I found something the other day (actually a few months ago) that really impressed me. I don't know if it was the fact that a woman like this existed or that a someone was able to express so clearly what an honorable woman looks like, but someone who I already admired became even more of a legend in my eyes. The man is Jonathan Edwards, and I envy him very much, for a lot of things. He was a genius - universally accepted as one of the greatest philosophers American soil has produced.

Below is a quote from Jonathan Edwards. At the end of his life, he was away from his wife and unable to see her again before he died. I have read several mini-biographies in addition to some of his works, and they have all commented on his wife's uncommon beauty. And they have all commented on the couple's very passionate marriage. This quote blew me away and shaped my perception of finding a wife. First, a writing from his younger days of a girl that caught his eye:

"They say there is a young lady in New Haven who is beloved of that great Being who made and rules the world, and that there are certain seasons in which this great Being in some way or other invisible, comes to her and fills her mind with exceeding sweet delight, and that she hardly cares for anything except to meditate on Him; that she expects after a while to be received up where He is, to be raised up out of the world and caught up into heaven; being assured that He loves her too well to let her remain at a distance from Him always. There she is to dwell with Him, and to be ravished with His love and delight forever. Therefore if you present all the world before her, with the richest of its treasures, she disregards and cares not for it, and is unmindful of any pain or affliction. She has a strange sweetness in her mind, and singular purity in her affections; is most just and conscientious in all her conduct, and you could not persuade her to do anything wrong or sinful if you would give her all the world, lest she would offend this great Being. She is of a wonderful calmness, and universal benevolence of mind, especially after this great God has manifested Himself to her mind. She will sometimes go about from place to place singing sweetly, and seems to be always full of joy and pleasure, and no one knows for what. She loves to be alone, walking in the fields and groves, and seems to have someone invisible always conversing with her."

I want to find this woman. A version of her for this time and this place, of course, but this is the woman I want. If I don't find her, I'll be fine to continue by myself. But this is what I want. I guess I will have to be a man worthy of her though, and that will be hard to do. Requiring a lot of discipline and mastery of my own will. A lot of sacrifice and a lot of humility. Because at the end of it all I also want to be able to say to her:

"Give my kindest love to my dearest wife, and tell her that the uncommon union which has so long subsisted between us, has been of such a nature, as, I trust, is spiritual, and therefore will continue forever."

Jonathan Edwards was the man. A pretty lucky guy.

 

Spiders, when stepped on with bear foot, explode like grapes. "Splat" went somehting as I made the short journey from bathroom shower to bedroom table. It was a weird feeling under my right foot, the slight pop sound making the whole experience even more strange. I was almost in my room as I glanced over my shoulder to make out something small with what looked like legs sticking out to the side. A shiver went down my back. Sick. I think it was a spider. Yep, it was a spider. I just stepped on a spider. There were definitely spider juices on my foot. I hate spiders.

Unfortunately, the above was almost a wet dream compared to what happened to me last sunday. Cam and I were headed to Atlanta for a wedding. Time to break out the navy blue blazer. Wait, maybe I should go black blazer. No, the blue blazer is a little less formal--it's a southern, outdoor wedding. Yeah, definitely, I'll wear the blue blazer. Now, to get it out of the back, righthand corner of the closet. Put it on. Right hand in, push right arm through. Left hand in, push left arm through. That's weird. It feels like there are tiny, frayed threads at the end of the sleeve. My fingers peek out. Holy Sh-t!! I paused, then, furiously, I threw my hand like a lit firecracker with barely any fuse towards the ground. Encased in its own webbing at the end of my fingers was a Black Widow. It didn't bite me, thank God. It just sat there, scaring the crap out of me, preparing to meet its destiny, beneath my shoe. I killed that spider, but it nearly gave me a heart attack. Yet it wasn't really until after I had killed the thing that I was truly frightened. While it was on my hand I was merely acting on instinct. I didn't have time to think, just wanted to get that damned thing the hell away from me.

I may never go to the McKay book store again. I like the idea of a McKay book store, but when you get there you find that your idea has been trampled upon by reality. When you think of a bookstore, you think of 1) looking at books you want to look at 2) books being ordered in such a way that you can find the books you want to look at. Apparently, this idea doesn't work out fantastically in a real life used book store in Chattanooga on a Tuesday evening.

Used book stores (and their books) are great in some ways and not so great in others. I know they are limited to what people bring in so I can't slam them too hard on selection, but then again here is the major problem with the idea of a used book store: Why would someone turn in a good book? If the book is good, you most likely keep it. If the book sucks, you try and get rid of it. There's no way your going to read it again.

Therefore, used book stores are limited to bad books and books that are good but that you would not want to read more than once. And even if you can defeat that principle, you are still faced with the fact that every book in the joint is a book someone else doesn't want.

There is a way to turn that bag of lemons into lemonade, however. If people have bad taste they, by definition, dislike good books and like bad books. Therefore, a good used book store will be built on two solid foundational principles: 1) People with bad taste are their primary source of books and 2) People with good taste are their primary customers. To the extent that a used book store follows these principles the book store will profit and so will it suppliers and customers.

However, one more exception applies. Some books and authors are so bad, even people with bad taste will either hate them, or at best, read them once and get rid of the rubbish (preferably by sending them to a used book store that will pay for them). Because I looked at the Christian section, here are a few of the rubbish authors I am talking about (my opinion, of course):

1. Joyce Meyer: This crazy broad thinks she's the sh-t and she will try and tell you everything about anything that she knows nothing about. Including, but not limited to, Theology, how to control your relationship with God, Dieting, happiness, yelling at people, looking/sounding like a dude, etc.

2. Rick Warren: This dude loves numbers and the term "purpose." I've got another number for you Ricky--75--as in cents. That's how much your book is selling for at Mckay. Or, he may be trying to start a new movement: "Cotton Candy Theology." It's light, sweet and makes you feel good.

3. The crazy idiot who wrote the "Left Behind" series. I'm not sure if he based these books on the Bible or one of his butt cheeks.

I guess I just have to realize that Mckay "is what it is." If they have something that I want, great, if they dont, I just wasted two hours.