I stepped outside early this morning to let my beloved Cockapoo puppy do his thing. As I stood on the deck in the chilly morning air, I noticed my yard was covered with thick patches of dandelions. I smiled, reminiscing about a time my youngest son Waylan brought me a bouquet of these bright yellow weeds. He saw them as a striking floral arrangement perfect for the main lady in his life, his mother. Those flowers sat in a tiny bud vase in my kitchen window until they were barely recognizable. I simply did not have the heart to throw away such an endearing gift from my sweet son. Where some saw weeds, he saw flowers.
As life continually changes seasons, sometimes I identify with the flower: passionate, excited, full of life, and unable to contain my desire for the next adventure.
Other times, I identify with the weed: still functioning with a rare quality of color but a somewhat waffling purpose. Surviving but not thriving.
Then I remember my son—he saw the weeds as flowers. And I glimpse important meaning, transition, and peace. Perhaps weeds are just as—if not more—purposeful as bright booms popping up faithfully each new spring.
Jesus handpicks the lost, the sinful, the broken down, and the spiritually lame. He chooses the weeds. He touches them with grace, giving them purpose, poise, and passion.
Jesus sees the weeds as flowers. My son sees the weeds as flowers. I have learned to see the weeds as flowers.
Weeds do not know they are weeds. They decorate the earth with color, vibrance, fragrance, and a unique brand of simply being.
So are flowers what we should try to be in this life? Or should we embrace the weediness of imperfection, the uncertainty of transition, the heartbreak of letting go, and the ecstasy of moving forward?
It all comes down to mindset.
There is beauty in all things—in flowers and in weeds. The most beautiful bouquet I ever received was only weeds by the world’s standards. But to the recipient, who knew the heart of the giver, it was a tremendous act of pure love.
We can share our all with the One who created us. He is pleased with our meek and meager offerings. Where some see weeds, those with eyes to see recognize passionate flowers that won’t dull, fade, or wither away.
You may feel you have little worth sharing with the world. But, dear friend, your simple weeds may be a glorious centerpiece of hope that propels broken souls forward on a path of healing, passion, and possibility.
by Sarah Lango 
by Kaitlin Chappell Rogers 
