Dandelion December

Dandelions have always been my favorite flower. I know most people consider them weeds, but they will always be flowers in my heart. By the start of November I was sure I'd seen the last of these little flowers this year. The frost would hit soon, and anything left would perish. I remember being pleasantly surprised to see one or two here or there throughout the month, but I didn't think much of it at the time.

Yesterday one of my dear friends shared her testimony in church. You can read her story here. As I was watching the video about their heartache, Satan started his attacks. "Look at that perfect family. See, if you had started the adoption process immediately after losing William you could have your baby by now." I shut him down just as quickly "This is THEIR story, not mine. God has a plan for each of us, and ours is to wait." It's not been easy, but I've found it easier to speak truth as time goes on. I know we're waiting for God to move. I know that His plan is perfect. That's all that matters.

So what does all this have to do with dandelions? I'm getting there, I promise. I walked home after church yesterday (yes, I walked in December! It was that nice of a day!). As I was walking home I spotted a full dandelion seed ball.

At first I stepped over it and kept walking, then I realized what I just saw. A dandelion in December! Not just a dandelion, but dandelion seeds! Seeds are the beginning of life. Seeds are the promise of hope, that something new will be born. I excitedly ran back and scooped it up. I snapped a quick picture (bottom) and brought it home. As I continued walking, I counted four more dandelions! These were the cute little yellow flowers. I picked one and brought it home, reminded that God keeps his promises. I put both in our remote control holder (top), but the yellow one was missing this morning. Honestly, I don't care. I'm just glad I saw the seeds. I'm hoping to find a spot to keep it this winter, as a visual reminder that God keeps his promises, and there is always a chance for new life. Given how delicate it is I know it probably won't last the whole time, but I'll enjoy it each day it does.