Dandelion

Like a blank page covered in the remains of things once written.

Scratched out, hastily erased.

Gone from the slate but still a faint, lingering memory.

The good and the bad, the elating and the fear-inducing.

Both seem quite mellowed in these present moments.

Depth is a much bigger leap than it seemed in days past.

Trust is a tiptoeing ballet.

An attempt to reach the pillowy carpet at the end of a glass covered hallway.

I desperately want to take the plunge.

To dive headfirst into the abyss of the unknown.

Eyes wide open for the mysteries that lie beyond.

Yet my feet...they wait.

They pause and remember.

Receiving once more the fullness of this carried load.

The pressure that escalated to the verge of collapse.

Back to baby steps we go.

Toddling around this foreign terrain.

Grateful simply to avoid sharp corners and obstructive pitfalls.

A reversion to the early days.

The natural rhythms of movement imprinted upon hearts of young and old alike

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Biblical Context

Dandelions are some of the most abundant flowers in the world, sprouting up in lush fields and waste plants alike. Their use ranges from cooking to medicine to children's toys, all wrapped up in a small bundle of fluffy white fibers just itching to blow about in the wind. I picked them as the face of this poem for their ephemeral qualities - the "here today, gone tomorrow"-ness they carry in seasons of bloom. After a hard wind only the tiny green stem is left behind, a faint reminder of things once experienced.

I wanted to write something that captured this concept of remembrance, particularly the remembrance of difficult seasons. How do we move through grief, carrying the memories of pain and suffering, toward the promise of joy and restoration? What does it mean to feel nothing and everything all at the same time? When it seems like innocence has been polluted by the harsh realities of sin, how do we fearlessly jump once again into the rivers of God's grace?

In all honesty, I don't have most of the answers. I'm still very fresh in the processing of my own grief but of this I am sure: the Father is near. He's made a way out of the hurt and into the Healer through His Son Jesus. We are children in His eyes, always learning what it means to step, to wait, and unfortunately even to wander. But He waits for us, sending the wind of His Spirit to guide us back to greener pastures. His nature is imprinted upon our hearts - a constant reminder that He will never abandon those He adores.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that people will fear him." ~Ecclesiastes 3:9-14