Dandelion Bouquet

I remember the first bouquet of flowers I received from my husband.
Except, he was not my husband then.
We went to all of our high school proms together; I received flowers then as well.
However, that is not the bouquet I mean.

I remember a bouquet that was delivered to my front door.
The flowers were for Valentine’s Day.
They came from a local florist.
We were in college at the time; me in Pennsylvania and my future husband in Georgia.

It’s funny that I do not remember the flowers as much as I remember the hearts.
They were little red hearts on a thin metal pole.
After the flowers had died, I saved the hearts and put them in an old glass bottle.
They were a reminder of that first delivered bouquet.

That was the first of many delivered bouquets through the years.
They were all beautiful and special.
However, there is another bouquet that stands out above any floral arrangement.
I have received many of these bouquets through the years and they are precious to me.

The bouquet would usually come to our back door.
The bouquet was always delivered by a very special person.
There was nothing out of the ordinary about this beautiful bouquet.
In fact, not everyone would have called it beautiful.

I can still hear the light knock on the back door.
I looked out and did not see anyone standing there.
That was because the delivery person was much shorter than the glass allowed me to see.
However, the smiling face and the beautiful bouquet are etched in my memory.

Mommy, I picked this for you, the smiling face would say.
In that instant, a bunch of dandelions would be handed to me.
Aren’t they pretty? The smiling face would ask.
They are the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen, was my honest reply.

Put them in some water, Mommy, the flower giver would say.
Sometimes a Styrofoam cup would have to do.
I also had small mason jars for such an occasion.
No matter the container, the placement of the bouquet was important.

Often, the makeshift vase would go on the kitchen windowsill.
The flower giver would stand there and beam with pride.
They would hug my knees and go back outside.
Sometimes my dandelion bouquet had a few uninvited bugs in the center.

I received wild violet bouquets.
I received small green flowers that looked like shamrocks.
I received yellow buttercups that would have to go in a very small paper cup.
Buttercups would go in the cup of water only after they were held under our chins.

Let’s see if you like butter, Mommy, was always said as if for the first time.
I realized that everyone must like butter since everyone’s chin looked yellow underneath.
The small buttercups actually floated in the water since they barely had a stem.
It did not matter; the giver was still so pleased.

A beautiful bouquet from the florist cannot compare with a dandelion bouquet.
There is something about the impish grin of the flower giver.
There is something about the dirty hands and dirty shoes.
There is something about the fact that the flowers are wilted before they reach the door.

They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor. (Isaiah 61:3)

We are the flower giver standing before God the Father with our dandelion bouquets.
We come to Him with our impish grin.
We come to Him with dirty hands and dirty shoes.
We hold out our wilted offering, hoping He will be pleased.

God the Father beams.
God the Father takes the wilted offering from our hands.
This is beautiful, God the Father says.
As we look at our small offering, we see that it has changed.

In His hand, our wilted offering does not look so wilted.
In His hand, our wilted offering is beautiful.
In His hand, we have changed.
Our hands are clean and our clothes are clean.

We are clean.

We are a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.
We have been pruned, we have been watered, and we have spent time in His light.
There has been much growth.
Weeds in our hands become a glorious planting in His hand.

Corrie ten Boom rescued many Jews during World War II.
Corrie and her family were captured and placed in a concentration camp.
Corrie shared the Gospel and taught many people about the Lord Jesus.
Corrie survived the concentration camp and continued to share the Gospel with others.

When people come up and give me a compliment, ‘Corrie, that was a good talk,’ or ‘Corrie, you were so brave,’ I take each remark as if it were a flower. At the end of each day I lift up the bouquet of flowers I have gathered throughout the day and say, ‘Here you are, Lord, it is all yours.’ (Corrie ten Boom)

Corrie ten Boom took the compliments that people gave her and made a mental bouquet.
She took that mental bouquet and handed it to the Lord.
What may have seemed like a dandelion bouquet to Corrie was a glorious bouquet to the Lord.
The Lord did not see what was in the giver’s hand; He only saw the precious flower giver.

If the flower giver is in Christ, the Father sees the ultimate Giver.
The Father sees His Son, Jesus.
The flower giver is clean when they come to Jesus in faith.
His clothes of righteousness are put on them while Jesus takes their dirty clothes on Himself.

The great exchange takes place.
Dirty hands for clean hands.
Dirty clothes for garments of righteousness.
A bouquet of dandelions for a glorious bouquet for the display of His splendor.

And the Father is pleased.