DANDELIONS--AGAIN

Here they are: a dandelion family waiting to be evacuated from a lawn. My fingers and poker-tool are not their only enemy. You learn something every day, and though I don't hang around with folks with vibrant green thumbs (real smart gardeners), I've discovered that I can battle my lawn's dandelions without products bearing skull-and-crossbones warnings on them. The natural remedy: vinegar. More accurately, “horticultural vinegar,” which is 20% acetic acid as compared with the 5% acetic strength in my kitchen-cupboard vinegar. Here's the method: using vinegar to get rid of dandelions in lawn - Search

If only “weedy” human relationships were as easy. Often, no matter what is done to help or placate them, it's never enough. Seems that no matter how much one tries to sow “grace,” “friendship,” or “helpfulness,” with some folks, it doesn't help. Still, as Christ-followers, we're to follow His example in planting “good” even where soil is unfriendly. To bloom where we are planted.

St. Francis de Sales (1567-1622), Bishop of Geneva (here's its history: Diocese of Geneva - Wikipedia ) is credited with that saying (“Bloom where you are planted”). In recent decades it enjoyed revival through the broadcasts of Paul Harvey and art of Mary Engelbreit. But sayings with the same thoughts are found throughout scripture. Sometimes that was history, like God's instruction to the Israelites to “settle in” with homes, gardens and families during their exile in Babylon (Jeremiah 29:5-6). The book of Psalms opens with a similar scenario, comparing a righteous person to a tree planted near a water source, growing and yielding fruit.

What if you think your “ground” isn't compatible to blooming? The apostle Paul said to learn contentment in every situation (Philippians 4:11-12). Do the right thing. Don't crumble if things aren't perfect.

Ironically, it's the very robust, prolific dandelion that runs counter to our culture's perception that a lawn must be lovely, velvety, and free of yellow-blooming weeds that “die” to self-propagating fluff-heads. But last I checked, nobody in history has enjoyed a perfect, velvet-green life. Life comes with times of storms, drought, cutting-down and unwelcome weeds (hardship, difficult relationships). But still, we are to bloom. As one example, I think of Joni Eareckson Tada. She could have turned her broken neck and invalid bed into grump's coffin. But she didn't. She turned paralysis into praise. Weeds into wisdom. 

And remember, dandelions can be pretty flowers for a little child to pick for Mommy. They don't prick like thorny roses, and their flying offspring or the  left-behind weed root can faithfully regrow another sunny bloom. Maybe—like life's negative relationships and difficult times—they aren't what we planted. But we can still shine forth—with the hope rooted in our faith in a generous, all-knowing God.....who deemed a lowly plant worthy of a bright and cheery color.

THE 'LION, THE SNATCH & THE YARD-ROBE

 Apologies to C.S. Lewis (author of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe) but I think of this parody title (my invention!) of his famous allegory fiction  when spring comes. The warmer weather brings the emergence of lawn dande-LIONS that I try to SNATCH before they seed out to turn my YARD into a fluffy white ROBE of reproducing, winged seeds. Yes, I know they're pretty little flowers for little children to pick for a bouquet for mommy or grandma. (I've been blessed this way by earnest little hands.) They're fun to blow to the winds. Can't you just hear that fluffy little head saying, “Whee, free ride to another home”? But, not “pretty” for my culture's gardening ideal that considers the dandelion a weed.

So, I am thinking....do I cultivate spiritual dandelions in my life? When my heavenly Lawn-Keeper is at work in the garden of my soul, am I letting weeds like anger, resentment, discontent, slander, unfounded suspicion and such negatives sprout and spread? One sage remarked, “If you ignore little things, they'll become big problems.”

I think that fits right in with the Lord's pattern for prayer that includes “forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.” It calls for sweeping the "attitude dust" out of the heart-house, determined to minimize more re-entering. It means plucking out deceptively pretty blooms of “it's all about me” to clear the landscape for the beauty and purity of Christ to show forth.

The Prayer also includes this petition: “Lead us not into temptation,” avoiding sinful choices and attitudes which could flourish and spread. Tending the spiritual life calls for tenderheartedness regarding words and behaviors that shouldn't be. Then, an earnest desire to have God lead us away from tolerating the rogue attitudes and actions that don't belong in the garden (or lawn) of our souls.

So, apologies to C.S. Lewis for tampering with the title of his famed “Narnia” fantasy fiction. It was part of parent/childhood reading for my son and daughter. Not only had I previously read the series myself, but back about 1980 I saw the actual Lewis family wardrobe (stand-alone closet) made famous as an imagined entrance to “Narnia.” Purchased in England, brought to the U.S., it was then located in a dedicated archive room of the Wheaton College library. A photo of it here:

cs lewis wardrobe at wheaton college - Search Images

QUICK GOLD

 

When winter's grays and browns yield to the warmer days of spring, our landscape is quickly splashed with bright yellow, among the first vibrant hues of new vegetation. Without intending to insult lovers of tulips and daffodils, you have to admit that dandelions burst in happy profusion after their long winter's nap. I can remember when my then-toddler children went out to the lawn to pick “bouquets” of the lawn's dandelions for Mommy. Beauty to their little selves, to the world they're weeds. The other day I drove by one of our schools and noticed the lawn a mass of yellow, soon to be mowed and tossed away.

American poet Robert Frost (1874-1963) noticed the same thing when he wrote of how “spring's first green is gold.” Fall has its gold, too, when the season turns the green leaves gold, russet, red and brown. But spring's gold is vibrant, alive. A yellow that's short-lived.

I confess to being guilty of making unlikely “connections,” and this time spring's abundant display of dandelions brought to mind a little old faith-song, “Brighten the corner where you are.” Probably my mother (born 1919) sang it, as did her her mother, and who knows how far back. Hymn histories credit the song to Ina Ogdon. (“Ina” is an Irish form of “Agnes,” which means “pure.”) Ogdon lived 1872-1964—just about the same interval as Robert Frost. She is credited with more than 3,000 hymns, anthems, cantatas, and miscellaneous verse. But she shirked publicity, saying God gave her the songs and without Him she could do nothing. No doubt, if you went to church or Sunday school as a child, you sang its chorus:

Brighten the corner where you are (2x)

Someone far from harbor you may guide across the bar;

Brighten the corner where you are.*

Probably like me, you've run across people who don't brighten the corner of our lives. They're touchy or prickly, like thistles. (Hopefully, none of us could be compared to the infamous “corpse flower.” It blooms once a decade with a putrid, rotting odor! See: Why Titan Arum, the Corpse Flower, is so Popular | Nature and Wildlife | Discovery )

I'd rather be a dandelion. Though short-lived, they're cheerful as our long, gray winter welcomes the change of seasons. And they remind me, as Ina Ogdon wrote, to brighten the corner where I am.

*Review all the verses and Mrs. Ogdon's biography here: Brighten the Corner Where You Are | Hymnary.org

BRIGHTENERS

She was forty years old in 1912 when she wrote a cheery hymn with the catchy refrain, “Brighten the corner where you are.”  Though not found in many hymnals any more, a lot of folks can still recall part of its opening lyrics and chorus:

1. Do not wait until some deed of greatness you may do,
Do not wait to shed your light afar;
To the many duties ever near you now be true,
Brighten the corner where you are.
Refrain:
Brighten the corner where you are! Brighten the corner where you are!
Someone far from harbor you may guide across the bar;
Brighten the corner where you are!
2. Just above are clouded skies that you may help to clear,
Let not narrow self your way debar;
Though into one heart alone may fall your song of cheer,
Brighten the corner where you are.
3. Here for all your talent you may surely find a need,
Here reflect the bright and Morning Star;
Even from your humble hand the Bread of Life may feed,
Brighten the corner where you are.

Ina Duley Ogdon (1872-1964), granddaughter of a Methodist minister, would live through the Spanish flu epidemic of a century ago, the Depression, two world wars and the Korean War, the polio epidemic, and more. She wrote more than 3,000 hymns, anthems, cantatas, and miscellaneous verse—all with the humble acknowledgement that God gave her the gift of lyric-writing and without Him she could do nothing.

This lone dandelion spread its cheer in my strawberry planter!

The other day on a walk, as I witnessed the proliferation of spring’s dandelions, I thought of people like her. They bloom for a while with cheerful brightness, then allow their legacy to go where it will—much like dandelions release their helicoptered seeds to bloom again. Wouldn’t you know it: the internet has several sites for sayings and poetry illustrated by dandelions, either blooming or releasing their seeds.  Here are some:
In a world of roses, she chose to be a dandelion. 
Wise sayings often fall on barren ground, but a kind word is never thrown away.
Some see a weed, some see a wish.
Life is a balance of holding and letting go.
Give thanks for unknown blessings already on their way.
Then, there’s one of my favorite proverbs:
A generous man will prosper; he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed.(Proverbs 11:25) 

I wonder if one of the better outcomes of the fears and stringent rules of the Covid-19 crisis has been a renewed appreciation for the grace of sharing and caring.  Even while confined with “social distancing,” people have made efforts to reach out and spread cheer. Like sunny dandelions, flinging the seeds of spent beauty out to be replanted elsewhere. Brightening the corner...where they are.

Roots and blisters

I made a blistering attack against our lawn dandelions the other week.  Yes, “blistering,” for my garden “poker” gouged a large, painful blister in my palm. Despite my best efforts, most of the roots broke off mid-way down, giving then a second chance to bloom. Indeed, they did, their sunny heads turning to airborne seeds that laughed “Gotcha” before I could attack the offspring. Oh, those rascal roots of our fallen, weedy world. I’m grateful the Bible gives us another picture of good roots: “I pray that you, being rooted and established in love…” (Ephesians  3:17).
 

Rooted in love.  That was big on Paul’s mind as he reflected on his ministry of taking the Gospel message to Gentiles—that is, the rest of the non-Jewish world. I like how the Amplified New Testament  opens up the English equivalents of the original Greek of this text:  “May Christ through your faith [actually] dwell—settle down, abide, make His permanent home—in your hearts! May you be rooted deep in love and founded securely on love.”

I recently read a helpful word picture of “rootedness” while reading Leighton Ford’s book The Attentive Life. He told of the day he and a friend took a hike and came to two hardwood trees perched on top of a large boulder. Unable to draw sustenance from rock, the trees had grown a long root system that snaked over the boulder to the soil below. “As we looked at this ingenious root system, it seemed to pose a question: What is the root system of my life?  Is it deep and wide and long and strong enough to withstand the pressures of each day?" (The Attentive Life, IVP,2008, p.82).

 

Paul adds to the picture of “love roots” in this passage:  “Just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness” (Colossians 2:7).  The result of “love roots” is the flower of gratitude!  I re-read that verse after an blistering encounter with an ungrateful person who has some significant "anger" roots. That person's high on my prayer list!

But thankful for dandelions? Okay, I can find some reasons. They're  a cheerful yellow that begs to be picked for a bouquet for mommy.  Doing that is a rite of passage for little children, right?  Plus, I’m due to teach my toddler grandson the fine art of blowing off their woolly seed heads. I’ll try to time it so the wind doesn’t blow them into my neighbor’s yard!