Have you ever noticed that we wish upon everything and anything that is wayward, lost or a once in a lifetime thing? We wish on fallen eyelashes. Those silken hairs that have let go of their rooting ground, been rubbed off in a fit of stress, drowned in a torrent of salt water. Those we wish on. Not the ones that have played it safe, stayed home in their beds. Doing what they’re supposed to, protecting our sight. But the ones that have given it all up, been forced out and thus struck out on their own. That single soldier, stuck on your cheek. Its escape halted, until it is removed to a fingertip. Those same cheeks filled up with a wish, and expelled. Carrying that wayward hair on its journey. That is what we plant our wary wish upon.
These are the things we wish on. A falling star, that streak of light across an otherwise calm and still night sky. It’s a once in a lifetime moment to witness. A star falling and shooting off into the vastness. So we plant our wishes on it. A companion on the star’s journey. Perhaps hoping that it might get that extra boost to go where it could be granted. To be sent into the hands of someone greater who loves us more. Where our wishes are precious, when they are rooted in Him. Almost like small splashes of prayer. The desires of our hearts carried by a streak of light, a silken hair, a fluff from a dandelion.
The simplest items are doing what we are oft afraid to do. Being blown off course with no way of going back. No way of holding on and simply saying “no thank you. I would rather not.” Instead just being swept along to where ever they are taken. Led by the wind, gravity, chance. No way of controlling their whereabouts. Perhaps this is why they are the things we wish on. Because they do what we are paralyzed to do. Let go. Completely giving up control to something stronger. And in our case, someone who knows better. Best. Who knows our heart’s desires before we do. Who provides what we need (not to be confused with what we want). He can be the wind to our dandelion puff. The gravity and chance to our fallen star. We just have to allow ourselves to uproot from whatever vice we’re buried in and lean into His hands held out to us, like wind waiting to hold us up.