Dandelion Dreams

Yesterday, while taking my daily afternoon walk, I saw two sweet dandelions growing in a little patch of green grass.  I whipped out my Blackberry, snapped a photo, and uploaded it to Facebook.  I couldn't have been more excited if I had stumbled across a secret rose garden in the midst of a concrete jungle.


 I know they are ordinary dandelions. Weeds. Most folks despise them and cover their lawns with poison to prevent them from growing and taking over. I never understood that. How could anyone not rejoice at the sight of these sunny yellow flowers?

Later that evening, I showed my dandelion photo to my guy. He did not share my enthusiasm.

Him:  For the love of God! Why on earth would you take a picture of stupid weeds?

Me:  I love dandelions. I think they are pretty. They remind me of all the dreams I had when I was little.

Him:  They're WEEDS! People must think you are crazy for posting that photo on Facebook!

Me:  I don't care.

Moment of awkward silence.......

Me:  Honey, do you think I'm crazy?

Another moment of awkward silence.......

Him:  I think you're very different.  And you have too many dreams.  Let's leave it at that.

Yeah. He thinks I am crazy. I can deal with that; but how can anyone have too many dreams?

When I was a little girl, we had lots of dandelions in our yard. Occasionally,  my dad would talk about making homemade dandelion wine. He never got around to it.  He worked so hard and was pulled in so many different directions back then.  He really didn't have much time left over for lawn care or wine making.

I saw the abundance of dandelions in our yard as a blessing.  I had an endless supply of free flowers to pick for to my mom.  She would display them in vases on the kitchen windowsill.  They looked like little bouquets of sunshine.  I thought I was special because those gorgeous flowers only grew on my lawn. I had no idea  all the other neighbors used weed killer on their grass to keep them away.

I was completely fascinated by dandelions. They were delicate but strong. They also magically transformed into something completely different. Somehow these little yellow flowers changed to puffs of pure white.  I would sit for hours gently blowing on those delicate little puffs. As I watched them scatter in the warm breeze, I pretended they were tiny parachutes carrying my dreams up to heaven.  God would see them and make them all come true.


Ahhh..... the simple faith of a child. 






Dandelions remind me of my childhood when life was easy and simple things were beautiful. I had big plans and even bigger dreams. Now, my life is half over and it really hasn't gone according to plan. I am okay with that. I am not dead yet. And my dreams? I am still working on them. I've had my share of disappointment and heartache over the years.  I've been beaten and broken and bruised and scarred, but I still have hope and plenty of dreams. I love that about myself.  I don't ever want to stop dreaming or believing my dreams will come true.

 I still pick handfuls of dandelions and bring them into my house. I love when those little yellow flowers transform to hundreds of snowy white seedlings.  I sit out in the yard and blow on them like a little girl. I scatter my dreams on the wind with the hope that someone or something up there will see them.  I know this sounds so silly and childish. I am an intelligent, educated woman, but I fight hard to hold on to my minuscule measure of faith. There would no point in living any longer without it.

Do you have dreams? Wishes and desires for your life? I am pretty sure you do.  They might be hidden in the deepest recesses of your calloused heart and soul. Reach in and grab them. Speak them out loud and scatter them on the wind.  Share them with someone you love.  Dream your dandelion dreams........

And this is my Daily Cyn......