In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us …
I John 4:10

I was depressed–dejected–disillusioned. I had just found out that John Riley didn’t love me. How? Oh, the very best way–pulling petals off a daisy. Daisies don’t lie. It was obvious that he preferred Mary Jo to me. I had known it all along. But this was the coup de grace!

Remember doing silly little things like that? A rose or a carnation wouldn’t do. A chrysanthemum would be all right. But the very best was the daisy. Best for pulling the petals off one by one and settling the issue of whether he loves me or he doesn’t love me.

He loves me

He loves me not

He loves me

He loves me not . . .

and with each petal that flutters down

we go from floating on fluffy “cloud nine”

to being lower than the proverbial “snake’s belly.”

Do you remember? And every so often we would cheat to make sure that the test ended like we wanted it to end. We’d pull two petals off at one time, or forget (conveniently) where we were and pick up again on the positive instead of the negative. Child’s play.

* * *

But I wonder: Did you ever use a daisy to decide whether God loved you or not? It’s easy. It’s true. It’s wonderful. And I highly recommend it! There’s one major difference, though: The issue has been settled. Go ahead, pull the petals . . .

He loves me . . . (whisper)

He loves me . . . (close your eyes and say it)

He loves me . . . (can you comprehend that?)

He loves me . . . (more than you could imagine)

He loves me . . . me! (amazing)

He loves me.

He loves me . . . (He really does).

By the time you have a naked stem in your hand, the tears will be rolling down your cheeks and you’ll be declaring to the whole world . . .

He loves me!

He loves me!

He loves me!