You made me ...

 

You said in a world full of fancy flowers, be a daisy.

You taught me to honor and respect everyone not just by what you said but by your example. I know. I watched you.

You gave me permission to be me. You never made fun of me or shamed me or even used the words “You should…”

You spoke words beyond words, divine meaning, words you didn’t even know you said.

Because you house the divine, and you make sure I know that I do too.

You said I didn’t have to do anything, just heal.

You said if anyone tried to twist my arm, guilt me into doing something, hurt me, make feel less, I was to tell you.

Like a big brother I never had.

Like a dad.

You honored the divine in me, knowing, trusting God’s work inside me, trusting I wanted to be more, knowing it all happens at different times.

The Divine Pace.

The divine in you was so big it flowed out of you, past your skin, past your eyes, out into the world.

So rare.

You understand my introvert-ness, even though you said on the Myers-Briggs scale we were complete opposites and referred to yourself as a “raging extrovert."

You have always been authentic with me, respecting my quietness, while being honest.

Sometimes your words hurt, but they were the precious wounds of a friend. You allowed me to consider them and take my time while firmly standing on truth.

Sometimes you were grumpy, but that was okay, people, even you, should be allowed to be grumpy.

You created the perfect conversation, the one with plenty of back and forth, a good balance of agreement and disagreement, and thought food to chew on for days afterward.

You shared yourself. You were always real. If you were ever fake, I wouldn’t have known it.

And it doesn’t matter anyway.

You gave me hope.

You made me want to learn more, serve more, pray more, love my husband more, love my children more, love everybody around me more (even the difficult ones).

You made me want to be a daisy.

_RHTM_