a puff of breath and watch them float away. And is there anything more precious than a bunch of dandelions presented to you in the tiny hand of a child?
We love our delicate roses, full-bodied peonies, elegant irises. But, let’s face it, most of us are not hybrid tea roses. Many of us are like dandelions—there are a lot of us and we seem to pop up all over the place. We’re not the tallest or most elegant, but we are useful and fun and precious. Most of Jesus’ followers are not hybrid roses or elegant irises. Most of us are dandelion disciples.
Dandelion disciples don’t need a lot of tending and are mostly happy where they bloom. They are full of joy and ready to brighten anyone’s day. The psalmist reminds us that we are wonderfully made, just like the flowers of the field.
So, enjoy being a dandelion disciple, knowing that you are wonderfully made, you are held in God’s hands and you are God’s creation.