Dandelions

Several months ago, when it wasn’t so cold and rainy and the days were longer, I took my four children, ages six and under, to the park. 

On this particular hazy, hot, humid, mid-July afternoon, I needed a break.  Not only was I fretting about my fatherly responsibilities, but my children were being children.  They wake up early.  They eat.  They poop.  They spill milk on the carpet.  They watch the same shows over and over and over again.  They hurt themselves.  They break things.  That’s what they do, they’re children.  But unfortunately, from my end, this was one of those days when I was in “survival mode”—just trying to make it through the day without any major accidents—until my wife gets home.  When I get in survival mode I get frustrated easily when my kids are kids.  I lose my temper when my son takes a pen and writes on the wall, rather than laughing and appreciating his artistic efforts.  I yell when my daughter tries to pour apple juice in her cup, spilling half of the juice on the floor and half in her cup, rather than looking at the glass as being half full–after all, she did get half of the juice in the cup.

On the way to the park I received a phone call from our local mechanic with the news that our van needed two new tires, a new set of brake pads, as well as a few other parts I had never heard of before, costing somewhere in the neighborhood of $500.  That was $500 we didn’t have saved or budgeted.

“Great!  Just great!”  I shouted with my teeth clenched while punching the steering wheel. 

It had already been a tough week with many unexpected surprises.  Most of them weren’t the kind of surprises we like receiving like those at birthday parties or on Christmas morning under the Christmas tree.  First it was a leaky faucet, then it was a doctor bill in the mail, then our lawn mower stopped working, and now this call from the mechanic to top things off. 

After unloading all four children out of the van, the same van that needed a total makeover, our two oldest children started running towards the children’s play area on the far side of the park.  Looking up I noticed that they had stopped in the middle of the field to pick something up off of the ground.  They were filled with a sense wonder and exhilaration over their newfound discovery. 

Running up to me in utter disbelief, my daughter yelled:

“Daddy, Daddy, do you like our flowers!?  Aren’t they beautiful!?”

A flower? 

No, it’s not a flower, it’s a weed, I almost blurted out, but thought better of it. 

Next it was on to the sand pit.  It had rained the day before and there were still some left over puddles in the pit.  My immediate reaction was to tell the children to go play somewhere else where it was less muddy so that they would stay clean and dry for our dinner plans later that evening. 

This time it was my son who yelled out:

Daddy, lets make a sand castle!!!

“No, lets go play on the swings where there aren’t any puddles,” I mumbled under my breath. 

After “surviving” another hour at the park, I was ready to leave.  I piled all four children back in the car.  A few minutes into the drive, my oldest daughter asked if we could stop at Wendy’s for a .99$ Frosty. 

“NO! We can’t stop for Frosty’s, we have no money!”, I shouted.  As if my daughter had any idea of the incredible financial weight I was feeling that day and as if a .99$ Frosty would break the bank.

When I pulled into the driveway a little later that afternoon, I happened to look in the rearview mirror at our four beautiful children sitting quietly in back of van.  In that moment, I realized how much of the day I had just missed out on and how my children were helping to pull me back to the simple joys in life. 

For most of us when we look at the dandelions scattered throughout our lawn we get frustrated because they are weeds eating up our precious green grass instead of seeing a beautiful flower and a beautiful creation.  When we see a puddle in the middle of the kids playground we see a potential hazard instead of a possible discovery.  When our children ask for a simple treat we see it as a threat to our depleted bank accounts rather than a cold respite amidst the burdens that weigh us down in life. 

Children have a way of pulling us back to simple joy and discovery and play.  Children aren’t caught up in life; they aren’t stressed about making the next car payment, they aren’t frustrated because their co-worker got a raise and they didn’t, they aren’t overburdened with busyness, they are able to see the spiritual in the mundane. 

We make life so difficult sometimes.  If we were only able to see the world the way children see the world, things would be different; life would be different.  If we were only able to see dandelions as flowers instead of seeing them as weeds, we would find more delight, more anticipation, more peace, more hope, more love for the beautiful life we have been given. 

Photo by Viridi Green on Unsplash