The One About the Daisy

We all like a good origin story, right? We see a new superhero or villain in a movie and we want to know where that person came from. Where did the hero get his powers? What precipitated the villain’s descent into malevolence?

Filmmakers know we have these questions, so they make a point of giving us the answers.

Today, I would like to share a far less flashy but much more profound origins story. Today, I would like to introduce you to The Daisy.

Who is the Daisy?

In the early summer, I decided to act on an idea that I had been contemplating since Angela entered into victory: a memorial tattoo. I didn’t have to brainstorm ideas or struggle with design concepts. The design was already clear in my head—a daisy on my ring finger.

This is a very visible tattoo, so I get a lot of comments. Mostly, they are simple compliments. But more than a few people ask what the tattoo means. Of course, I explain that it is a memorial to my wife. After a word of condolence, the curious usually ask why I picked a daisy. One astute person even asked if her name was Daisy.

All summer, my answer had been that ever since we began dating, I had always referred to Angela as my daisy.

The most curious (and most persistent) would ask where the nickname came from. And this, I confess, is where my memory got hazy. Like the movie heroes we meet in medias res, the origin was somewhere in the backstory, off-screen for now. The Daisy had simply always been a part of our story.

At best, I could share a vague recollection of a vision that Angela had many years ago that involved a daisy. That was it. Until about two weeks ago.

A Fresh Recall

If you follow my feed on Instagram or Facebook, you might have seen a recent post where I shared how God had brought to the forefront of my memory a vivid and detailed recall of the moment Angela became my Daisy.

I should point out that the Lord doesn’t typically give me visions. Visions were among Angela’s gifts—my gifts are elsewhere. Still, my unexpected recall of an evening fourteen years ago in some ways felt like a vision, and was not prompted by anything that had been in my thoughts at the moment.

The Flashback

So let’s take a step back to September 29, 2010. Angela and I were out on our first “official” date, which involved a takeout dinner at a local park followed by an evening worship service at a nearby church. I call it our first official date because we had already been on a couple of dates that we didn’t intend—but later ratified—as dates.

This being the first “official” date meant, of course, discussing and recognizing the status of our new relationship. As we were leaving the church service, Angela asked me, “So … are you going to tell people about us.”

I answered, “Of course! I want to show you off.” For good measure, I waved my hand out in front of me with a wide flourish.

Then Angela told me that my action confirmed a vision God had given her during the church service. In that vision, I stood at a podium before a large crowd. With the same emphatic wave that she had just witnessed, I presented a single daisy to the gathered crowd.

“I guess that makes you my daisy,” I told her. And from that moment on, she was. But having this detailed memory recall now, seven months after losing Angela, a question struck me. Have I done my part? Have I stood at the podium and shown Angela’s beauty to the world?

Why Now?

I took a flyover of my memories. Of course, Angela was stunning on our wedding day (and daises featured prominently), but that was hardly my doing. I was simply the guy who was blessed to stand up front waiting to receive her.

As her husband, I sought to honor Angela by defending her when conflict arose, by never complaining about her to friends or coworkers, and by partnering with her in the tasks the Lord set before us to do. In these areas, I think I succeeded. Still, is that really the same as proclaiming her beauty before a gathered crowd?

I finished my mental flight and returned to the present, where I concluded that my task isn’t finished yet. In fact, it is just starting.

A Writing Update

I previously shared that this summer I began drafting a new book. Most recently, I broke down how I found some flow in my writing by laying parallel tracks across the main chapters.

It turns out, that God brought the Daisy origin story to my mind just as I reached that phase of our history in my draft. But His purpose was more than making sure I remembered a specific event accurately. He was setting the tone for this book. More importantly, He was revealing the purpose of this book.

He is calling me to complete the work that He ordained in Angela’s vision fourteen years ago.

A Little Clarity

God’s timing is always impeccable. I wasn’t sure what to include and what to withhold as I draft the current track—the track that describes our life and koinonia.

Part of my struggle is that Angela was an introvert, perhaps even more so than I am. We’re small-circle people. Our ministry has never been about grand ideas that garner massive attention and win thousands to Jesus. To be sure, God does call people to such work—but those are other people.

Still, despite our small circles, Angela’s light filled the spaces where God used her.

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. – Matthew 5:14-16 (NIV)

Even light for just one or two people makes a difference. If you’ve ever attended a candlelight Christmas Eve service, you’ve seen how passing one small flame, one person at a time, eventually lights up a whole room. I think of how Angela’s funeral attracted a standing-room-only crowd—the sanctuary was filled with the people she had passed a little light to, one small flame at a time.

Carrying the Light

That is why it is so important to share Angela’s story—to finish this book and present to the world a single Daisy adorned in simple beauty. Just as a simple candle can share enough light to brighten a room, a single daisy adds a pop of life wherever it springs up.

Most of us who know Jesus will never be called to grandiose ministries that reach thousands. But each of us is equipped with enough light to carry to the spaces we occupy—even the small spaces—so that the light of Jesus may multiply one flame at a time.