Planted in Our Place

Wild Chamomile Thriving on Rain-Quenched Rural Grass

The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever. ~ Isaiah 40:8

Do not be confused because dark thoughts often trouble you, for dark thoughts, like autumn clouds, come one after another and darken everything. But then they pass and the sky remains clear and pleasant. And so our thoughts wander, they wander around the wide world, but the mind remains planted in its place, and then there is quiet, and the soul becomes joyful. But our mind, from wandering here and there, becomes accustomed to the brief but often repeated prayer of Jesus, which God may grant you the habit of saying and then your days will be bright. ~ St. Anthony of Optina

We are all planted in our places. For whatever reason. On a recent excursion I thrilled to discover wild chamomile still popping up here and there, where least expected. Bending down for closer inspection, I spied bustling beetles and ants – struggling – yet dashing determinedly amid obstacle courses of pebbles, fir-needles, twigs and dandelion detritus. Sometimes its hard to consider that even in autumn, a little piece of country ground thrives as a living thing. Organically interconnected beneath the soil, and strengthened through marvellous myriads of neighbouring roots and fungi, we can sense the Great within the small. When we recognize nature’s perfection, its because God is perfect. What joy there is in giving oneself over to a moment in nature… To inhale that especially fresh, spicy fragrance that happens only after a rain… to harvest and store Creation’s nourishing gifts in the silos of our minds. For these blessed memories, tucked carefully away in our autumnal hearts, may be recalled as needed. These sweet seeds of peace and contentment are numinous aids. They are spiritual brooms of beautiful, expectant hope – that sweep away dried, withered leaves and debris from life’s storms and personal obstacle courses. God sees and rewards all our efforts according to our salvation. Let us remain patiently planted in our places, thoroughly engaged – and prepared to bloom joyfully wherever we are planted, offering ourselves unto Creation’s Planter – as a Living Fruition of Spiritual Fragrance!

Little Suns on Stems

Be like a dandelion, whenever they fall apart, they start again. Have hope. ~ Anonymous

Love all creation, the whole of it and every grain of sand within it. Love every leaf, every ray of God’s light. Love the animals, love the plants, love everything. If you love everything, you will perceive the divine mystery in things.~ Starets Zosima, in Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov

Dandelions make me smile. They were the first backyard flowers I ever picked, and seemed like beautiful, brilliant, little suns on stems. My mom lovingly placed many bedraggled bouquets into vases all around our home.

I picked daisies too, and was delighted that when turned upside down, they became tiny white tutus tinged with rosy pink edges. It was the first thing in my young life that I ever coveted… a daisypetal ballerina skirt. Yes, the “clothing thing” starts pretty young for some of us gals.

Fast-forward 50 years to church (this has absolutely nothing to do with dandelions)… where I helped my very young granddaughter venerate an icon. There happened to be an angel in it… an angel with… red shoes. My granddaughter, stood in deep contemplation (which I assumed to be a pious moment), until she whispered fiercely, “Baba, I want those shoes!” But, I digress, and since there wasn’t (to my knowledge), a local Byzantine Payless Shoes Store on this side of the Bosphorus, we can at least agree the gal “clothing/shoe thing” indeed seems inherent. Let us return again to the topic of dandelions.

I remember being around 4, and handing a fistful of crumpled suns to a visiting, elderly relative. Expecting to hear a grateful thank you, she instead recoiled in horror and hissed, “Weeds!”

What on earth were weeds? They sound terrible… horrible! Determined to defend, I stubbornly objected. “But, God made flowers! How can they be bad?” Of course that didn’t fly well with the visiting relative, and although the incident ended in a stalemate between her and I – God won that round.

Later, as a teen mowing our lawn (under duress), I observed how prolific and tenacious those blessed dandelions could be. They even pop up through cement cracks! Wow. Now that’s perseverance! Oh, that I could be just a little like that!

Whether by chance or design, and through a “herby” friend (who’d scoop up chickweed for a chew), I stumbled upon how healthy and nutritious dandelions are (unsprayed of course)! They’re literally everywhere! God created them, and they’re filled with His goodness. Who knows what other exciting benefits they hold? Time will tell.

Meanwhile, a young grandchild recently wove two dandelion-chain crowns, and solemnly placed one of the diadems on my head. We took a regal selfie together… oblivious to the sticky, white, sap dripping onto our bangs.

I thank God, Who, in His Wisdom and compassion, created the noble, persistent, dandelion – and grandchildren.

Here is a super video on “how to” choose and eat dandelion greens! If you pick them yourself, do make sure they’re unsprayed, and not too big. Otherwise they may be bitter, tough and furry! But when you time it just right, they’re amazing!

May your Lenten Journey be peaceful, fruitful, and green.

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