Patrick pushed the mower across the grass, executed a turn, and repeated the process. Over and over he crossed the lawn with precision. When he reached the far corner of the yard, he wheeled the mower back to the shed and gazed out. Twenty-seven perfect rows. The yard was flawless. He entered the house, plunked three ice cubes into a tall glass, then filled it with sweet lemonade. He grabbed a napkin, wiped the sweat from his brow, and slid open the back door. Sinking down into a deck chair, he admired his handiwork.

            For three years he’d been fighting against nature. He seeded, weeded, and fertilized. And now today, the lush green carpet filled him with pride. No one on the block had a nicer lawn. After finishing his drink, he showered and joined his wife out on the deck for dinner.

            Carrie spooned some food onto his plate. “The lawn looks great, honey.”

            Patrick couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “It really does. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to resurrect it when we bought this place, but all those online articles I read really did the trick.” He pointed out to the neighbors’ yard. “Look at the difference. Their yard is full of weeds and the grass is worn away and matted down where the kids run around.”

            Carrie patted her growing middle. “Our kids will love playing out here. Can you imagine it? Maybe we’ll get a swing set. We could put it back in that corner, and I could watch them play while I’m working in the kitchen.”

            Patrick bit his tongue. The last thing his yard needed was kids trampling it.

            Carrie buttered a roll and laid it on the edge of her plate. “I was thinking. I’d like to have my brother’s family over. Maybe we could have a cookout. The weather has been so nice lately.”

            Patrick grimaced. Those boys would be the death of his lawn. “We’ll see.”

            A few mornings later, Patrick put the coffee on and stood by the back door, inhaling the aroma. What was that? No way. He’d been so careful. He moved closer to the door and peered out, his hand shielding his eyes. There, along the edge of the lawn, grew several dandelions, their yellow heads mocking him. The weeds were encroaching on his perfect yard. He clenched his fists. About to storm out and pluck them up, he froze when a rabbit hopped across the yard. It reached the dandelions and paused, its nose twitching. It snatched up a dandelion in its teeth, gobbling it until the yellow head disappeared in its mouth. It repeated the process, the stems, leaves, and flowers all disappearing.

            Carrie approached. “What are you looking at?” As she followed his gaze, she cocked her head. “Aww. He’s so cute. We’re so lucky to live in a place with wildlife.”

            Patrick considered her statement. “I guess.” He filled his travel mug and kissed Carrie on the cheek. “Gotta go. Have a great day.”
            “You too.”

            Patrick walked out the front door and waved to his neighbors. Little Abbie was in the front yard doing something in the grass. A moment later, she handed a bouquet of dandelions to her mother. Her eyes filled with tears and she hugged her. “Thank you so much. They’re beautiful. Can you help me put them in a vase?”

            As he drove to work, Patrick couldn’t get the dandelions out of his mind. When he pulled into the parking lot, he stopped short. Sure, there were plenty of dandelions in the yards and along the side of the road as he drove, but there, right in the middle of the pavement, a lone flower grew. How on earth did it manage to thrive in such a tough environment?

            He made his way to his desk and considered what God might be trying to teach him. When he first saw the dandelions in his yard, all he could think about was what a nuisance they were. But they provided food for the rabbit, joy to his neighbors, and showed remarkable resilience. Maybe he needed to worry less about making his yard beautiful and more about making it hospitable. He called Carrie.

            “You know how you were talking about getting together with your brother’s family?”

            “Sure. Why?”

            “Give him a call. I’d love to have them over. Maybe we could buy a kickball and have a game in the yard.”

1 Peter 1: 24-25

All people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field;

the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord endures forever.

God, sometimes we focus on making things perfect, but the things we think are imperfections are often what help bring beauty to life. Please help us focus on the right things in life. Not a perfect lawn or a perfect house, but spending time with others and appreciating the beauty right in front of us. Help us to remember the important things– our relationship with You and with others. Nothing else is as significant. In Jesus’ name, Amen.