[Ezekiel Bathfire]

I’d like a little help here. First let me put you in the picture and then you can say if I’m right or not.

Like most of you, the first thing I do when I wake in the morning is smell my hands. However, this morning, I had a pressing reason. It all started yesterday evening when I went off to the Des Moines Baptist Biblical Science Convention to speak on why it is that meteorites always land in craters.

I was late as my car broke down about 2 miles from the hotel. I had “Boy” my chauffeur and faithful retainer, go off to find a garage and, in vile weather with shoes better suited for a soft carpet, I walked the rest of the way. When I arrived my feet were in wet, cold and in agony. God never gives us more than we can bear, although sometimes He comes close, so I considered this to be something like a revelation of what Jesus must have felt like when he walked to Jerusalem (Lu:19:27 Lu:19:28 ) only colder and wetter and I was pulling a suitcase along.

I had hoped simply to sit down in my room with my feet in warm water but even before I could check in I was cornered in the lobby by Pastor McFarlane who wanted my opinion on the thorny question of if coconuts hairy and produce milk, should therefore be classed as mammals. The old bats are birds and shrimps are fish arguments came out before I was able to drag myself away, only to be pulled to one side by Pastor Davidson was eager to discuss the obvious relationship between the end of the Cold War and the rise in the belief in global warming.

It took him a full 20 minutes to get to his point during which time my feet seemed to weld with pain to the marble floor. I chose a few verses, particularly Genesis 1:28 which we can translate as “We are men therefore we are looking after the earth – case closed.”, pointed at some food on the table and then turned to leave for the desk.

I walked straight into Pastor Eisbrand. He has always had a thing about moral corruption. He was concerned about the size of the pornography trade and the undoubted evils it inflicts on an otherwise Godly Nation. Even his graphic descriptions of a huge, and frankly incredible, list of abominable acts of lust available on TV did not make me forget my feet.

And then I had an idea.

I said to him, “Excuse me Frank! I have a duty to perform!” and I marched up to my goal – the check-in desk. Even though the guy was standing before me, I hit the bell hard. It had the desired effect. The babble of conversation stopped dead. Silence was as the grave, all eyes were upon me and, in my stentorian voice that served me well in the early days as a street preacher, I said,

“I hope the porn is disabled.”

The guy looked at me for a moment and, forgive me, for I quote his words, replies loudly.

“It’s just regular porn you sick fuck.”

That’s when the fight broke out. It was as if the hotel staff and the police that arrived had iron chariots for we were all ejected, and doubtless you will have read biased and insulting reports in the newspapers. I will make a statement later that relies heavily on Lu:9:5. However, the street of Des Moines on a December night are no place for a Pastor with wet shoes and it took another hour to find a hotel.

The next morning my feet were worse and I felt like I had spent 3 days in the saddle. I called “Boy” and he appeared in the now repaired car having spent the evening well-fed and watered in some warm hotel devoid of spiritual solitude and contemplation as it had a jazz band and cheap booze. The journey home was like the punishment Satan forgot to give Job as the heater in the car had given up. So when I arrived home all I wanted to do was throw away those shoes and stick my feet in warm water. Oh, the bliss! This was what heaven must be like all the time. My mind drifted and I fell asleep and dreamed a dream in which that reprobate Rodimer was being eaten alive by hedgehogs. This was all very pleasing but once they had eaten his screaming head, the little devils started towards me. As the first one bit my toes, I woke up with a start. The water was cold and a blister on my left foot was stinging.

I put more hot water in the bowl and scanned the room for ointment. Once my feet had warmed through, I dried them and made my way to Mrs Bathfire’s dressing table – she has hundreds of creams, salves, ointments, etc.

One caught my eye. It was an 8.4oz jar labeled “Crème de la Mer”. The jar said, “Born from the sea, the legendary Crème de la Mer has the power to transform the skin. Blah, blah, blah, With the nutrient-rich Miracle Broth™, Blah, blah, blah, skin is immersed in moisture, sensitivities soothed, radiance restored. ... Blah, blah, blah, profound benefits lies in a soothing ritual.” I scooped a handful out and rubbed it into my feet. To be frank, it was a bit like goose fat and had a perfume that was a little less than manly, but I trusted what was said and scooped another handful for my other foot.

I was just rubbing the last bit into my heel when in walks Mrs Bathfire. I was just putting the jar back on the dressing table and she noticed this. She pulled it from my hand and looked in the jar. There was a silence and then a ear-rending scream broke out. My jaw started to fall as my eyebrows rose. Mrs Bathfire was upon me like a banshee. She pushed me to the floor and started stoning me with all the jars, bottles, and tubes that she could lay her hands on. Her constant refrain was “You idiot! You cretin! You [profanity deleted]! That was 8 oz of “Crème de la Mer”! It cost $1,030! This went on for sometime, so avoiding the missiles I collected some fresh socks and shoes and departed followed by the odd jar and more cries of “$1,030!”

As I sat in my prayer closet, it turned out the price was correct (http://www.cremedelamer.com/product/...ch-dewy-finish) but despite that, I was somewhat disturbed by the smell of the ointment that was rising from my now warm feet and thinking of what I could have done with over $1000, when I recalled

Joh:12:1: Then Jesus six days before the passover came to Bethany, where Lazarus was which had been dead, whom he raised from the dead.
Joh:12:2: There they made him a supper; and Martha served: but Lazarus was one of them that sat at the table with him.
Joh:12:3: Then took Mary a pound of ointment of spikenard, very costly, and anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped his feet with her hair: and the house was filled with the odour of the ointment.
Joh:12:4: Then saith one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, which should betray him,
Joh:12:5: Why was not this ointment sold for three hundred pence, and given to the poor?
Joh:12:6: This he said, not that he cared for the poor; but because he was a thief, and had the bag, and bare what was put therein.
Joh:12:7: Then said Jesus, Let her alone: against the day of my burying hath she kept this.
Joh:12:8: For the poor always ye have with you; but me ye have not always.

My life seems not to follow that of Jesus, although I note that the poor are still with us. I thought how Mary was only too willing to put the expensive ointment on Jesus and realized that Mrs Bathfire had obviously been angry that I had put it on by myself. She must have felt that I should have waited for her to put it on my feet and then wipe it off with her hair.

This insight surely came from Jesus, so I went downstairs to find her and explain that I forgave her. I found her in the kitchen speaking, in tears, on the telephone and recounting to the widow Talitha what I had done.

I held up my hand and told her how I understood and that I was wrong to stop her putting the stuff on my feet and rubbing it off with her hair. You can imagine my surprise as pots and pans flew in my direction accompanied by screams of anger. I retreated in line with Proverb:21:9

How could I have been wrong? Jesus had spoken to me! I returned to my prayer closet. There, upon the floor was my bible. It was open at

M'r:14:1: After two days was the feast of the passover, and of unleavened bread: and the chief priests and the scribes sought how they might take him by craft, and put him to death.
M'r:14:2: But they said, Not on the feast day, lest there be an uproar of the people.
M'r:14:3: And being in Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he sat at meat, there came a woman having an alabaster box of ointment of spikenard very precious; and she brake the box, and poured it on his head.
M'r:14:4: And there were some that had indignation within themselves, and said, Why was this waste of the ointment made?
M'r:14:5: For it might have been sold for more than three hundred pence, and have been given to the poor. And they murmured against her.
M'r:14:6: And Jesus said, Let her alone; why trouble ye her? she hath wrought a good work on me.
M'r:14:7: For ye have the poor with you always, and whensoever ye will ye may do them good: but me ye have not always.

Ignoring the fact that Mark says it was Simon the leper’s house and John says it was Lazarus’s (Jesus probably went to two houses) I now see that the second story is the right one, and either I, or better still Mrs Bathfire, should have poured the Crème de la Mer over my head, although what that would have done to my feet, I don’t know.

I have spent the night in my prayer closet. Oh, and as for smelling my hands this morning, it’s that perfume: the smell gets everywhere.

__________________________________________________ ________

I'm thinking of mentioning Mark's message when things calm down. Is this the right approach?

[Alvin Moss]

Brother, I grieve with you over the discord in your house. It must be especially galling, coming as it does on the heels of an encounter with surly and unsaved wretches. I don't mean to inject my own opinion, but I feel you are crying out for help. I am here to help.

The issue clearly begins with the unwifely attitude of Mrs. Bathfire, if I may make so bold as to say it. Like most husbands, you seek to please the woman, as you should. Like most wives, she takes advantage when she can.

I believe the answer is likely more simple than you may think. She needs discipline. With luck, a light beating may suffice. I will pray for your success.

God Bless!

[Jim Farmer]

Maybe Mrs Bathfire was keeping the ointment for the rapture, so that she could personally put it on Jesus' feet?

[Alvin Moss]

I fear that Mrs. Moss has now become quite unruly. She keeps holding her hands up and she says "she stands in solidarity with Mrs. Bathfire", what ever that means. I have smacked her up side the head and she has retired to the bedroom. I am preheating the oven to 350 degrees to make myself some cookies. I intend to show Mrs. Moss just who is in charge and I hope to shame her with my labors, as she should be making the cookies.

[Nobar King]

I have a source that can get you jars of "cr'eme de la mer" for $515 a jar. Buy her two and tell her that you got them for half off and she'll love you forever.

[Joanna Lytton-Vasey]

Originally Posted by Nobar King

I have a source that can get you jars of "cr'eme de la mer" for $515 a jar. Buy her two and tell her that you got them for half off and she'll love you forever.

If I may offer a woman's perspective on this, I'd suggest you don't tell her you got them at half price. We are shallow creatures and this will make her think you value her.

That said, I am absolutely gobsmacked at Mrs Bathfire's extravagance. Had the jar been opened? If so then she may have been using it on herself. You can buy 10lbs of paraffin wax for about $50 and, mixed with a little cooking oil, it makes an excellent balm and the smell soon goes away. I will send Mrs Bathfire my grandmother's recipe.

[Ezekiel Bathfire]

Originally Posted by Alvin Moss

.. I intend to show Mrs. Moss just who is in charge and I hope to shame her with my labors, as she should be making the cookies.

I use this method too. I remember washing the dishes several times as an example to Mrs B. You may have experienced the same thing where you have to do it for a month or more to get the message across.

Originally Posted by Nobar King

I have a source that can get you jars of "cr'eme de la mer" for $515 a jar. Buy her two and tell her that you got them for half off and she'll love you forever.

I don't think that 2 will be necessary. The stuff is supposed to rejuvenate women. Two jars would probably turn her into a teenager and I can't put up with loud music and a "Like whatever" attitude.

Originally Posted by Joanna Lytton-Vasey

If I may offer a woman's perspective on this, I'd suggest you don't tell her you got them at half price. We are shallow creatures and this will make her think you value her.

Lu:16:13: No servant can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.

And this, Mrs Vasey, is why you must listen to your husband.

That said, I am absolutely gobsmacked at Mrs Bathfire's extravagance. Had the jar been opened?

To tell the truth, I can't remember f it had been opened. However, I read the John/Mark verses as Jesus saying, "Hang the expense, it's for me dammit!" and so I can't really complain whatever she spent.

If so then she may have been using it on herself.

I doubt it. As I said she has hundreds of these "anti-aging"; "recover your youth"; look younger every day", etc and none of them seem to be working - either that or without them she'd look like a prune.

You can buy 10lbs of paraffin wax for about $50 and, mixed with a little cooking oil, it makes an excellent balm and the smell soon goes away. I will send Mrs Bathfire my grandmother's recipe.

Oh good. I wish you would. I'm sure Brother Nobar will be able to come up with some cut-price perfume stuff that will give a good approximation.

[Cranky Old Man]

I think we all know what the problem is here. You spoil your wife too much.

First of all women do not need creams, salves or ointments. All they need is a bar of soap to prevent them from smelling funny. And why would a wife need a dressing table? After 17 years of severe negotiations I allowed my wife to have a small mirror because I got sick of all the whining, but I think that is about all the luxury a wife would ever need.

And how on earth did she get "Crème de la Mer" (which sounds suspiciously French if you ask me) for $1,030? First of all she clearly got ripped off. But how did she get such a huge amount of money? My wife gets 66 dollars per month for shopping and I insist on checking all the receipts to make sure nothing gets wasted. Women and money are a horrible combination that should be prevented as much as possible.

As to the telephone she uses to waste time on whining to the widow Talitha instead of serving her husband, just get rid of it. We have had a telephone for a brief period in the 50s but I concluded quite soon that all these things seem to be used for is endless yapping about pointless subjects.

So I think you should get rid of all the creams and other pointless luxuries and beat her until all she can think of is Genesis 3:16 and Ephesians 5:22-24.

[Ezekiel Bathfire]

I, Bathfire, do not ‘spoil’ anyone. You have not lived with Mrs Bathfire, at least I hope you haven’t! And I did point you to

Proverb:21:9 It is better to dwell in a corner of the housetop, than with a brawling woman in a wide house.

My house is quite wide and my prayer closet is up in the roof – in fact it takes up most of the roof space and is quite comfortable.

If God Himself recognizes that there are brawling women, then you should too! And that discretion of living in the roof can be applied by His Law, so I’m probably holier than thou because God has chose Mrs Bathfire as my Helpmeet (<-is that a word?) and that apparent curse is my opportunity to make myself stronger in mind and faith.

Your wife’s Salvation is simple for you! I remember how you hit her round the head with a wet catfish at last year’s trip to the river and when she regained consciousness, she was nothing but obedience (although I might have mistaken concussion for obedience, but that’s not important).

Yes, it is OK for you, with your meek wife: I have to work on it! I advise her regularly on matters both temporal and spiritual and over the years she has learned a little. Had I tried the fish trick with Mrs Bathfire, I would have had the repeat of her switching off the electricity and being chauffeured away with “Boy” to her sister’s place for a week. If nephew Zebulon hadn’t come round by chance, I’d have frozen or starved to death in darkness!

As for the telephone, I did cut the thing off once and I bought myself a ‘cell’ phone. The damn thing was so complicated I had to have Mrs B show me how to use it. I still couldn’t use it, and Mrs B took charge of it. Do you know how much the price of calls to her other sister in Australia was! I could have had Pastor Zeke perform three exorcisms for that price! That’s why I had the phone reconnected.

[Cranky Old Man]

Originally Posted by Ezekiel Bathfire

IYour wife’s Salvation is simple for you!

It was not simple at all! When Pastor Obadiah Flint, Zeke's father, ordered us to get married she was a completely different women. She talked all the time, organized charity events. She was a strong spirited woman who was the life and soul of every conversation.

It took me years and years of beatings before she finally became the silent God fearing women she is today. And those were rough years. My hands hurt due to the beatings. I even broke a finger once because she moved her head while I was beating her. My ears hurt due to the screaming and the crying. Serving God is very hard work but I was sure my suffering would not be in vain. And in the end it all worked out. Nowadays she needs only a few maintenance beatings every month to remind her that she is a worthless sinner who disappoints Jesus all the time (Romans 3:23). I cannot even remember the last time she talked to me. So I suffered a lot but it was clearly all worth it.

So I am certain that with some severe beatings, your wife's behavior should improve a lot as well.

If you want an example of how horribly wrong things can go without some Godly male guidance, just look at my annoying neighbor Mrs. Johnson. Ever since Mr. Johnson went to Heaven, she has been on the wide road straight to Hell (Matthew 7:13-14). Instead of being silent she screams every time she sees me. Instead of worshipping Jesus she spends all her time on collecting more and more annoying dogs. I gave up shooting them since every time I kill one, somehow two puppies take it's place. Clearly Jesus wants me to endure a lot of suffering before I will finally be allowed in Heaven. I look forward to watching Mrs. Johnson burn in Hell together with Mr. Johnson. Then her annoying screams will have finally become music to my ears.

[Ezekiel Bathfire]

Originally Posted by Cranky Old Man

It was not simple at all! When Pastor Obadiah Flint, Zeke's father, ordered us to get married she was a completely different women. She talked all the time, organized charity events. She was a strong spirited woman who was the life and soul of every conversation.

The first Mrs Bathfire was like that: wilful and vacuous. I well remember one dinner back in 2001 when she insisted on outling the faults of Keynesian economics and the debt market whilst we men were trying to work out a solid financial strategy involving the disposal of junk bonds. Nobody recalled what she had said, which was a relief, otherwise my embarrassment would have been complete.

I even broke a finger once because she moved her head while I was beating her.

How’s your finger now?

So I am certain that with some severe beatings, your wife's behavior should improve a lot as well.

As usual, you have failed to take into consideration the Missing Word of God. One day, early in our marriage, I found Mrs Bathfire had failed to change the oil in the rear axel of the Pontiac. As a gentle lesson in the essentials of car maintenance, I invited her to the kitchen, asked her to hand me a skillet, and then I pointed out her fault. As women are wont to do, she came back with a list of things she had done. I nodded politely and swung the skillet at her head. Her reactions were amazing – before the utensil had traveled halfway, her had had grabbed my secrets and I was on the floor, unable to breathe and my stones felt as if they were connected to the main.

Through the gut-wrenching deep pain and swirls of blackness, I heard her say, “Deu 25:11 When men strive together one with another, and the wife of the one draweth near for to deliver her husband out of the hand of him that smiteth him, and putteth forth her hand, and taketh him by the secrets:
Deu 25:12 Then thou shalt cut off her hand, thine eye shall not pity her. I’ve not done anything sinful, have I, Bathfire?”

I grunted, for she was correct, but I thought that there should be something there – but there isn’t.

And then she added. “And before you try that again, recall Judges 4:21”

I complained to her father but cut no ice: his wife, her mother, knew the same trick.

If you want an example of how horribly wrong things can go without some Godly male guidance, just look at my annoying neighbor Mrs. Johnson.

I know her, don’t think I don’t! That damn woman came along telling me about how the smoke from my barbecue had filled her house. Her screeching made my ears bleed. I had a word with Pastor Zeke, who was sympathetic but felt his hands were tied as it was his father, Obadiah Flint, who had agreed (to save Mr Johnson’s life) to treat Mrs Johnson well after recalling 1Timothy:5 :


1Ti 5:9 Let not a widow be taken into the number under threescore years old, having been the wife of one man, -> she qualified
1Ti 5:10 Well reported of for good works; if she have brought up children, if she have lodged strangers, if she have washed the saints' feet, if she have relieved the afflicted, if she have diligently followed every good work. -> there were no children of the marriage and she relieved Mr Johnson when she shut up.
1Ti 5:11 But the younger widows refuse: […]
1Ti 5:13 And withal they learn to be idle, wandering about from house to house; and not only idle, but tattlers also and busybodies, speaking things which they ought not. -> doesn’t apply as she’s not young.

However, Pastor Zeke did mention the annual Witch Hunt…