Jon Acuff's Blog, page 108

The 10 Commandments of Chick-fil-A

A lot of people know I'm an expert on Chick-fil-A, mostly because I keep telling them that.

But also because I've written about "chicken church" a number of times in the past.

What I've failed to do, though, is share the 10 Commandments of Chick-fil-A.

That changes today my friend. That changes right now:

The 10 Commandments of Chick-fil-A

1. Thou Bible study has an 89% greater chance of survival if you hold it at a Chick-fil-A.

Doubt me? Go ahead and hold it at Starbucks. By week three, you'll all be using Macs, wearing scarves, and not talking to each other. Or "not doing life together," if you prefer.

2. Thou shalt not try to trick employees into forgetting to say "My pleasure."

Stop it. You say "Thank you." They say, "My pleasure." This is how things work.

3. Thou shalt pray if you desire, but you don't need to since the food comes pre-blessed.

Go ahead and do a bonus prayer. That can't hurt, but rest assured that you're covered either way.

4. Thou shalt feel like you're tithing when you eat there.

Technically, there's no offering bucket passed around, but it still feels like that when you spend money at Chick-fil-A.

5. Thou shalt crave Chick-fil-A more on Sunday than any other day of the week.

This is happening. The thought of a chicken biscuit has never tasted so delicious as on the day you can't have one.

6. Thou shalt be tempted to complain at other restaurants you go to.

I don't know where Chick-fil-A keeps finding polite, happy employees who don't seem upset that I came in to try to give them my money, but they need to sprinkle some of them at other restaurants. If you feel this way and get chastised at another restaurant because you asked for a second packet of ketchup, I feel your pain.

7. Thou shalt turn the kids meal toy into a free ice cream cone.

It's not exactly water into wine, but, as far as my kids are concerned, it's close enough. You trade in the kids meal toy and get ice cream in return. Yahtzee!

8. Thou shalt not abuse the free refills of sweet tea.

Don't you dare bring an old cup in for a refill, son.

9. Thou shalt not take Chick-fil-A for granted.

The second you do, your friend who lives in one of those barren "Chick-fil-A-less" wasteland states will remind you how lucky you are.

Where's the 10th commandment? Ah, that's where you come in. Often the comments are funnier than the posts on SCL. And I think your 10th commandment might be funnier than mine.

So here's the mic.

What would your Chick-fil-A commandment be?

Calling God By His First Name

(It's guest post Friday!  Here's one from Alicia Yost who blogs about being a mom at AmericasNextTopMommy.  If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here's how!)

Calling God By His First Name

I once went to a church where a woman, a self-confirmed prayer expert, called another woman out on the way she prayed.

"I say this in love, but you are praying incorrectly. You can't just talk and not address your heavenly father by name.  You must say, 'Lord' and then follow it up with your request.  I wouldn't want your prayers to go unanswered."

The woman who'd been called out went red in the face because, you see, this had been pointed out during a prayer group and now everyone was staring at her.  She started to cry.

"I'm just trying to be helpful.  There is a right way and a wrong way to pray," said the expert.

I didn't see what the woman had done wrong.  I usually pray the exact same way she had, but apparently we've both been doing it all wrong.  Obviously, God is very picky when you dial his number.  You must include a prefix code of "thou" or "Lord".  If you don't, he will assume you are a crank call and hang up in your ear and then screen your calls.

I was sure glad that I hadn't spoken up in prayer because my prayers are almost always of such a personal nature that I often times start mid-sentence.  I'm also prone to what I call "spurt prayers."  I will sometimes pray in tiny little spurts when I'm thinking about things so I don't forget them later.  When I'm driving by the school I say, "please look after my kids today as they go through their school day. Remind them that you are always with them.  And that you're watching so they better not pick their noses and eat their boogers."

Then I start writing out a mental grocery list.

Other times, when I'm in line at a red light, I'll look over at someone who just looks like they are having a bad day and I'll say, "I don't know this person, but he sure does look like he needs you right now.  Please follow him wherever he goes and fill him with peace."

Then I turn up the radio and start jamming to "Moves Like Jagger."  Like I said, spurts.

Later, when I have time to devote, I will pray in earnest.  These prayers are most always not about something I want or need but about giving thanks.

"Thank you for this beautiful day, okay so maybe it's cloudy but it's still beautiful.  Thank you for the fact that I woke up at all.  Thank you for my silly husband and sweet children, my friends and family. Thank you for my home and our security. I don't deserve these things above anyone else, and why you chose me to bestow them on while there are people living in refugee camps, I will never know but I thank you.  Thank you for my health (remind me to eat more fiber) and for loving me when I'm completely un-loveable and unable to even love myself.  Thank you for pursuing me so ferociously when I played so hard to get and for second chances and for grace that I will never fully comprehend.  Thank you for all of it, everything you've ever given and will give me.  Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Sometimes I pretend that God and I Skype.  Like we have a 3:00 meeting and I sit down, tuck my hair behind my ears, and say, "It's me……..".  He always smiles.  Sometimes he winks while he points his finger at me.  I usually do this when I need some serious advice or when I'm super confused about something.  He always listens but sometimes he doesn't stay on task (my task).  One time, during one of our conversations, he was way off base.

If you've never heard from God, let me tell you how he talks to me.  It's like a thought in my head that pops in from out of nowhere and is so loud that it sounds like a loud speaker. It's always unreasonable and so foreign that it's very clear that the thoughts do not belong to me.  I most always feel invaded.  The thoughts will play over and over again, like a flat tire that keeps on thumping until I finally stop and tend to it.

"Hey, remember that girl Danielle that you used to work with, like, ten years ago? Maybe you should call her out of the blue.  She used to invite you to church all of the time and was really nice to you!" he said.

"What? Are you crazy? I haven't talked to her in, like, well ten years.  I don't know where she is, what she's doing, how to reach her.  Let's please get back to my problems, shall we?"

"You could probably find her on Facebook you know? Look her up, Look Her Up, LOOK.HER.UP!"

"AAHHH! If I will, would you kindly stop shouting in my head?"

"Maybe. Tell her that you appreciated how she brought you to church and how you didn't find me then but eventually you did.  You found me, you looooooove me (I imagined him fanning his face) and that she was part of your journey, and I used her for that and want to keep using her for great things."

"This is crazy. She's going to think I'm crazy."

"So?" he said.

I got up, opened my browser, and logged into Facebook all the while rolling my eyes.  This is really pretty stupid you know.  I let out a long sigh as I thought to myself.  I don't have time for this.  I need help.  I need advice. I need guidance.  Isn't that what God is for? Isn't he supposed to help me? I was just praying for his guidance and instead I'm here running crazy errands.  Good grief!

I typed in Danielle's name, and she immediately popped up.  I sent her a friend request and a message.

"Hi Danielle.  You're going to think I've completely lost my mind but I just wanted to say 'hi' and tell you how much I appreciate how you took me to church with you back when because, while I didn't know God then, I do now (he's looking over my shoulder right now and tapping his foot). Please know that he loves you, and he used you to bring me to him. He wants to use you again."

I sent the message, half embarrassed.  She's going to think I've completely fallen off my rocker, I thought. I went on with my day and, a few hours later, when I checked Facebook there was a note from Danielle.  She had accepted my friend request and her message said this:

"I left the church about five years ago. I was deeply hurt by my many things that happened with our pastor and haven't been close to God since then.  Last week, I went to church for the first time since I left and just this morning I was praying to God, for him to let me know if I was doing the right thing by going back.  Would it be okay this time? Would I be able to return and start fresh?  I'm writing this with tears falling onto my  keyboard.  Thank you SO much for messaging me!"

I rolled my office chair away from the desk and sat very still. Did that just happen? In one fell swoop God had answered both of our prayers.  He had distracted me from myself and refocused my purpose while simultaneously reassuring Danielle.

And I didn't even say "thou."

(For more great stuff from Alicia, check out her blog at AmericasNextTopMommy.)

3 reasons I didn't unfriend you on Facebook. (1 reason I am.)

If you follow me on Facebook, you're probably going to get unfriended in the next month or so.

Why?

Well here are the three reasons I am not unfriending you:

1. You love ferrets.

I don't, but that's no reason to unfriend someone. So you built a little maze in your living room called "San Ferretcisco" for your luxury rat to scamper through. I'm not judging. Your love of ferrets has nothing to do with this unfriend.

2. Too many barefoot waterskiing photos.

No such thing, my friend. Keep them coming. That's not a problem at all.

3. I wanted to Jesus Juke your Hunger Games status updates.

You know what I hunger for? Jesus and church. Nope, not going to do that to you. I promise.

So why am I going on an unfriending rampage? One reason:

1. It's time for Facebook to be fun.

For the last two years, I haven't done anything on Facebook. I even named myself "Jonathan Christopher" because I thought it wouldn't last. (How visionary am I? Wow!) But now, I'm realizing the personal page I have is really limited. And the new page I have access to is really fun. We can have even bigger conversations on that one than on my old one. Plus, Facebook has a new timeline feature that we've created some original content for. It might be one of the most ridiculously fun things I've done and it will go live on Sunday.

So I'm going to focus on that page now and say farewell to my old page.

How do you get connected to the new page?

Click this link and hit the "Like" button.

Did you do it yet? No? OK, here's another opportunity.

Click this link and hit the "Like" button.

Thanks for doing that. I can't wait for you to see the timeline we designed on Sunday.

And good luck with San Ferretcisco. I'm still a fan.

Apologizing after an April Fool's Day Prank – The Terror Level Color Coded Apology System

Pranks aren't by nature unique to Christianity. That I'm aware of, there's no recorded history of C.S. Lewis pantsing J.R.R. Tolkien. Pranks by themselves don't really fit the formula of this site, but apologizing after? Serving penance for a church-related prank that went horribly wrong or even horribly right? That's us through and through.

But the truth is, you don't need this post today. You should file it away for the day after April Fool's Day. If you're going to pull some shenanigans or tomfoolery or perhaps even get in a donnybrook, this Sunday is your day. Live it up.

But after, when your youth minister or senior pastor or local reporter stumbles upon the prank you have perpetuated, when like Richard Marx you realize "you should have known better" than to fit that many bees into so small a sleeping bag, you'll be glad this post so clearly laid out the categories of prank apologies, based on the terror level color coded system the United States used until last year:

Category 1: Green – Low Risk Prank

Hey look at that! You stuck some forks in someone's yard, but you didn't break them off because that felt too mean and unChristlike. And you called a few people from church and hung up on them when they answered the phone. That's adorable. This barely requires an apology.

Apology Required: Facebook Status Change

Change your Facebook status to something like, "Sorry about the prank. Hope nobody's feelings got hurt." Or "Kids will be kids."

Category 2: Blue – General Risk Prank

That's not going to grow back. I'm just saying, when you put that much on at once, and mix it with that other thing, wow, you're leaving a permanent impression. I mean it's not that big, but neighbors are going to see it for at least the next six months.

Apology Required: Email

You better send the victim an email. Nothing long, just a few lines about your deep regret for your actions and how your immaturity sometimes gets the better of you, and at the end of the day you both love Jesus, so no hard feelings.

Category 3: Yellow – Significant Risk Prank

Prank Elders are kind of like elephants, they never forget and I'm pretty sure that guy isn't going to. Where do you even get those? They're just so fast and jumpy. I'm assuming you know a guy that knows a guy, but is there any chance that guy knows a guy that can get them out of the elder's house? It's not going to be easy because they seem so motivated and reproductive but maybe we could smoke them out?

Apology Required: Phone Call

Forget the Internet. You've entered into real apology time now. Pick up the phone and be ready to outline what you did, as well as the three things you learned from this tragic mistake of a prank you pulled. (If you can't think of three things, feel free to use one of my go to lines when I've bombed, "Turns out I'm dumb.") I keep learning that lesson and it's always a nice way to round out a list.

Category 4: Orange – High Risk Prank

Yeah, but you knew it was the senior pastor's house right? I've got to assume you did because even the youth minister was in on this one. On a positive note, at least we know the fire department can find his house. And their response time, wow! Very impressive. I told you that was highly flammable, but to hear the fire chief use the phrase "river of lava," wow. You're going to need to get a paper route to pay this one back or raise money online or hold a car wash at Chick-fil-A.

Apology Required: Face to Face

This goes beyond a simple phone call. You might need to hand write a note, call ahead to set up the official apology, and then bring over some sort of casserole. This apology is going to be as complicated as the prank was. The general rule for a face-to-face apology is that you have to spend three minutes apologizing for every one minute you spent pulling off the prank. So if it took you 30 minutes to do the prank, expect 90 minutes of "sorry" in your future.

Category 5: Red – Severe Risk Prank

The community will heal. I mean we're a very resilient group of people. We've faced hardship before and this, that thing you did to all of us in one fell swoop, we'll get through that. And the cats will come back someday. They are a proud animal and probably left out of embarrassment more than anything else. They'll come back. I know they will.

Apology Required: Speech to the Church Congregation

May God have mercy on your soul if you ever have to apologize to the whole congregation from the pulpit. I've never had to do this, but if you find yourself in this position, whatever you do, don't take questions from the crowd. Don't open the meeting up to Q&A. You are going to come out on the losing end of this one. And I'm not telling you to fake cry, but you might want to fake cry.

Hopefully this list will make April 2nd easier for all of us that decide to pull a prank on April 1st.

What's the best prank you ever took part in?

What's the best prank someone pulled on you?

 

(This is a Throwback Thursday post that appeared on SCL a few years ago.)

The map & the plan.

I want a plan.

I want a 10-year vision with details and steps and instructions.

I want to map out the next 40 years of my life and know exactly where I am going and how I am going to get there.

And every time I pray about that desire, every time I ask God for that, his answer is really simple:

"No."

Maybe you're having the same conversation with him I'm having right now. Everyone told you that college was going to be the "best years of your life," and you're a sophomore and they haven't happened yet. Or you're a junior and graduation isn't a release, it's a time bomb waiting to send you into the worst employment situation we've had since World War II.

Maybe you had a picture of how marriage was going to be. But in what felt like a blink of an eye, the word "divorced" was added to your bio.

Maybe you're unemployed, and it feels like you lost more than just your job, you lost your identity.

Maybe you can't imagine sitting in a cubicle for the next 40 years of your life. Little kids don't dream about growing up to be what you became.

Regardless of the path you took, a lot of us end up in the same place – the woods of life.

The trees are darker than we thought, the path more difficult to find, the way home wholly lost.

And so we turn to God asking for a plan and he says, "No." Or he doesn't say anything, which feels like no in most ways.

That's exactly where I found myself three-and-a-half years ago.

It was November 5, 2008. Stuff Christians Like had existed for 9 months. It was growing, but I didn't know why. I was going somewhere with my writing, but I didn't know where. I felt stuck and confused, sitting in a cubicle for 40 hours a week at an IT day job while this other thing started to tug at my sleeve.

And so I wrote in my journal a lot, especially on that Monday, because I'd just visited Dave Ramsey's office for the first time.

I spoke to his whole team, and it was the second time I'd ever spoken professionally. I had no idea what I was doing as a blogger, a speaker or a writer, but when presented the opportunity to speak there, I took it. And it went well.

A week later, I was back in my cubicle, back in my normal life, and frustrated with the thought that there was something else I was supposed to be doing.

This is what I wrote down in my journal:

"God, I'm afraid of giving the Stuff Christians Like blog everything I have and getting my hopes and dreams tied up in it because at some point it will end. It will disappear and I'm afraid that when that happens I'll be left with nothing."

As a way to prevent myself from being hurt, I've inappropriately taken the attitude before of "If I don't care that much or get that excited, I can't be hurt that much if things don't work out." This is a toxic way to go through life, but that's where I was at that moment. Afraid to let go. Afraid to let loose.

This is how I felt like God responded to my fear of giving too much to Stuff Christians Like. I didn't see these words written on a wall or receive them from a burning bush. This is just what I heard in my heart and scribbled down in my notebook:

"Good, you're right to fear that Stuff Christians Like will go away. Because that will happen. It will vanish and evaporate one day. That's why I don't want you to give your all to the site. I want you to give your all to me. I want all your hopes and all your dreams.

Because I am unchanging. I will not go away. I will not fade, I will not vanish. I am the great I am. I and I alone can make that statement. You can't see it right now. Your eyes are blind to the things I'm doing, but know that in the mosaic of my mind, the only mind that spans generations, I am preparing you for something. I am tilling your heart and your soul right now. I am stirring up everything you think you know about you and me because I am preparing you for something. And what that is, I will not say, but know that it is mine, and things that are mine begin in love and end in love and they never make sense to the human mind because my designs are too wonderful to fathom."

At the time I wrote that, I could have never imagined I'd one day join Dave Ramsey's team. I didn't know that we'd move to Nashville. I didn't know I'd get to write books or travel around the country or do any of the ridiculous things that have happened in the last three years.

But God knew, even if he refused to tell me.

I don't know where your path is going to lead. I don't really know where mine will lead next, to tell you the truth, but I don't need to.

Because if I could tell you one thing today, I know what I'd say. In fact, if I could build a time machine and go back to that frustrated, angry, confused Jon Acuff that scribbled in a 5 star notebook in his car before he went inside to start his day job, I'd tell him the same thing:

You don't need a perfect map for your life. You've already got a perfect Messiah. And, though it feels impossible to believe sometimes and doesn't match your expectations, he's got a plan more wondrous than you can even imagine.

Dangerous Youth Group Games

The photo at the bottom of this post is probably going to make me look like I have anger issues.

But in my defense, I made it very clear about what was going to happen that night.

The setup is simple. I was invited to speak at an awesome youth retreat at a church called Grand Avenue Baptist. (Fun fact: The youth minister's name is Aaron Rodgers, and he beat the Green Bay QB to Twitter. He's @AaronRodgers, the QB is @AaronRodgers12.) The event was a blast and concluded on Saturday night with a dodgeball game.

During the day, we did a Q&A session in which I told the students:

"Just so we're clear. I'm going to talk a lot about grace and mercy today, but tonight on that dodgeball court, there will be none."

I resisted the urge to say "there is no pain in this dojo," because if you're 16, the Karate Kid movie came out when you were negative 10 years old.

I spoke that night. Then, as promised, I took the court. Looking back on it, there's probably a list of things you shouldn't do when you go speak at a church. I bet that list would include:

1. Swim in the baptismal.

2. Steal money from the offering buckets.

3. Make fun of mimes.

And 4…. Hit one of the students in the back with a dodgeball as hard as you can.

In my defense, I grew up with some dangerous youth group games. Dodgeball was soft in comparison. One of our favorite games at Centrifuge, a camp I attended, was called "kidnap someone out of line in the cafeteria and throw them in the most disgusting pond known to man."

That's a long name, but it was a pretty delightful activity. We had another one that involved wheeled wooden vehicles, a laundry basket, a ball and as many elbows as you could throw without being caught.

And I can't be the only one who has played a dangerous youth group game.

What's the best game you ever played at youth group?

 

p.s. Check the form in my throw. Like a tightly wound spring. No wasted motion, all core.

 

Realizing you're the only Christian who hasn't …

Sometimes, after I speak at a conference, someone will come up to my book table and say, "I'd never heard of you before today, sorry."

My response is always the same.

"That's nothing to be sorry about. You are a member of a very large group of people that includes most humans on this planet."

Then we both laugh and I try to sell them a ten pack of Quitter.

Not knowing who I am does not make you rare. Not having read The Hunger Games makes you rare.

I am currently part of that elite circle. There are 7 of us. We don't get coffee or have matching mustaches, but I know the other 6 are out there somewhere. And that is enough for me.

I didn't do it on purpose. I am not waging a silent, clearly unsuccessful, campaign against The Hunger Games. I hear great things and might read the books some day. Not reading them just sort of happened. And it's happened with other books too. Most notably: Every book ever written by Tim Keller.

I might be the only literate Christian who has not read a book by Tim Keller. Everyone I love and respect, loves and respects Tim Keller.

And when I talk about the Bible, or God or life, inevitably one of my friends will say, "Keller has a book on that subject. Have you read it?" I could say, "I've been thinking a lot about the implications of Elijah's fiery ascent to heaven and what it says about modern day hang gliding," and a friend will say to me, "Keller changed my life with his book about hang gliding. Have you read it?"

I then shake my head with shame and say, "No, I keep meaning to, but I haven't. I heard Prodigal God is amazing. I'm dumb. I'm sorry."

The sad thing is, I know exactly what is going to happen. It's the same thing that happened to me with Coldplay. I waited until their second or third album to listen to them. Then I finally got around to it and fell in love. I proceeded immediately to tell everyone about this "new band Coldplay."

I'm going to read a Keller book in a month or two, then tell the rest of the world about this new guy Tim Keller.

Going through that experience over and over again made me curious about whether I'm the only one this has happened to?

Are you the Christian who has never eaten at Chick-fil-A?

Are you the one who hasn't seen Fireproof?

Are you still, despite my many posts about the subject, refusing to obey the 11th Commandment? Journaling during your quiet time?

Those are a few I thought of, but I bet you've got your own. As you think on it, allow me to introduce you to this new musician I just discovered. Her name is Adele. Trust me on this one. This girl is going places.

Question:

What's a book, CD, or event it seems like every Christian but you has experienced?

Spontaneous Meal Prayer: A How To Guide

(It's guest post Friday!  Here's a great one from Joel Stepanek.  You can follow Joel on Twitter @lt_jstepanek.  If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here's how!)

Spontaneous Meal Prayer: A How-To Guide

The day was beautiful, everyone was smiling, and my sister and her new husband were simply beaming. The wedding ceremony had been emotional and moving and now it was time to have the introduction of the wedding party and newly married couple. And then, we were going to stuff our faces full of food.

As I waited in line to be introduced, my mind turned to thoughts about the meal I was soon to eat. I was interrupted by a tugging at my sleeve.

"Um, Joel, I know I forgot to ask you this earlier, but could you lead meal prayer?"

Literally five minutes before dinner was about to start, I had been asked to lead a meal prayer in front of 200 of our closest friends and family. Well, her closest friends and family. And probably some people who just showed up randomly.

I should have just said no. I could have panicked. But I was calm, cool, and collected. Why, you ask? Because I knew the situation and the things to say that can create a spontaneous meal prayer that will make people think you are about ten times holier than you actually are and that you spent hours writing it out to perfection. Nothing screams "living saint" like a home-run meal prayer. And today I want to share my secrets with you.

There are four main meal prayer situations you can find yourself in. Select your situation below, and take note of the key "things to say" and "things not to say." Any mix of these ideas with proper insertion of nouns, verbs, adjectives and a judicious use of the word "just" will make for a killer meal prayer that will have people saying, "Please sir or madam, if you only say the word my food shall be blessed."

1. Small Family Meal:

Things to Say: happiness, community, loving, thankfulness, Jesus. In this situation, it's always good to ask for blessings on specific family members who prepared the meal and will clean the dishes. This also indicates in a loving way that, because you were asked to lead the meal prayer, you will not be doing dishes.

Things To Avoid: giving thanks that your mother-in-law didn't do the cooking, offering a joke about that time you all got food poisoning from bad chicken, passive-aggressively asking God to bless family members you are fighting with, calling the people you are eating with "heathens," and excessively using the word "just."

2: Family Reunion:

Things to Say: Remembering relatives who have passed away, asking God to bless the entire family, praying in thankfulness for Grandma's pie that she so graciously spent hours baking (but you and everyone else knows that she bought at Wal-Mart).

Things to Avoid: Remembering the time a WWE match broke out over the last scoop of potato salad at the reunion of '04, prayer gossiping about a relative who couldn't make it because of "unexpected life circumstances," praying in thanksgiving for Grandma's Wal-Mart pie.

3. Wedding:

Things to Say: Mention the word "love" at least 3 times, forever, lifetime of happiness, express thankfulness for bride and groom, ask God to bless their marriage with "abundance."

Things not to Say: "divorce," "unhappiness," "last-form-of-legal-slavery," "Kate Plus 8," and "weight gain" should be avoided at all costs, thanking God for saving the groom's life the night of the bachelor party, expressing the fact that the bride still owes you $50.

4. Funeral:

Things to Say: Resurrection, forgiveness, and eternal life all bode well in this situation. Go with something sincere and from your heart." If not, consider some poetry or perhaps a haiku. Unless of course, the person hated poetry – then maybe avoid that one.

Things not to Say: Black infinite abyss, eternal darkness, "he led a less than admirable life, but hey, only God can judge," and "nougat." Nougat, while generally acceptable in all other prayers, really doesn't fit the bill here.

These four formulas can certainly be mixed and matched. At a dinner with the in-laws? Consider combining small family meal with funeral. Have a 500 person family wedding? Family Reunion and wedding work will be your ticket. The possibilities are endless, but one thing is for certain: The next time someone asks you to pray five minutes before dinner at any event, you can respond confidently, "Definitely can, because I am much holier than you." And really, that's what it's all about.

Go get 'em kid.

SCLQ – Let's graffiti a church van.

Last week, my wife and I saw a church van driving down the highway.

We immediately took a photo because of what was written on the back door.

And, don't worry, my wife took the photo. I didn't try to take it while I was driving. My job was to drive close enough for her to get the photo. I offered to put our car up on two wheels if that would have helped, but like most of my offers for car stunts, she passed.

Here is the photo:

 

It's a little dark, something two wheels would have fixed, so if you can't read it, it says:

"Knock and it shall be opened … Matt. 7:7"

My first 2 thoughts were:

1. Am I the one that thinks it's funny when we abbreviate Bible names? It just looks so weird. "The book of Matt." That's like saying, "Did you read that new study from Beth Moore? It covers all four chapters of Jimmy."

2. If I was going to paint a verse on the back of a van, what would it be?

That first thought was ridiculous, but that second one? Now we've got a bit of a conversation, a "caption this church van" situation, if you will.

So that's today's challenge. You've got a church van and can paint any part of it with any part of the Bible.

I'm coming right out of the gate with the story of Elisha calling down those attack bears on the teenagers. You put that thing on the back of your van, and no one is going to tailgate you.

What verse or story would you paint?

10 most popular SCL posts in the last 4 years.

Four years ago today, this blog started.

I started it because I grew up in the church and it always weirded me out that sometimes we Christians didn't use our best creativity to celebrate who we believe is the Creator of all creativity.

We tend to take a popular idea from secular culture, sprinkle a little God flavor on it, and turn it into a church idea.

"Got milk?" becomes "Got God?"

"Burger King" becomes "King of Kings."

"Adidas" becomes "Add Jesus."

So when the satire site "Stuff White People Like" blew up, written by the talented Christian Lander, I got an idea.

"What if I talked about this problem by committing this problem?"

That would kind of be ironic or postmodern or other words I didn't really understand the meaning of at the time.

So on March 21, 2008, I wrote the very first post:

Stuff Christians Like: #1. Putting a God Spin on Popular Secular Ideas.

I wrote 40 posts and backloaded them starting on January 1 so that you didn't see 40 posts all crammed onto March 21.

I thought I would write about this concept for a week or two, and then drop it like the other 50 URLs I had registered on GoDaddy.com. (One can only wonder what would have happened if I had given my brilliant idea of 'wordninja.com' the old college try.)

I didn't think anyone would read it, much like the other blogs I had started in the past. But then people started to. People like Katdish and Nick the Geek and Curtis Honeycutt and Stacy from Louisville and Hucklebuck and Bryan Allain. People started commenting and encouraging each other and laughing along with each other at all the silly things we do in the context of church and faith.

We even developed a mission:

"To clear away the clutter of Christianity so that we can see the beauty of Christ."

That's the only thing I've tried to do these last four years. (That and make you laugh.)

A lot has happened in the last four years. The blog got turned into a book and a calendar and a cologne. (One of those has not happened. Yet.) We moved to Nashville to join the Dave Ramsey team. What was once just something I did on the side of my day job has become my dream job. The book Quitter and the Quitter Conference grew out of that, as I really felt called to help other people find their passions the same way I had.

Normally, Wednesday is "Serious Wednesday," a day you helped me develop and have encouraged me to continue. And next week, we'll continue that tradition. But today, it felt right to stop for a second and tell you something I can't possibly tell you enough:

Thank you.

Thank you for reading this blog.

Thank you for commenting with ideas that are often funnier than the actual post I've written.

Thank you for believing that SCL could be a book and then buying the book when it came out.

Thank you for supporting me, even during times when the writing wasn't great and my focus on what mattered most was clearly lost.

And, most importantly, thank you for supporting the ministries Stuff Christians Like supports. You guys raised more than $100,000 with Samaritan's Purse, SafeWorld and HelloSomebody.

Let me repeat that.

Stuff Christians Like readers raised over $100,000.

You built two kindergartens in the jungles of Vietnam. You sent 3,000 mosquito nets to Uganda. You sent 6 Rwandan young men through a leadership program.

That is so awesome that it makes my head spin.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

This is the moment in the Grammy acceptance speech when they start playing music so you'll shut up. (Dave Grohl I wanted to hear what you had to say!)

Since I don't have music, instead I'll stop talking and share the 10 most popular posts in the last four years of Stuff Christians Like. (I'd say, "Here's to four more years," but that sounds like I'm running for president and not writing a satire blog. So here's to tomorrow. I'm looking forward to seeing what the next year brings all of us on Stuff Christians Like.)

10 most popular SCL posts in the last 4 years:

1. Understanding how metrosexual your worship leader is.

2. Booty, God, Booty

3. Saying, "I'll pray for you" and then not.

4. The Jesus Juke

5. Leg dropping elves.

6. Running into famous Christians. (AKA "The Michael W. Smith" incident.)

7. Hand raising worship – The 10 styles

8. Surviving church as a single.

9. The side hug. (Had to write a disclaimer on this one.)

10. Thinking you're naked.