She Can’t Be 55

Today my precious wife celebrates the conclusion of her 55th journey around the sun. I, of course, celebrate with her. My trouble is my deep cognitive dissonance. I simply can’t believe she is 55. Stranger still, I can’t believe it for two equal but opposite reasons. She is both far too young to be 55 and far too old to be 55.

How, you might wonder, is she too young to be 55? Have you, I might answer, ever seen her? My wife’s beauty is something to behold. Her smile is infectious. Her eyes are intoxicating. Her crown of glory, her hair is lush and full. What is impossible to believe, however, what keeps me up in the attic looking for an aging painting of her, is her skin. Butter. No better way to say it. She has the face of a teenager. She is, however, also blessed with a youthful spirit. She is adventurous, fun-loving, full of laughter. She works hard, and the next day does it all over again. No, there’s just no way she can be 55. I know 55, not long ago having spent a year with it. And she’s not 55.

My birthday girl, however, is not only too young to be 55, she is too old to be 55. How so? In a word, wisdom. I often work from home, which allows me to often witness her working at home. Her work is dispensing wisdom. I listen to her as she does so while homeschooling our boys, or in everyday conversation with them. I sometimes hear her in conversation with various friends in sundry kinds of need. Women wisely seek out her wisdom. What I hear coming from her lips is gold, a wisdom refined. My beloved hasn’t had enough experience to have so much wisdom.

Which she would be the first to admit. Because she wisely understands that wisdom doesn’t so much come from experience, but from the Word of God. She knows God’s Word. She has, wisely over the years, committed to memory more verses than I could count. Better still, she brings them to bear in a way that bespeaks the active work of the Spirit in her life. Never once has she quoted to me a text from the Bible that I had never heard before. Not once. But I am the blessed recipient of hundreds of God’s Words fitly spoken. She has brought to mind and brought to bear exactly what I needed to remember, to believe, to submit to.

Early on in our relationship I bestowed on her this mellifluous nickname- Batnabbus. It means “Daughter of Encouragement” in Hebrew. It is the feminine form of Barnabas, son of encouragement. She surely has that gift. That said, the principle way I am encouraged by her is simply watching her walk with our Lord. If I knew enough Hebrew to do so I’d give her another nickname, whatever the female version of Enoch is. She is a dedicated woman who walks with God. I, on the other hand, am the blessed man who gets to walk beside her. God bless you my love, and happy birthday.