Dandelion Dust

The last rays of a perfect golden fall day were fading into a clear sky.

Standing outside the front door, I've been busy cleaning the garage, sweeping.

In the hustle of the moment I hear a voice behind me saying, "Look, Mama!  Look what I got you!"

A sweet boy voice of the three year old speaks into the crisp air.  I love this voice.  This voice I wish I could wrap in a box and tie with a ribbon to place on my shelf.  Then I could go and open it over and over again. 

I turn and look at this shy smile grinning up in pleased excitement.  In small cupped hands, I see the gift.

Fragile, white fluff connected to a withered stem.

Dandelion seeds.

"See them?  See them?  I got it for you! Here take it!"

And I do.  And I hold the crumbling pieces of fluff and marvel at the beauty of this moment.

Because it's not that I love dandelion seeds.  I don't. 

And really I don't need them.

Or like them.

But I love this boy.  This small boy full of innocence and wonder who has brought me this gift from his heart.

And so I accept this gift and I love him.  But I don't love him because he brought me a hand full of weed-seeds. 

I love him because he is my son.

He is my son and he doesn't have to do anything to earn my love.

I mean, really what could he do for me?  He is only three?

I don't need him to do anything for me.

But these gifts he brings are beautiful because they show his love for his Mama, and his heart is all I really want.

And suddenly I see it.

All these moments of motherhood, telling stories of God, this Father who loves his children unconditionally.

This God who loves, who died to show how much he loved, to show that we never did have to earn this love of a Father.

But for far too long I thought that I could give Him something that he needed. 

He is the Lord, He has no needs.

I thought I could give a gift that was important, but what gift could I, a stumbling three-year old, bring to the ruler of universe, that He wants?

Just my heart.

And all these gifts, they do one thing.  They make Him smile.  They bless His heart because when He looks at them He sees the giver, His daughter. 

He doesn't need them.  But He loves them.

And even though in all my tripping, falling down, running into His open arms, He catches me.

And He takes this handful of nothing that I give, this crushed weed-seeds, and makes it into something beautiful.

He takes these dandelion seeds and in His mighty hands they become daisies and daffodils and who else but God can do that?

He takes all this broken and makes it into something altogether new.

And beautiful.

And this love, it just grows between us.  Me, the broken giver of worthless gifts, and Him the one who takes all this mess and makes it meaningful, beauty.

And I see that He loves me, when I have nothing to offer but my heart.

So, I lean down and kiss that upturned face.  And I say, "Thank you.  I love you, Son"