Bill's Blog

As one of the few married couples who work together, Sheree and I often hear the same incredulous comment: “You guys seem to really . . . like each other!” Now that I have a platform to speak, let me set the record straight–Sheree and I really do, in fact, like each other. For whatever reason, we are often asked to tell the story of “how you met,” and “the engagement story!” If you’re inclined, tune into the blog for the next several weeks to hear the story of Beauty and the Bill.

Bill still wondered if he’d ever meet the lady of his dreams.

Through the raging hormones of High School, and the maturing of college, Bill still saw no prospect of romantic entanglements. All of his closest friends had married and even started families.

Bill still waited to even kiss a girl.

As certain as Bill longed for a relationship, Sheree Baker certainly didn’t want any involvement–at all. Living in Little Rock (8 hours from home in Birmingham), enduring a dark season of the soul, Sheree had reconciled herself to a life of being single. “It’s just You and me, Lord,” she’d say, “and I don’t need anyone else.” After a few short, bad relationships, Sheree trusted only 2 men: Her Dad and Jesus. Before college graduation, before moving to Little Rock, before the dark season of the soul, Sheree had spent the summer of 1995 in Glorietta, New Mexico. Her summer of ‘95, combined with Bill’s Italian cooking class of ‘97, would obviously bring them together.

Although they’d never met, Bill and Sheree shared a common passion and career–Youth Ministry. Both had committed themselves to vocational ministry, and both served full-time in churches. Less than a month before the biggest event of the year, Bill winced when a leader backed out of her commitment to help for the weekend. Knowing he’d exhausted all of his possible leaders, Bill panicked. It was a Sunday night when Bill blurted out to one of the members of his Youth Committee, “Martha, I’m in trouble. I’ve had a leader back out on me, and I have got to find someone–and I don’t have anyone to call! Please pray. I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I know a girl you might consider,” Martha began. “Her name is Sheree Baker. We met her a few years ago when the previous Youth Minister took the Youth Group to church camp in Glorieta. My daughter and her have kept in touch since then, and she’s working with Youth and Children in Little Rock. Aside from the event,” taking the motherly tone of a matchmaker, “I think you two would really like each other.”

Bill considered the recommendation, afraid of inviting someone he’d never met. Four days later, Bill attended his second round of Italian Cooking class. During the first session, two ladies had kindly befriended Bill and one of his college comrades. During the second round of classes, one of the ladies invited Bill to dinner. “I’d love for you to meet our Youth Minister,” she explained. “She’s tall, slender, beautiful, and she sings like a bird. Her name is Sheree.”

“Sheree Baker?” Bill asked, shocked.

“Yes!” the matchmaker delighted, “You know her?!”“No,” Bill admitted, “but I’ve heard her name before.” Bill didn’t mention that he’d only heard her name on Sunday. Cooking class fired up on Thursday nights.

In retrospect, Bill couldn’t understand: Why would beautiful, lusty, young ladies not be helplessly attracted to him? He attended culinary classes with another guy/a married woman, shunned athletics for his calligraphy pursuits, listened to Barry’s music [not to be confused with the sultry tunes of Barry White], lived alone, prematurely balded, and didn’t even own a television . . . what more could a woman want?! In the depths of his heart, Bill believed that discerning ladies had abandoned the illusion of “Tall, Dark, and Handsome” for the raw sensuality of “Bald, Pasty, Pudgy.” How could virginal Bill remain single and kiss-less? The Great Pyramids of Egypt, Time Travel, the Origin of the Universe . . . some mysteries simple baffle logic and good sense.