Several years ago, I told my brother I was going to write a book about my wife and title it My Proverbs Thirty-Two Woman. He quickly, but kindly, reminded me that there are only thirty-one proverbs, not thirty-two. I told him there will be thirty-two by the time I finish writing my book.
Actually, this book will never be finished. The impact my beloved B. A. made on my life will last my lifetime. I will be writing about her as long as I live. How can you finish a book when a new chapter is revealed every day by a memory? You can’t. It is not possible. But what I can do, which I’ve chosen to do, is write as much as I can for as long as I can.
June 9, 1960, was a good day for me. I was almost twelve when my future covenant partner was born. In early childhood, that is a ginormous age difference. In the initial stages of our relationship, I would have random thoughts like these: I was in the sixth grade when she entered this world through the birth canal. I was graduating from high school when she was six years old. When she was a senior in high school, I was thirty, a Vietnam veteran, married with three children, and had been pastoring for six years. I remember on one occasion saying to her, “I sure wish I had met you thirty years ago.” What she said in response was funny but sobering: “You would be in jail.” That had never crossed my mind until then.
It was going to take many years and a lot of hurt and pain before I understood how important this June day in 1960 would be for my life. The words of Jeremiah must have been written just for me. “For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord. ‘They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope’” (Jeremiah 29:11 NLT).