The pre-order price at Hendrickson is a bargain for how valuable a resource this is. Check it out here.
One good turn deserves another. I’ve been enjoying my second pair of Feetures socks even more than the first.
You know how a lot of runners have that certain shirt or pair of socks that they are bummed about when it’s in the dirty laundry and not ready for their run? That’s how I’ve gotten to be with the Feetures PF Relief sock.
“PF” is plantar fasciitis, which, like so many other runners, I have unfortunately developed the last couple months.
I’ve tried just about everything. The kind of hideous-looking recovery sandal from OOFOS (but with good arch support), KT tape, rolling my foot out, physical therapy, a podiatrist, etc., etc. Especially since I am trying multiple things at once, it can be hard to say what all is working and what is not, but these socks with their intense compression have been a welcome companion on my runs.
There’s so much compression that they’re a little tricky to get on! In fact, when I first put them on I noticed some thread stretching/thinness where the heel goes in to the rest of the sock. Maybe an inevitability given the compression?
My contact at Feetures told me that seam stretch is normal. She said, “It’s a result of the Y-Heel construction of the sock and is more evident in the PF sock than some of our others!”
I worried about the sock unraveling, but after dozens of runs, everything is secure.
I generally prefer no-show socks, but I like the quarter sock I have here, since it gives me more sock to hold on to when I get it on. Here’s another view:
There are “L” and “R” socks in each pair, so you’re always putting the same one on each foot. I am a size 13, and the XL sock (12.5+) has been true to size—a perfect fit, in fact. The sock is 88% polyester and 12% spandex.
There are four different PF relief socks now, in black and white. Check them out here.
My only complaint about this sock is the price point: $29.99. Feetures is a great company and, from all I can tell, a worthy place to spend money, and these socks are my new favorites, but $30 for a pair of socks is tough to swallow.
I’m not sure if these socks will come down in price. I hope they do. At the same time, runners looking for PF relief are willing to try just about anything. The “lifetime guarantee” on this sock doesn’t hurt either.
And I just learned about an affiliate program Feetures has, so if you are a new, would-be customer and want $10 off—on that sock or any other—clicking here will give you a discount.
Thanks to the good folks at Feetures for the review sample, provided without any expectation as to the content of this review.
Kathy Khang’s new book from InterVarsity Press addresses an important question:
You have a voice. And you have God’s permission to use it.
In some communities, certain voices are amplified and elevated while others are erased and suppressed. It can be hard to speak up, especially in the ugliness of social media. Power dynamics keep us silent and marginalized, especially when race, ethnicity, and gender are factors. What can we do about it?
In the introduction (“The Risk of Silence Versus the Risk of Raising Your Voice”) Khang gets right to it: “More often than not, raising my voice comes at some cost” (3). But not speaking up has a cost, too: “I learned that even when I chose to be silent and do nothing, I was still choosing to communicate something” (10). She says, “I want you to know that you have a voice. God wants you to use it, and the world needs to hear, see, and experience it” (10).
Khang roots our voice in the image of God and says, “Creation was not meant to be silent” (35). The God who spoke creation into being calls us to speak and even speaks through us.
This doesn’t mean raising our voice will be easy. Khang talks about fear, failure, and the risk of upsetting others. She shares experiences where speaking up for peace has been difficult for her—even times when trusted colleagues have (literally!) tried to silence her. Her sharing of her and her family’s life stories are a compelling part of her showing readers what finding our voice can look like.
I marked up quite a bit in this book. Here are some of the passages that especially helped me:
Rather than waiting for fear to pass, we must be willing to make small yet courageous steps toward the unfamiliar. We must simply be willing to “do it afraid.” (65, from a friend of Khangs that she interviews)
Speaking out is often labeled as rocking the boat or causing trouble, but silence is just as dangerous. (83)
Another thing to consider is what issue is pulling at your heart and soul so much that it might make you do something you never thought you’d do? (57-58)
I found the following idea especially compelling, and a great antidote to those who complain about “division” or “playing the race card” or whatever other reasons people give for avoiding difficult conversations:
Speaking up doesn’t increase division. It brings injustice and sin to the forefront. (66)
The book is not quite the step-by-step how-to guide I expected from the chapter titles, but Khang offers plenty of practical advice:
What issues do you care most deeply about? Identify what compels you to speak up. What people, problems, dreams, and values are near and dear to your heart? What things make you angry and question humanity? Where do you find hope? (57)
And her use of the Esther narrative as a lens through which to view using one’s voice is inspiring.
The book, by the way, is an excellent oceanside companion…
… and a good dinner partner:
It’s especially timely, given everything the current president does and says, as Christians try to navigate what to say and how to say it and in what venues.
Thanks to the good folks at IVP for the review copy, sent without expectations of the content of my review.
As is well known in the field of Septuagint studies, certain books developed over time into distinct textual forms. That is, in some cases there are what look like two different Greek versions of the same book in the Septuagint corpus. In such cases, the manuscript evidence preserves two textual traditions that are substantially different enough that Rahlfs decided to differentiate them in his edition of the Septuagint.* Since we decided to use Rahlfs-Hanhart as a base text, when it came to producing the Reader’s Edition we had to ask ourselves how we would handle these “double texts,” as they are often called.
View original post 522 more words
Helen Ahpornsiri’s Drawn from Nature might be the most beautiful children’s book we’ve ever read. (And we’ve read a lot of them over the years.)
Ahpornsiri uses plants pressed by hand to lead the reader through the four seasons: Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter. The text itself is informative and lyrical, but the artwork is stunning.
Here are some pictures:
I can’t imagine how long it takes to illustrate a book (let alone do one page!) with hand-pressed plants. This 64-page book invites staring and wonder at the beauty of creation… not just that Ahpornsiri created from pressed plants, but how she did it. The creations that emerge are gorgeous.
My kids have gotten lost in this book already, as have I. It’s really fun to read a section at bedtime, but any child—reader or not—can easily find themselves swept up in these pages.
Thanks to the good folks at Candlewick/Big Picture Press for sending the book for review, though that did not influence my opinions.
You’re probably tired of hearing the Pew statistic that 81% of white evangelicals who voted in 2016 voted for Donald Trump. (Joe Carter’s early clarifications of the statistic are helpful.)
As I have written elsewhere, I believe it is incumbent on the 81% to explain why they supported a candidate who so publicly disregards and even opposes basic biblical values. (There have been some attempts at this, albeit unsatisfying ones.) It’s not that people always vote all their values or in their own best interest (and a limited two-party system makes voting values tricky for many, myself included), but the disconnect between the professed tenets of classic evangelicalism and the words and actions of Trump is remarkable.
John Fea, a historian and evangelical at Messiah College, offers an explanation in his just-released Believe Me: The Evangelical Road to Donald Trump (Eerdmans, 2018):
“For too long, white evangelical Christians have engaged in public life through a strategy defined by the politics of fear, the pursuit of worldly power, and a nostalgic longing for a national past that may have never existed in the first place. Fear. Power. Nostalgia. These ideas are at the heart of this book, and I believe that they best explain that 81 percent.” (6)
That’s the thesis of the book, which I will be reviewing here in the coming weeks. “This book,” Fea says, “is the story of why so many American evangelicals believe Donald Trump” (10).
In the meantime you can read more about the book here.