Jon Acuff's Blog, page 103

Running out of time.

Three weeks ago, on a Monday morning at 7:27, I was journaling. Why? Because I’m holier than you and always obey the 11th commandment. Thou shalt journal.

In the middle of what should have been a peaceful moment, the overwhelming feeling I had inside was, “You’re too late.”

“You’re behind.”

“You’ll never get ahead.”

“If you could just get ahead, you could rest.”

“If you had more time, you could get it all done.”

Like waves crashing against the shore of my day, those are the doubts and fears I heard that morning. The absurd thing of course is that it was Monday at 7:27AM. I couldn’t have possibly had more week in front of me. I was behind? Behind what? The sun had been up for an hour on the first day of the work week. How is it possible I was already behind some fictional performance chart?

This is one of the enemy’s favorite games. His favorite thing to tell you about time is that “it’s too late.” That is what fear often shouts at you.

And so on that morning, I started to think about that and wrestle with that and pray about that. I ended up, like so many other times these last six months, with a simple idea. One I put down on a post it note and will share with you now. It’s not deep. It’s not complicated. It’s not all that long. But it’s the kind of thing I need to remember on Monday mornings and maybe you do too. Here’s what you need to remember the next time fear tells you that it’s “too late.”

Question:

Do you ever feel like you’re “too late” or “out of time?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SCLQ – Is this the greatest wedding gift ever?

Right now, I am working on an epic “Christian Wedding Guide.” I hate to casually use the term “world changing,” but it’s safe to say that the release of that post will in fact be world changing. Or, at the bare minimum, make you laugh at least twice. One of those things is definitely going to happen.

And while researching that post, I came across what may be the greatest wedding gift ever. My dad gave it to me when I got married. Please grab a box of kleenex ’cause you’re going to cry. Better go ahead do a preemptive “Forgive me for coveting” prayer, as well, because that’s about to happen. Here is what my dad gave me and everyone at our rehearsal dinner when I got married:

Why is this such an awesome wedding gift? Let’s review the reasons:

1. God’s favorite sport is frisbee.

2. This isn’t some pop top, bank quality frisbee that weighs as much as a paper clip and can’t travel more than 4 wobbly feet in the air. This is an official 175 gram ultimate frisbee disc.

3. It wasn’t a waffle maker.

There’s a chance you got something better for your wedding. If so, let’s hear it?

What do you think is the best wedding gift someone could buy for you?

(Don’t you dare answer “undying love.” They don’t sell that in stores.)

Loving your neighbor, mildly disliking their dog.

I know we’re called to love our neighbor, but does that extend to their dog?

Can we get a ruling on that?

Let’s say you’re jogging. And your neighbor’s small dog chases you into oncoming traffic and they do that thing where you pretend to be surprised that a barely domesticated, unleashed animal would give chase to someone who is sprinting by their house what’s your move their as a Christian?

That I’m aware, non of the disciples ever got bitten by a dog in the Bible. Sure, Jezebel got eaten by dogs but that’s a completely different situation. I’m not talking about evil queens.

I’m talking about jogging bloggers with names that start with a J and end in “on Acuff.”

I’m of two minds on the issue:

1. Let it go.

At worst, you get a scar and a mildly interesting story. (“Mildly” because no one at a party will be riveted by your story about how a Pomeranian tried to death roll you gator style.) Don’t overreact. Don’t shout out “Get behind me satan!” Don’t mace him. Don’t install your own electric fence in the dead of night when the family goes out of town. Let it go. Or, turn the other cheek if you will and accept the bite.

2. Assume that dog is a Pharisee

Perhaps that dog has been money changing in the temple. I’m at work all day, for all I know that dog has been running crooked commerce schemes in the church. He’s got beady little eyes. Who knows what’s really going on in that tiny, menacing heart of his. Maybe that dog is a Pharisee and he’s always calling out minor infractions on the neighborhood’s golden doodles even while he uses the bathroom in other people’s yards. It’s hard to read a canine’s entire story in 14 barks delivered at a feverish pace, but that could be what’s going on.

Neither way seems to work that well.

In the first I have to make a trip to the hospital.

In the second I have to make a whip.

How fast would you be picked up by the po-po if you’re the guy running in your neighborhood with a homemade whip you made to clear out temple dogs.

I’ve given the situation my all.

What do you suggest?

Does “love your neighbor” extend to your relationship with their dog?

Winner of the WinShape Camp Week!

Last week the folks at Chick-fil-A offered one reader of SCL a free week at WinShape camps. Using a random number generator, the winner is Sean Palmer.

If that is your name, check your Twitter DM. I sent you the email address of my contact at Chick-fil-A. They will hook you up!

Thanks for entering!

Bragging about your good deeds via social media.

It’s guest post Friday!  Here’s one by Alicia Yost. You can check out her blog here and follow her on Twitter @nexttopmom1.  If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here’s how!)

Bragging About Your Good Deeds Via Social Media

As Christians, we have a knack at casually mentioning our good deeds while trying not to sound too prideful.  The Bible tells us to be careful not to perform them in front of people, and to not blow trumpets, and I would never do that! Psh, blowing a trumpet every time I do something good? That’s so “look at me!”

No, I wouldn’t ever do anything so hypocritical. I wouldn’t ever let people actually see what I do.  But God never said anything about social media, right? He never said that I couldn’t post my good deeds on Facebook or Twitter! I can announce that I’m fasting, but nobody can see me. And, besides, I put oil on my head and washed my face, so I’m cool.  I wouldn’t be actually bragging about it. I would just be keeping people up to date with what’s going on in my life. I can’t help it if what I’m doing just happens to be a good deed. Besides, maybe it will even inspire people, and that would be a good thing. I will be shining my light. Yeah, that’s it!

The truth is, we do this because we feel proud about what we’re doing, and we want everyone to know how awesome we are.  We think God is looking down at us, smiling and nodding and giving us the thumbs up, and we want everyone to know it! By doing this, we can make non-Christians feel like heathens, while simultaneously making Christians feel guilty and ourselves feel superior. It’s a win-win! I think it should be mandatory to add a tag to our social media posts, which adds an element of truth that explains what we really mean by our status and tweet.

What’s on your mind: ”volunteered at a battered woman’s shelter, donated food to the food bank, and helped an old woman carry her groceries.”  “My heaven stock just went through the roof, yo! Word to the Father!”

What’s happening? “Just boarded the plane to Africa where I will spend the next 3 weeks sleeping on a dirt floor and eating insects.”  “Enjoy your pillow top mattress and lobster tail in hell, kids!”

At least that would be truthful. We’d never admit it, but what we really want is for people to think we are a better person than they are. I hereby publicly plead guilty to this. “I’m changing the world, while you’re changing the channel and sitting on the couch.  I’m a better person. I’m a superior Christian. I care more about the poor than you do. I’m more obedient, therefore I have favor with the Lord and you don’t.  Neener, neener!”

Have you ever bragged about your good deeds via social media? ( I’ll do my best to respond, but I do have to deliver meals on wheels today, send in the check for the child I sponsor in Mozambique, and take my blind mother-in-law to the grocery store.)

For more great writing from Alicia , check out her blog.

Cheesy church sign sayings.

(It’s guest post Monday!  Here’s one by Laura Coulter. You can check out her blog here and follow her on Twitter @coulterlaura.  If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here’s how!)

Cheesy Church Sign Sayings.

Churches were pros at tweeting before Twitter, or even the Internet, existed. Why? Because it’s pretty tough to fit more than 40 characters on a rectangular church sign with replaceable letters (they’re also called reader boards, but who actually calls them that?). You know the ones I’m talking about—they’re equal parts cheese and good intentions.

You’d think signs such as these would be on their way toward becoming a lost art. But they’re just as prevalent as ever—making people snort and groan all the way from New England to Florida, especially in front of the small, rural, still-has-a-pyramid-steeple church.

I’ve always wondered who came up with the bright idea to ditch announcements or straight Bible verses on church signs and include a little bit of snarky Solomonic wisdom instead. Whoever they were, their tradition lives—on church signs, billboards, and even Facebook statuses.

Several years ago, my home church took this concept to the extreme. When the Hustler Hollywood adult store bought a billboard on a road near the church, we countered with a billboard of our own.

Directly above the Hustler billboard, in 10 billion point font, ours read: “Don’t Get Hustled. Give Your Life to Jesus.”

That’s right. And there were T-shirts, too—bright yellow ones. I’m sure our warning hustled some hustlers right out of their hustlin’ ways.

Billboards aside, my friend and I used to drive past a church with some of the best sign quips of all. One night, the sign-keepers (that title will be engraved on their heavenly crowns) were putting up the letters as we passed, and the saying was particularly bizarre (we can’t remember what it was).

“What?” We said as we both did a double-take to see the other side of the sign, which contained a solitary word: “What” (causing us to exclaim “What?!” again).

Around that time, we started to keep each other posted on all the crazy church signs we saw. And we’ve noticed some pretty… clever ones.

These efforts have made me a church sign aficionado of sorts, so I’ve picked up on a few trends.

There are four main types of these church sign sayings, though some combine more than one of the following:

1.   The Guilt Trip

“Go to church, or the devil will get you.”

I saw this lonely sign on the side of the road in Alabama probably ten years ago and still remember it vividly. It even had a cartoon devil—horns and trident included. Though theologically questionable, it sticks with you.

2.  The PSA

“Honk if you love Jesus. Text while driving if you want to meet Him.”

Because reading that sign while driving is keeping your attention on the road.

3.  The Pop Culture Reference

“We were Tebowing before it was cool.”

“Bring your sin to the altar and drop it like it’s hot.”

4.  The Just Downright Misleading

“We love hurting people.”

“Don’t let worries kill you. Let the church help.”

“Christmas: Easier to spell than Hanukkah.”

What church signs have grabbed your attention?

For more great writing from Laura, check out her blog at knownrenowned.com.

Passing the Communion Cups

(The manuscript for my next book is due this Friday. So this is guest post week! Here’s one by Katie McAleece. You can check out her blog here and follow her on Twitter @katiemcaleece.  If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here’s how!)

Passing the Communion Cups

You need to know your Church’s Communion schedule.

This is something that one of the deacons can probably provide to you; don’t be shy about asking for it. (Just trust me on this. You can thank me later.) You can also go the slightly more difficult route and try to figure it out on your own: take note of your next Communion Sunday in your phone, and then check the calendar when another one comes around. If it’s been three weeks since the last, it’ll probably be another three weeks until the next. That’s how it works. Nobody knows why, it’s just standard.

There are two very important reasons you need to know this:

First of all, you don’t want to show up wearing white on Communion Sunday. You will spill grape juice on yourself and have to do the walk of shame to the bathroom during service. It’s inevitable. The old people will shake their heads and sigh at you, your spouse will probably have a mini-panic-attack, and your friends will point and laugh. So you should know in advance–this way you can wear navy. Or black. Yeah, just wear black.

Secondly, armed with the knowledge of Communion Sunday’s coming up, you can choose your seating wisely. You’re not going to want to be that person stuck at the end of the row. Because you know what happens to end of the row-ers: they get the Communion cups.

Specifically, they receive a three foot high stack of cups that is ever-so-gently passed as you attempt to balance it with the skill of Houdini. It’s like an awkwardly designed Olympic torch.

Maybe no one is looking at me, you think to yourself. But, no, everyone is looking at you. Everyone is watching to see if you can handle the pressure: You are the bearer of the empty Communion cups. You have been chosen. Against your will, but chosen nevertheless. And if you drop those cups, the disappointment of God’s heavenly host will be upon you.

At least… it feels that way.

But if you know ahead of time if it’s communion Sunday, you can get ready. Especially if you’re visiting a church with a new friend. What if they do it differently? What if they don’t have cups but, instead, just have one glass and invite your whole aisle up? What if you’re the person who mistakenly grabs the cup and takes a drink while everyone else dips into the cup instead. If you’ve never done that before, how were you supposed to know this was a dip not drink situation? Because no one ever says, everyone just assumes you know. They never announce, “We’re going to partake in communion today. Please remember this is a dip moment, not a share your cough with the congregation moment.” You can’t say that from the pulpit. So no one does. And then you grab the cup and enter the annals of church infamy.

Lot of pressure, whole lot of pressure. And if you try to talk about it, someone is bound to Jesus Juke you, “You know what pressure I feel? The hand of God on my shoulder. That’s what I’m thinking about, not dip or drink you sweaty Philistine.”

At least don’t wear white. Regardless of the communion style of your church, that’s something we can all agree on.

Question:

How does your church do communion?

(For more great writing from Katie, check out her blog ActuallyKatie.)

CCM Magazine Was My Teen Beat

(The manuscript for my next book is due this Friday. So, this is guest post week!  Here’s one by Shannan Martin. You can check out Shannan’s blog here and follow her on Twitter @flowerpatchfg.  If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here’s how!)

CCM Magazine Was My Teen Beat

At fourteen years old, I was all knees and layered perm, taller than every girl in my class and most of the boys. I wasn’t allowed to wear make-up or go to school dances. To make matters worse, I wasn’t allowed to listen to Z-93, because Madonna was on there and she was sinful, throwing around words like “virgin.” Taylor Dayne sounded like she might be a smoker. Janet was a Jackson.

Good Christian girls just didn’t listen to secular music or buy heartthrob magazines. Everyone knew that 1 + 1 = a long, tortured road of lustful thoughts and eventual promiscuity.

To compensate my losses, Mom bought me a subscription to CCM magazine, and I was suddenly back in-the-know, at least on Sunday nights.

I spent hours perusing every interview. I pored over slick pages of attractive men with powdered noses and gel in their hair. They were trendy and tan, and they smiled straight at me.

I fell in love.

Of course it hurt when I heard that Michael W. Smith had eighteen kids. That he wasn’t dating Amy Grant was enough of a blow. That he was married was a given, a minor inconvenience. But something about all those kids hammered the coffin of our happily-ever-after shut. We weren’t meant to be. (At least I’d always have his Secret Ambition video on VHS.)

I moved on to Petra’s John Schlitt, mostly because he had longish hair and a Don Johnson blazer, all jewel-toned and shoved up at the elbows. His singing voice was strangely shrill, but I could love him in spite of it.

Then there was DC Talk. My best friend Sarah was quick to claim Toby as her own, but I had already secretly picked Kevin, or as I liked to call him, K-Max. Never mind that he was a foot shorter than me. We’d be like the musician/supermodel combos that I’d sneaked peaks at in the check-out lanes at Kroger.

Carmen was the David Copperfield of the industry, all flinty-eyed and dark. I wasn’t foolish or uncool enough to admit to that crush, but his voice-overs never failed to give me goose-bumps.

The Newsboys had me brushing up on my Aussie accent. Steven Curtis Chapman made me reconsider the mullet. In a strange twist marked with hazy details, my friend Lyndsay and I embarked on a years-long, quasi-serious, shared affection for Russ Taff, already sliding off stage left and into his golden years.

I clipped pictures of glammed-up Christian men wearing smoldery grins and taped them to the walls of my closet, right next to the faceless, oiled torsos of the free Soloflex calendar that had somehow fallen through the cracks of my parents’ logic.

This was the way I (mis)spent my youth, day-dreaming about married men twice my age. But hey, unlike Neil Patrick Harris or Jason Priestley, they had Jesus in their hearts. And that was the important thing.

(For more great writing from Shannan, check out her blog at flowerpatchfarmgirl.)

Happy Memorial Day!

I hope you get the chance to do something fun like roll out a slip n’ slide or throw water balloons at people. Both of those things are fun.

To my grandfather, my friends in the service and all the troops, thank you for serving our country!

Stuff Christians Like returns tomorrow.

The Amen Synonym.

(It’s guest post Friday!  Here’s a great one from Ken Hagerman. You can follow Ken on Twitter @RamblingBarba and you can read his blog at Rambling With The Barba.  If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here’s how!)

Caught Somewhere In The  Middle

Have you noticed, over the last few years, the alarming rate at which the average churchgoer uses the word “Amen” in place of the word “Yes?”

Who instituted the “Amen for Yes” lexicon upgrade?

All that Amen-ing may get you in the affirmative with your congregation, but it doesn’t travel well outside of the Christian environment. Unless, of course, you live in the South (Bible Belt country) or Branson, Missouri, you may find yourself wishing you had a guide that alleviates this stressful decision-making conundrum. Wish no more.

To keep you from the embarrassing dilemma of the Amen Religious Affirmation Syndrome, I have written a few pointers. These are sure to help you navigate the often turbulent seas of positivity.

You are allowed to use the word Amen, in substitution for the word Yes, if:

1. You are on the church property, to include inside the building, in the gym or in the parking lot.

I know this seems like a no-brainer, but many have mistakenly reserved their deified version of “I’m down wit dat” for service times only. Nope. As long as you are on the church “campus,” our new favorite word, you can say “Amen.”

2. You are at a restaurant immediately following a service or meeting, and there are other church members in the establishment.

The rule is that the ambient churchiness has hitched a ride on your aura, uh, spirit. The wait staff are professionals. Don’t worry, some may even be Christian, so they will surely understand the lingo. There is one “amendum” to the restaurant rule—the buffet.

3. You are at any buffet-styled eatery.

Case studies have documented that the word “buffet” is more closely associated with Christians than any other group except for retirees. It’s safe to say in this environment that there are enough Jesus people bellied up to the hot bar to support the use of Amen.

4. You are at Chick-fil-A.

Amen all day, son! All day! Except Sunday, of course. They’re closed. Not sure if you knew that or not.

5. You are having a conversation with the pastor or an elder.

The locale of this conversation is not nearly as important as those involved. Sure, you may be discussing the merits of selective mating among your milk goat populace, but it’s the pastor. You have to ratchet up the Yes-to-Amen ratio. (How niche was that example? Be honest: Have you ever seen the phrase “milk goat populace?” If you are a milk goat farmer though, I bet you said “Yes!” or Amen as it were.)

You are NOT allowed to use Amen in substitution for the word Yes if:

1. You are eating at Hooters.

Regardless of how many church members are there, it just doesn’t float well. It tends to “harshen up the hot wing mellow.”

2. You are watching a publicly televised national championship game and your team just clinched the title with a clutch play.

This is a “YES!” moment. No arguments. Yes is the only acceptable answer.

3. You are attending seminary.

I know this is a tricky one. You would think with all the Bible, God and church-ness happening this would be prime Amen real estate, but it’s not. You will immediately be branded a fake. Authenticity is the name of the game here. Your only hope of recovering from a slip of the A-word here is if you happen to have a caveman beard like David Crowder. The beard gets a bye.

Hopefully this little primer helped educate you on the proper use of Amen in place of Yes and stabilized an otherwise tumultuous situation.

So, do you ever say Amen instead of Yes? Do you have any rules to add?

(To read more from Ken, check out his RamblingBarba blog.)