When Billy Graham died, the first thing I thought of was his wife’s poetry. I can recall countless times in college, crumpled in a ball on my bed, reading her words. I fell in love with neither Ruth nor Billy, but them together. I saw him as this faithful steward of the mysteries of God, and this spitfire woman, willing to follow him yet maintaining her anchored convictions.
Don’t believe me on her spitfire character?
Take note of one their early conversations, taken from Footprints of a Pilgrim.
“I haven’t tried to win you, Ruth. I haven’t asked you to fall in love with me. I haven’t sent you candy and flowers and lovely gifts. I have asked the Lord, if you are the one, to win you for me. If not, to keep you from falling in love with me.”
I started dating other men.
“Either you date just me or you can date everybody but me.”
“I think being an old-maid missionary is the highest calling there is.”
“Women was created to be a wife and a mother.”
“God has many exceptions, and I believe I am one of them.”
Spitfire to the bone.