1978. My next door neighbor John, like a brother to me growing up, he had his license and a brand new brown-metal-flake-colored Ford Pinto. (I was to procure one-uh these a year later…a 1973 Pinto Runabout with a Landau vinyl roof and a crank open sunroof. I bought it for $500 in 1979. It had a rust hole clean through the drivers door and the body was surface rusted all over.
I learned a lot because of that car. I bought automotive paint from the local NAPA store and asked a guy I knew who owned a body shop in my hometown (I knew everyone, its a small town) if I could use his paint bay. He said yes and I stammered and stuttered that I’d have the car over there the next week.
I repaired the hole, sanded off the surface rust, removed the trim etc. that I could and masked off the rest and I painted that dang car myself. Then I installed shag carpet I’d picked up as remnants. It was heavy shag with three colors, brown, black, and white. The car was baby-shit green when I finished. Green is my favorite color, but not that shade.
John and I drove all the way to Baltimore from Ohio to stay with his older sister who was married and lived there. Saturday Night Fever was in the theaters and John and I attended a showing.
It was profound to us, and we never stopped repeating the line (with progressively increasing volume) , “its happenin!” ITS HAPPENIN’!” ITS HAAAPPEEENIN'” then laughing uproariously.
Been some time since I wrote about Beth Moore. I’ll just go ahead and blame my irrelevant introduction and poor segue on that if you’ll let me.
I signed up on Twitter today, empathologism, and Russell Moore as well as Beth Moore were two of the recommended folks I follow. So….I did. I then followed Beth back to her blog and found this.
If “women” can be worked into a Christian-ish story and exalted separately, they will be. A friend at work and I were discussing sphere type issues today (a 35 year old man, Christian raised, attended a Christian university, Christian wife, and a very grounded and balanced young man) and he came to a conclusion I was glad to hear him reach. Because he is a conscientious listener and considers things without flinging programed responses, he is the rare man who sees red pill truths without experiencing trauma. He realized and stated that Christian marriages are likely less happy than secular ones, and that marrying a Christian woman is statistically a bad move in terms of family permanence. Secular folks are also not immune to the gushing over all things woman.
Pharrell Williams can’t even write a catchy song that is one of those tunes which, for a short time, unites Americans in innocent and fun moments of care free acting out. That kind of thing has redeeming value. Then, on the Ellen Degeneres show, he apparently said he wrote the song —for women—. I heard Ellen touting that…get this…Pharrell likes women. He does. He really likes ’em. He was considering the song as it related to all the women that would be lifted up as the President dredged up another round of goofy non-issues regarding unfair pay.
My feet can no longer move in time with that music. I am Steve Martin’s character in The Jerk, unable to even snap my fingers to a basic 2/4 time piece of music. Because Happy, the song…..its about women….because Pharrell….he likes women. Man is out there risking it all when he dares share such controversial beliefs, you’d think by the way Ellen shared Pharrell’s edgy feelings for women. Courage. .
Thanks to Beth, though, for sticking these lyrics in my head for the next several days. Those high pitched voiced BeeGees, with lots of facial and chest and back hair visible through the silk jumpsuits, could break the good crystal couldn’t they? I thought my Pinto windshield was victim to an untended 18 wheeler hauling rocks. But it was my self installed 150 watt equalizer with cassette deck in dash hitting harmonic dissonance , creating a standing wave pattern, and decomposing the glass at the molecular level with the Brothers Gibb as a catalyst, singing:
Oh, girl I’ve known you very well
I’ve seen you growing everyday
I never really looked before
but now you take my breath away.
Suddenly you’re in my life
part of everything I do
you got me working day and night
just trying to keep a hold on you.
Here in your arms I found my paradise
my only chance for happiness
and if I lose you now I think I would die.
Oh say you’ll always be my baby
we can make it shine, we can take forever
just a minute at a time.
More than a woman, more than a woman to me
Done stalling empath?. What’s about Beth Moore? What’d she say?
Something about women….be my guess.
The place God carved out for women in the Bible’s account of Christ’s death and resurrection is astonishing
Child: “Mommy, look at that over there”
Mommy: “What sweety”
Child: “Some guy just came out of nowhere and shoved that old man and woman out of the way of that bus…the man was hit and I think he’s hurt mommy”
Child: “Mommy! (child is waving hands in front of mommy’s face) he isn’t moving”
Mommy: “Shhhh, did you see that? The sign on the side of that bus says the new CEO of ACME is a woman! Did you see that bus advertisement honey?”
Beth sets up the scene:
On the third day through the pool of a woman’s tears, the face of the risen Son of God was beheld, the sun piercing the black hole of an empty tomb.
The Lord is risen……and, and, …….and women had a role!
Not only a role, but a torturous one. The virtue of a woman is that she is compelled to serve, to do, to act, to fix, to be busy.
the women saw how His body was laid. Then they returned and prepared spices and ointments.
Then they had to sit and wait and bide their agonizing time until the Sabbath was over so that they could tend to the deceased body of their beloved.
No work. Just wait.
Sometimes waiting is the work.
Nothing makes us sweat like waiting.
Sometimes rest is imposed on us when what we want to do more than anything on earth is work.
I’ve got to do something.
To women, there is always something to do in a catastrophe.
If you can’t fix it, fret over it. Flail. Demand. Make yourself heard.
But do something.
To us the answer is never do nothing.
Even amidst the event without which we are nothing, except we are a ridiculous people,even then it has to be ESPECIALLY difficult for women. It tested them.
I’m not sure womanhood had ever been put to trial more thoroughly in the Gospels than in the still shot of Luke 23:56.
For 19 years of believing, of reading scriptures and sitting under its teaching, of discussing it and praying it and pondering it…..in all those years I missed this critical feature. Jesus violent sacrificial death and the Father’s act of holy will raising Him from death, all that just comes so much more sharply into focus when we stop and think of the test those women had to endure and during which they were forced to………………………………………do nothing.