It’s dandelion season again.  Truth be told, in some places and hearts, they never go out of season.  And here this year, for some reason, they’re back with an attitude.  Deep roots that say, “I’m here to stay.”  Those big, ugly leaves that just invite themselves to your next salad.  The bright yellow blooming heralds of spring.  And of course, the seed head that remains the fascination of children of all ages and life stages.

Here’s a cure for all kinds of blues and blahs:  The next time you see a dandelion in all its glory, pick it up and free those windborne seeds to sail into the breeze.  So what if you’re holding a briefcase, wearing a business suit, and late for a really important meeting?  Let it fly!  I don’t care if you’re still snared by the pursuit of an immaculate lawn.  Pull the roots if you must – but be a kid again for a few seconds in the process.

You see, dandelions are God’s version of a helium balloon or a birthday candle. [click to continue…]

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Lord, what are mortals, that you notice them;

mere mortals, that you pay attention to us?

We are like a puff of wind;

our days are like a passing shadow (Psalm 144:3-4).

As this shadow passes across another year, what’s obvious on the playground becomes clearer in life:  the further away from that initial push, the shorter the passes are.

So… [click to continue…]


First Snow

by Andy Wood on February 3, 2011

in 100 Words, Life Currency, Love, Photos

Something charming about the word, “first.”

We remember first loves, first cars, first dates.


Sometimes we remember what others can’t – like first birthdays, first steps…

And yes, first snow.


The first experience of anything significant

Carries a unique mix of curiosity and delight… [click to continue…]

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Gateway to Wonder

by Andy Wood on November 26, 2009

in Exploring the Possibilities, LV Cycle

Nobody uses this gate any more.  But when I was a kid, it was a gateway to wonder.  Just north of my grandparents’ house, across a small pasture, this gate opened the pathway to one of the most fascinating people I have ever known.

On the other side, just across the dirt road, there rested an old log cabin.  And inside that log cabin lived Bob and Pearl McLean.  It was years before I knew their last names.  To my sister and me, they were Cousin Bob and Miss Pearl.

Pearl McLean was the slowest-talking human I have ever known.  [click to continue…]