Every now and then in life, a wish has the potential to manifest into reality. Possibly, a plush garden that we are set free in and given free reign to grow and prosper. But in all reality, nothing of the sort comes without a lot of hard work dedication and sacrifice. A short time ago I clearly heard the voice of God telling me that He has extraordinary plans for me…perhaps a stunning garden of my own to dance and sing in if only I was ready….
I saw a vision so magnificent chills prickled my skin to the point of ache. My eyes filled with tears filtered through a colander crafted by Hope. The kind of desire only God’s promises can bring, those created with the purest of gold. The sun formulated shadows on the stunning Wisconsin landscape as I envisioned my dream turning into reality, for as we all know God doesn’t lie. Holding on to the peak that God had just given me, I imagined myself right where my Maker had told me I could be…
But under one very important condition, one that I wasn’t sure I could meet.
I had to give up my last vice, the one that had been plaguing me for the better part of my adult life. My poison, my escape, my greatest lie yet what I oddly considered to be my very best friend.
God clearly told me “no more one foot in, one foot out!” He declared that in order for me to fulfill the destiny He has laid out in front of me I had to stop blowing on the wish flower hoping my dreams would come true. It was time for me to become the wish flower.
Early in springtime, our green grass is filled with bright yellow weeds we call dandelions. Most of us find them to be a hassle, an annoyance, and something that eventually turns into a feathery mess that only creates millions of more ugly weeds.
Each and every one of my four children in the innocence of childhood found such “ugliness” to be a flower that they could pick for me. When my three boys were little they would run to me with a handful of the golden weeds, proudly handing me what they saw as a dozen yellow roses. Of course, my eyes lit up and I kissed them harder than they liked. I’d put those darn, hideous things in a cup of water and place them where all could see. They were flowers from my sons after all.
Recently my youngest child, my one, and only daughter discovered the brilliant abundance of flowers everywhere her eyes could scan! The same glory shone on her face as she picked as many as her small hands could hold to present to me. I smiled and warmly held on to the memory of my older boys doing so as preschoolers and finding myself so blessed that I got to be the recipient of dozens and dozens of dandelions one last time.
As the weeds went to seed I taught my daughter to pick one, close your eyes tight, make a wish, then blow! We had so much fun running in the meadows captivating our wishes and watching them fly in the wind. A few days later my daughter and I were on a walk and she declared with her sweet angel voice: “Mommy, let’s pick the wish flower.” As she tugged on my hand dragging me over to a dandelion that was resigned to nothing but a bunch of white seeds held on by a frail material that would scatter with the slightest of winds, she picked one for herself and then one for me.
“Blow, mommy, blow the wish flower.”
In sweet unison we sent the seeds out to pasture with all the breath we could muster. Fragments of the once robust weed were sent in every direction to cultivate the next season of the ugly weeds life.
I took great pause looking at a stinky old weed through the eyes of my children, and in that moment I realized how similar I am to that “flower”.
Often times I feel less than desirable and misplaced. An annoyance that shouldn’t be adored as a “real” flower, but merely one that only looks like one from a distance.
Standing there watching the tiny buds of future life fly in the sky destined for their landing place I realized that is how God uses us. He takes our “yuk” our undesirable and unlovely things to plant the earth with His mercy, grace, and beauty for all to look on in awe. I’ve discovered through struggle and past turmoil that our past where we no longer live, but where we can be used in tremendous ways.
Of course, the catch twenty-two is we can’t live there anymore if we are destined to do the work God has in store for us. We have to move past the comfortability that holds us back, whatever the last straw is, we have to break free and move into the light and testimony of the calling He has on our lives.
A few days later I did it! I leaped into the arms of promise and purpose giving up my crutch and truly began living, soaring toward the woman God has in store for me. I’m ready for Him to breathe new life into me and blow my seeds all over this world. For every part of me, broken and beautiful is wonderfully and fearfully made and God has promised me that He will use it all for His glory.
For as a daughter of God, I am His wish flower.
My eighteen-year-old son is done, completed, and finished being raised by me. He’s flying out of the nest into a freedom of opportunity and into the light of promise and the guidance of a God who is good and has endless Grace and mercy upon him. Yet he just doesn’t realize how much…just yet.
I am imperfect. We all are. Yet I feel social media is the perfect medium to allow our imperfect beings to show a false reality of what we really want to be seen…I admit it, right here, right now I fall into this category. In the depths of loving the selfie taking, word choice moments that may have formed an unrealistic vision of who I really am, I want to call myself out, to let you see a glimpse of true reality.
The term daughter can bring an uncertain sting to a girl who has begged and pleaded for an eternity to be loved by the hand that created her. At the feet of their own father they cry out, “love me, see me, want me.” But when their cries are fruitless there is a question of validity and an intense breach of trust being forged and often the opening of a lifetime wound.
Overcoming odds, fulfilling destinies... 