“One, two, three! Blow!” Her little lips pursed as she blew with all her might. The small hand grasped the slender green stem. The sweet air from her breath brushed my cheek.
We watched in delight as the dandelion fluff caught the wind and slowly sailed away. Some pieces flew up into the blue sky, seeming to wave goodbye to the earth below. Some tiny seeds jumped only a few feet and reconnected with the green grass.
“That was so fun, Mommy. Let’s do it again. This time, you make a wish.” I smiled at my tow-headed girl. A mini-me, her love for flowers and nature not falling far from this tree. We laughed and wished for dreams small and large as we continued our stroll through the park.
That day, wishes were made of dandelion fluff.
Fast forward a few years to a family trip to the north. In our exploring and adventures, we came across the same miraculous plant, only tripled in size. “Mama look at those dandelions! We could have even bigger wishes.” True to form, we grabbed hold and we blew with all our might.
The seeds scattered, the wonder remained, and we watched, hoping and waiting that our silent wishes would come true.
It has been years since my sweet girl, and I went for walks specifically to find dandelions. Life gets busy and the days blur into years.
However, on a recent family walk to escape four walls during quarantine, I saw a patch of these small beauties and I smiled. This place where wishes and waiting are made is where we anticipate the unexpected.
In this pause between the wish and the answer, my waiting posture is seen.
I have had a fair share of waiting in my life. Health test results, pregnancies, and job interviews have forced me to pause and find my rhythm. Like many, my waiting posture has been tested throughout the past few months. Before the pandemic, our family was embarking on a change. While the details are not necessary, suffice it to say that we are anticipating different ways of doing things come mid-summer.
I typically am a pretty patient person. However, this new normal has challenged my waiting posture and has caused me to search out a better understanding of God’s call in the quiet. He tells us in His Word to “Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord”(Psalm 31:24, ESV).
As we are called to wait, our struggle can become either self-focused or forward-focused. It is in these moments that our faith is tested, we are molded and shaped on the Potter’s Wheel. I have come to realize that a godly waiting posture encompasses four key areas.
As we wait, we are forced to evaluate and ponder. Esther, a young queen in the Old Testament, no doubt wanted to save her friends and family. However, in waiting for the right time, she had to consider her bravery and abilities. She was able to carry forth her plan with understanding that strength and wisdom would come from God alone.
Esther spent time in prayer and seeking wisdom from those around her. She listened and learned as she hoped in the future. When the time was right, she acted.
Despite what is going on, God promises to walk with those who are His. Psalm 37:34 says, “Wait for the Lord and keep his way, and he will exalt you to inherit the land …”
Part of the waiting involves casting. Casting is the act of “throwing out bait or lure”. This casting means letting go and allowing it to settle.
I Peter 5:7 tells us to “Cast all your anxieties on him because he cares for you.” Part of the beauty of casting is not taking back. When I cast my cares on the Lord, I am trusting that He will take my worries and cover them when His care. My belief that His ways are higher than mine allows my posture to remain secure.
When we cast our cares while we are reflecting, we are in a perfect position to rest. The fisherman who cast, often just sit or stand in their waiting. They anticipate and hope for what is to come. This is the root of our faith.
For a type-A person, this current slower pace of life has challenged my resting. I tend to rest in short spurts. Amid restrictions, I am being called to rest in different ways. To sleep, to read, to work differently, to let go of my expectations. This resting is part of God’s desire for us as women.
We spend a lot of time serving others. While this is important and a call to ministry, God also calls me and you to come. He told his band of followers, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30).
Lastly, my waiting posture demands delight. God’s goodness in pursuing me, in whatever season of waiting I find myself, should bring relief. Trusting that even in the hard, God is my source of wisdom, peace, and hope lightens my soul. “Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart” is a promise we can claim as we wait.
When my waiting posture is one that is eagerly leaning into all that God desires, I learn more about my God and more about myself. This allows me to be further equipped to follow His leading in my life, no matter where I find myself.
So, as you blow your own bit of dandelion fluff and then wait for the answers, lean in and listen. What does our God have for you in your waiting? This reflecting, casting, resting, and delighting are all being used to make beautiful flowers for His glory. His joy is written on our waiting hearts, forever.
Laura Sumpter is a native of the Pacific Northwest. She has been a teacher for over 20 years and she loves teaching children and women of all ages how to practically apply Scripture. She counts her husband and three children as the greatest blessings of her life. When she is not writing or teaching you can find her at the beach, in her garden, decorating her home, or playing with her family. Laura lives each day believing that God is faithful, no matter the circumstance. She desires to express the deep and satisfying hope that only Jesus can bring. You can find the lessons God is teaching her at her blog or on Instagram.