Running Commentary, Part Two

Ran 3 miles today. Bluetooth headphones worked great this time. I identified my problem from before - it was a BUOD (pronounced Boo odd), also known as a one dee ten tee (a 1D10T). Might take some of you a bit to translate, but maybe if I unwind BUOD it will help: Bad User On Device.

In any case, Strava did not do much better today. I disabled the auto-pause function and was able to get rid of the running pause/running resumed problem. But the User Interface is not very intuitive. I have a feeling much of the problem is my phone: a Samsung Galaxy Proclaim. You know how the Android operating systems are designated by a cute little confectionary, like Gingerbread, Jelly Bean, or Lollipop? Well, mine is Okra. Or Eggplant. Early, early days. It's so bad that if you want to make a phone call at 11, you need to start dialing at 10:30.

So Strava is getting a bad rap on my DumbPhone. But I will say this: for all its problems, RunKeeper actually works on my DumbPhone. Strava seems to be really struggling.

Running Commentary

Okay, I ran today. It was an experience. I’m the only person you know who can turn a simple thirty minute jog into a ninety minute technological nightmare. Wanna shake my hand?

Anyway, let’s get to the good news first. I ran.

Now, on to the bad news . . .

Okay, there was more good news. I successfully carried my Christmas snacks, all of ‘em, around my three-mile course, without dying of a heart attack. That’s really good news. On the other hand, I was sufficiently apoplectic over my technology problems that it was far more likely a stroke would take me than an exercise-induced heart-attack. So I suppose I can add that to the good-news side of the ledger: I died neither of stroke nor heart attack, and at the moment of this writing remain in the land of the living.

I did, however, lose my sanctification. If anyone sees it laying beside the road, would you please catch it and drop it by the house?

That was the beginning of the bad news. Pray, continue.

Today I got to use my new Bluetooth headphones for the first time. Maybe the last time. I am seriously considering uninstalling them and reinstalling the tin cans and string that preceded them. Using these headphones requires an intelligence quotient I haven’t seen since college.

The right earpiece comes with five controls allowing me to control my music and to use the telephone—which I am bound and determined to never do. In my opinion, telephones are designed to be seen and not heard, but that’s another story: back to the music.

No one told me two essential pieces of information: first, it requires the fingers of a concert pianist to hit “volume up” rather than “dial the telephone,” especially when you are simultaneously lugging your Christmas cookies around the block.

My inability to hit the proper button perturbed me significantly until I landed upon yet another insight—the second piece of information about which I was not informed: these headphones randomly reassign the buttons to different functions as you run. Ha! Two minutes ago that WAS the volume-up button. Now it’s the “skip this song” button!

This was not a pleasant discovery. You see, part of the fun of running—wait, no, let me phrase that more accurately—part of that which makes running slightly more tolerable than a root canal is listening to music as I haul my cookies over the landscape. And because I am mostly deaf, I need a slightly elevated volume when I run. You know, sort of like the teenager who pulls up next to you at the light, music blaring so loud the vibrations readjust your mirrors? Yeah, that’s me when I’m running.

So the first mile I’m running with my fingers in my ear, punching buttons, frantically trying to get my music to a rock-concert decibel level where I can hear it. No dice. Very faint, barely audible. I found the “skip this song” button, the “dial this phone” button, the “volume down” button, but no “volume up” button.

Due solely to the fact that it is very wearisome (not to speak of embarrassing) to run with your finger in your ear, I gave up and slogged the next mile with nothing more than the faintest whisper of music.

Somewhere in mile two I decided to try again. Wouldn’t you know it, the button randomizer had assigned the volume-up function to the “volume up” button. Oh, thank you, thank you! I adjusted the volume to where it was setting off car alarms as I ran past, and I was happy as a clam.

Until mile three. When [running paused] Strava, my running program on my smartphone [running resumed] decided to flake out. Every ten [running paused] seconds it [running resumed] was telling me that the [running paused] pause function had [running resumed] kicked in. Honestly, I was not going [running paused] that slow. [running resumed]! The only advantage [running paused] was that [running resumed] it made your favorite songs [running paused] last longer be-[running resumed]cause it paused the song with each announcement.

It did this little pause/resume thing for the rest of my run. Very tiresome. To add insult to injury, I couldn’t get Strava to exit when I finished my run. Finally just turned off the stupid phone. Rock concert was over, anyway.

Next time I run, I’m leaving the headphones and telephone home. Wish I could leave the cookies home, too.

[Editorial note: this is a true story, only slightly embellished He’s still looking for his sanctification.]

Book Review: When I Am Afraid

With When I am Afraid, Ed Welch of CCEF continues serving the church of Jesus Christ in the arena of Biblical Counseling. A companion volume to his book RunningScared, this seven-week workbook tackles the problems of fear, worry, and anxiety with a counselor’s mind and a pastor’s heart. As with all workbooks, the study is very interactive; each chapter is riddled with questions designed to elicit from the reader both information about his own fears and a response to what God says about them.

In Week 1, “Fear and Anxiety Speak Out,” Welch counsels us to discover our fears and then listen to what they are saying. Ultimately they are saying something about God Himself. Rather than turning away from God in fear, the reader is admonished to turn to God when afraid.

“The God of Suspense Reveals His Plans,” proclaims the title of Week 2. Welch illustrates from the Old Testament that God is the One who delivers at the eleventh hour. The author demonstrates that God does not give grace in advance, but instead specializes on just-in-time delivery. He calls this the “Manna Principle;” it’s there when you need it, but not before.

Weeks 3-5 address three of the more common triggers of worry, fear, and anxiety. Financial problems, death, and the fear of man each receive their own treatment as Welch continues to apply the Scriptures with the deft hand of a spiritual surgeon.

“The God of Hope Keeps His Promises” is the theme of Week 6. The summation of this week of study is that God promises to be with us in all that happens; He is near and He walks through the trials with us. God’s own faithfulness becomes our rock of refuge in time of trouble.

Welch wraps up his study with Week 7, “The Lord Reigns – Things Are Not the Way They Seem.” Though the disaster, sin, and sorrow of the world seems to be winning, the King is present and active. Welch uses Psalm 46 to reassure the reader that God’s sovereign control is exercised unfailingly on behalf of His children. One day His reign and justice will be seen by all.

The cover represents the book as “A Step-by-Step Guide Away From Fear and Anxiety.” Most of the steps Welch lists are cognitive ones that involve recognizing and relying upon the living God who is present with His people. If you are looking for a detailed check list of things you can do to defeat fear and anxiety, you might want to keep looking. Welch’s aim is far deeper: he wants to strike at the root of fear, which has to do with the heart-based perceptions of the reader. Welch proclaims a God who really is active and powerful on our behalf, who really is a provider and protector, who sees the end from the beginning and carries His people all the way through. I highly recommend When I am Afraid.

A Christmas Meditation

Overhead the stars glisten in the predawn sky like diamonds set in black velvet. A chill wind sweeps off the nearby hills, seeping through the cracks and crannies of every home, carrying with it the biting cold of winter. In the pasture lands the sheep huddle together in woolly clumps seeking an escape from the piercing fingers of frost.

As the eastern sky turns from black to purple to brilliant orange, the cry of an infant intrudes upon the early morning stillness. Somewhere, in a stable in a little village nestled in the Judean hills, a young woman and her young husband cradle her first little child in their arms.

Mystery of eternal mysteries, the Divine Logos is come—Immanuel, which being interpreted is God with us. For the little one in his mother’s arms is the One who placed those diamond stars in that black velvet sky. In timeless ages past it was He who ordained the warmth of summer and the cold of winter. By the word of that vulnerable infant the sun burst into its brilliant blaze of glory before there were human eyes to see it. Indeed, upon the counsel of the Father it was that precious babe who molded from the bones of the earth on the third day of time a little hill someday to be called Mount Calvary.

For you see, the little One crying in that cold stable, surrounded by the love and protection of a proud young mother, is the mighty Son of the Highest, the Prince of Peace, the Alpha and Omega, Jesus Christ, God’s Son, Savior.

O come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord.

Book Review: Mindscape: What to think about instead of worrying

This little book (180 pages, including endnotes) is a great exposition of Philippians 4:8: “Finally, brethren,

whatever is true, whatever is honorable, . . . , let your mind dwell on these things.” Witmer writes with a pastor’s heart and eye as he walks the reader through this verse, virtually word by word. Throughout the book he employs an extended metaphor for worry: our “mindscape” is a landscape—a garden with “worry weeds” that must be pulled. He draws on illustrations from his own life as well as his pastoral experience that are helful and to the point.

As he explores the list of things Paul tells us to fasten our minds upon, Witmer deals with both the negative aspects—what we think about instead of what Paul is commanding; and the postive aspects—why what Paul commands is so helpful to defeat worry.

I’ve also read Elyse Fitzpatrick’s book, Overcoming Fear, Worry, and Anxiety. These two books make great companions. Fitzpatrick delves deeper, perhaps, into some of the underlying issues (she makes much of the “idols of the heart”), whereas Witmer is devoted to examining Paul’s solutions from Philippians 4:8. Both books are outstanding, contribute significant material for biblical counseling, and are quite readable by counselees.

I recommend Mindscape very highly. Even if you don’t wrestle with worry, you’ll find the book helpful as Witmer unfolds a verse from one of Paul’s best known passages.

Change-up in the book schedule

The release date for Outlander Chronicles: Icarus is being pushed back by one year--now scheduled for December 2016. It has been bumped by a story I have been toying with for about six months: a political thriller titled The Candidate, about a plain-spoken, non-lawyer, conservative/libertarian blogger who is talked in to running for President. I am hoping, Lord willing, to publish The Candidate in December of 2015--just in time for our real presidential election coming up in 2016.

I apologize to those of you who have been urging me to get the next Outlander Chronicles tale done. I really enjoy the Outlander series myself, so the next book will get done. The only reason I have bumped it back is because I am hoping that The Candidate will do well in an actual election year.

None of this affects Falcon Strike, which is on schedule for a release this December.

The "expulsive power of a new affection"

Iain Duguid is a new Old Testament professor at Westminster Theological Seminary. The school has released a pamphlet written by Duguid, that clarifies the WTS position on Christ in the OT. The reading below is an excerpt from this pamphlet, "Is Jesus in the Old Testament?" and deals with truth that the Gospel addresses our failures to live as we ought.

How do we address this gap between what we know and what we do? Sermons and Bible studies that focus on "law" (the demands of Scripture for our obedience), no matter how accurately biblical in content, tend to simply add to the burden of guilt felt by the average Christian. A friend of mine calls these sermons "another brick in the backpack"--you arrive at church knowing five ways in which you are falling short of God's standard for your life, and you leave knowing ten, doubly burdened.

In my experience such teaching yields little by way of life transformation, especially in terms of the joy and peace that are supposed to mark the Christian life. Focusing on the gospel, however, has the power to change our lives at a deep level. Through the gospel we come to see both the true depth of our sin (and therefore that our earlier feelings of guilt were actually far too shallow), while at the same time being reminded of the glorious good news that Jesus is our perfect substitute who removes our sin and guilt. He lived the life of obedience in our place and fulfilled the relentless clamor of the law's demands, and he took upon himself the awful punishment that our sin truly deserves. As the Holy Spirit enables us to grasp this gospel reality, he frees us from our guilt and refreshes us with a deep joy that motivates our hearts to love God anew. In this way, the gospel begins the slow transformative work of changing us from the inside out. This is what the nineteenth-century Scottish pastor Thomas Chalmers called the "expulsive power of a new affection": the fact that profound change in our behavior always comes through a change in what we love most, not through external coercion.

Amen.

Open Office Styles

Regarding Open Office and learning how to use it: if you already know how to use the basic functions of word processing in Open Office, there is one feature you should invest two or three hours learning, and learning well. That feature is Styles. There are character styles, paragraph styles, frame styles, page styles, and list styles. A style is like a pre-defined template which guides how your words go on the page, and sets things like tabs, line spacing, indents, italics, etc. If you don't know how to use styles you'll find yourself fighting against your computer rather than working with it--very frustrating. Sometimes with a few keystrokes you wind up inadvertantly changing the look of your entire document.

This explains why I have no hair. I did not know how to use styles and I was bumping into the power of the word processor without knowing what I was doing. Sort of like sticking your tongue in a light socket.

 Both Open Office and Word have styles. Once you learn how to use them properly, they are extremely powerful and very helpful. But until you learn to use them, it would be best to keep hammers, guns, and bricks in a separate room from your computer.

Invest the time. Read the helps. Play with a test document. Learn to use the styles. Especially learn what the "autoupdate" feature does. I can now change my plain-vanilla text manuscript into a highly formatted print-on-demand book in a couple of frustration-free hours, because of styles. Learn to use 'em - they're your friend.

Microsoft Office versus OpenOffice

Just had an outstanding illustration of why I abandoned MS Office a long time ago, and have never looked back and never regretted it. Spent five minutes just trying to figure out how to reveal hidden characters. Back when MS Office was a decent product, it was easy to find. But when MS began changing the user interface with each major release (sometimes radically changing it), the learning curve became simply ridiculous--and that was just to relearn stuff you already knew how to do.

Anyway, I have written countless sermons, four novels, and one non-fiction using OpenOffice. I have installed numerous major upgrades over the years, and not one time did I have to relearn the user interface--not once.

I was a Microsoft Certified Systems Engineer, and an IT director at a graduate school, so I'm not exactly a newbie. But when MS started yanking around their customer base, I jumped ship. Have never regretted it.

OpenOffice is free, it's reliable, it's well-maintained, and it's user interface is stable. Once you invest the time to learn it (it's much like Word used to be), you will never have to make that investment again.

Okay, just needed to rant a little. I'm done. You can go back to searching your ribbon for stuff you used to know exactly where to find (while I return to my productivity).

Book Review: C. S. Lewis, God in the Dock

Reading Lewis is like peering through a freshly washed window into the depths of his soul. A rare communicator among great thinkers and writers, Lewis is able to put deep thoughts on the lower shelf, accessible to the man who has callouses on his hands and dirt under his fingernails.

God in the Dock is a compendium of Lewis’ essays, articles, letters, and a few transcripts of his speeches compiled by editor Walter Hooper, who served briefly as Lewis’ secretary during the illness that took Lewis’ life. Hooper has organized the volume into four parts. The first part contains essays that are “clearly theological,” the second “semi-theological,” and the third “ethics,” and the fourth is comprised of Lewis’ letters answering those who disagree with some point he has made.

If Lewis is a polemicist, he has two arguments to make: his primary argument is against unbelief, and particularly unbelief possessed by those who professed to believe: the liberal clergy and theologians of the post-war Church of England. His other great issue is more subtle: it’s an argument against unclear thought and language that befuddles rather than enlightens. Lewis contends that if a man is not able to translate a passage from an English volume of systematic theology into language that his gardener would understand, he should fail his ordination exam.

Modern conservative evangelicals are conflicted about Lewis. It seems to me that there are two reasons for the uncertainty. First there is a misunderstanding about the way Lewis uses the term myth. As a professor of literature, Lewis used the term to describe the rich stories of cultures such as the Norsemen or the Greeks. Lewis contended that, though historically false, such stories conveyed subtle evidences of transcendence—in other words, evidence of God, the True Joy. But he also used the term to describe Christianity, and that’s what makes modern Bible-believers nervous. It need not.

Unlike modern liberals, when Lewis uses “myth” in connection with Christianity, he is not speaking of something false or unhistorical. Indeed, Lewis was a strong force in his day arguing for the reality of the miracles of Scripture, and against the anti-supernaturalism that wound up destroying much of Anglicanism. Lewis uses the term myth in much the same way that “metanarrative” is used in popular culture: it’s the “big picture,” the “grand narrative,” the unifying story that ties together and explains a culture. For Lewis Christian myth is the true historical story of God’s grand plan of redemption through His Son Jesus Christ. It is the story (the only story) that explains the faith of the apostles and the two thousand years of history since. Theologians use the term “redemptive history” in almost precisely the way Lewis used the word myth to describe Christianity. Myth is not the denial of historicity for Lewis, rather it is the assertion of the grandness and majesty of The Story—the true story.

The second concern about Lewis regards his tendency to Universalism, the idea that all men—even Christ rejecters—will ultimately be redeemed. Lewis argues that we in time cannot now know what eternity bodes for the lost. See for instance the last two chapters of The Great Divorce. I think Lewis himself was conflicted about it—you can observe his conflict in places where he argues strenuously for the need of conversion before one faces God. Conservative evangelicals who are disturbed by this part of Lewis need to go back and read the first four centuries of church history—even Augustine believed things we would disavow today. The same can be said of the Reformers: for instance, they did not clearly separate civil from ecclesiastical authority—it took a couple more centuries for that to finally happen. We will do ourselves no favors judging Lewis by this one matter. Hooper says of him, “Lewis struck me as the most thoroughly converted man I ever met. Christianity was never for him a separate department of life. . . ” [12, emphasis his].

God in the Dock is an edifying and challenging sampler of Lewis’ thought in many different areas of life and theology. I recommend it highly.