The beauty of a rejected weed

It rained steady all day.


Morning till dark, and long into the sleeping hours. I longed to gather armfuls of the luscious lilac blooms that were bending their beauty outside my windows, under the weight of the rain.


I did so during a brief break in the deluge. But I was awestruck with a different bloom as I traversed with soggy feet down to another lilac patch, by the weathered, cranberry-red stable. In truth, it wasn’t a bloom at all.

I’d never seen my grandmother’s favorite flower in such a light.


I realize most despise the flower to begin with (and yes, George Washington Carver would assure me I can call it a flower, because “a weed is just a flower growing in the wrong place”). Surely not many would find the aftermath of the spent blooms very appealing. This composite flower had graciously, for many days, provided precious juice for the bees, who could dip their thirsty tongues in the hundreds of tiny, complete blooms encased on its simple head.


But today the seeds were exhausted, and the usefulness of the dandelion was long since withered. Yet its beauty captivated me.

In its final stage, this flower that is often defined as a pest, not a blessing, brought beauty to my day and made me whisper a “thank you” to the creator.


I am thankful that God can cause my heart to whisper gratitude for simple things I would overlook on my own accord and that he would choose to display his glory in a humble, rejected weed, not unlike myself. “For all the promises of God find their ‘yes’ in him. That is why it is through him that we utter our ‘Amen’ to God for his glory.” 2 Cor. 1:20


If you have more dandelions around than you can be thankful for, consider these 7 things you’ve probably never thought of doing with your dandelions.

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