Jon Acuff's Blog, page 119

New Stuff Christians Like Daily Calendar!

100% easier to finish than your read-through-the-Bible-in-one-year plan.

77% funnier than the book of Deuteronomy.

It's the Stuff Christians Like Daily Desk Calendar!

We've talked about doing this for years and it's finally here. Each day contains a remix of one of the best posts from the site, including Serious Wednesdays.

It's portable.

It's awesome.

It's inexpensive.

It's the perfect gift for any Christian on your list. (It's impossible to Christmas shop for Christians. You either have to buy them a new Bible or a precious moments figurine. Except this year!)

But, we didn't print a bunch. It's limited edition. And not in a "drive sales with the word limited so that you can sell a lot and then print more kind of" way. We did one print run and when they sell out, we're not printing any more.

So buy one for yourself today. Buy one for your pastor. Buy one for your youth minister. Buy one for a friend. Throw one in a stocking. It's really your call.

Click here to order the Stuff Christians Like Daily Desk Calendar.

SCLQ – The Follow List

A few weeks ago, I had a meeting with Twitter.

Not the entire company all at once, but rather one particular person named Claire Diaz-Ortiz. Claire is the head of corporate social innovation and philanthropy at Twitter. She also wrote a book called Twitter for Good  about how you can change the world one tweet at a time. She's got a fascinating story, and it was fun to hear what Twitter is doing to be intentional about helping people. But Claire had one question for me, and this is it:

"Who should we put on the official Twitter Religion list?"

At the top of Twitter, there's a link that says "Who to follow." If you click on that, you can choose a topic list and see a small list that Twitter has cultivated over the last few years of interesting people to follow. If you clicked on "music," for instance, you'd see people like Chris Cornell, Eminem, Jazon Mraz, Coldplay, etc. In social media terms, it's a big deal to be on the list because hundreds of thousands of people see it and follow you as a result.

So now Twitter is going to do a religion list and asked me whom I thought should be on it? Not just from a who has the most followers or is most famous perspective, but who in the world of Christianity is tweeting amazing things, doing amazing things and living a big, loud faith online?

I gave her a long list of suggestions, including my friend @itsalandrews who everyone should follow, but I felt like you might be better equipped to answer the question than I am.

If you use Twitter, who is someone you follow that you'd love to see on the Twitter religion list?

If you don't use Twitter, who is someone you love that you'd like to see on the list?

Covet 2.0

Long before there were American Girl Dolls, shout out to Kirsten (rest in peace), there were Cabbage Patch Dolls.

They were the Tickle-me-Elmo of the Christmas craze one year. (I just used an old reference to explain an older reference. Let me try that again.)

They were the Wii of the Christmas craze one year. (Still not relevant? Last time.)

They were the Quitter of the Christmas craze one year. Everyone wanted one, much like the book Quitter this Christmas, and people got in shoving matches over these simple dolls.

The story behind them was that the dolls were born in a cabbage patch, delivered by nurses and then brought to your house via a stork. At the Cabbage Patch headquarters in North Georgia, you could actually go see the dolls born and delivered by people dressed as nurses. That sounds a little weird, but kids loved the experience and flocked there in droves.

One day, my friend and her husband brought their kids to the Cabbage Patch hospital. When their young daughters weren't looking, they bought a doll. Their plan was to hide it in the trunk of their car without their youngest daughter seeing it, then give it to her a few months later on Christmas. Bad idea.

The "nurse" who "delivered" the cabbage patch "baby" walked out to "the" (sorry got on a roll there) car to see the family off. When the nurse saw my friend's husband put the Cabbage Patch doll in the car, she freaked out.

She ran over and said, "You can't put that baby in the trunk. She won't be able to breathe!" Stupified, the dad responded, "Uh, it's just a doll." But the nurse wouldn't budge. "She won't be able to breathe," she repeated.

Finally, the dad tore an air hole in the plastic bag the doll was in, appeased the nurse and slowly shut the trunk. Then he walked to the driver's side of the car and never looked back.

Can we all agree that lady was a little crazy? I mean the kids were already buckled in the car. The "doll can't breathe" performance wasn't for them. That's at least a smidge crazy, and I should know because sometimes I think I might be crazy too.

I bumped into that possible reality recently while looking at Twitter.

I created a list of friends, so that in the melee of thousands of tweets a day, I can specifically see what 10-20 people I know are up to via their tweets.

But in the midst of doing that, I've realized something rather pathetic, insecure and crazy of me.

I'm getting really jealous of my friends. As I scroll through their tweets, here are a couple of things that pop into my head:

"Oh wow. That friend hung out with that other friend and they did something amazing together. Huh. Why didn't they invite me?"

"Whoa. That friend just announced, 'I had a great time seeing people I love in Nashville, time to fly back home.' Weird, he didn't even tell me he was going to be in town."

Then I sit in this ridiculous pity party, which eventually mutates into me coveting a life other than my own.

I want those adventures.

I want to be invited to those events.

I want to be as cool or as interesting or as funny or as anything as my friends.

I covet 2.0. And in discussing this with my wife, a few things came to light.

1. When I covet my friends, it's really hard to love my friends.

My friends aren't doing anything wrong. It's me and my insecurities. But by dwelling there, I build up all this residual frustration with my friends, and that gets in the way of my ability to love them. I want to be someone who celebrates his friends, not someone who covets them.

2. This makes me like a seventh grade girl.

My wife doesn't struggle with covet 2.0, but says she understands it because she "used to be a seventh grade girl." In the cafeteria on Monday mornings in middle school, she said it was hard to hear about sleepovers and events you hadn't been invited to. Why was it hard? Because she was a slightly insecure seventh grade girl. Which is apparently much like me.

3. This isn't how it always was.

Ten years ago, you didn't know about all the amazing things your friends were doing. No one called you and 300 other people on the phone and said, "Hey, I just saw an amazing sunset, went on a hot air balloon, got invited to a secret concert and had a brilliant lunch with somebody who won't return your calls. Just wanted to make sure you knew." The phenomenon of tracking the movements of all our friends is new. And the weird thing is that, ten years ago, I swear I never said, "I wish I knew what everyone I know was doing constantly. I could see that being really healthy for me."

4. The Internet is a "Best Life" snapshot.

When you read somebody's tweets or scroll through their photos on Facebook, you're seeing a snapshot of somebody's best life. Sure, some people share raw/honest moments moreso than others, but no one shares everything. (If you share everything and don't hold back something personal for you or your spouse, you eventually become a "performer," not a person.) People share vacations and sunsets and parties. And then you sit in your own very normal, messy life with boringness and ups and downs and think, "My life is no good."

This isn't a Twitter or Facebook issue. I am a huge fan of social media and have personally seen the tremendous good that can come from both. But right now, in my own life, I've turned my Twitter friends list into a place for me to hide and get jealous and covet 2.0.

If you're my friend, sorry about being so silly. Covet 2.0 snuck up on me, and I've spent the last few months acting like I'm in the seventh grade. And since Chess King is closed, Color Me Badd is not on the top of the charts, and I'm not wearing Z-Cavaricci's right now, I know that's not where I'm supposed to be.

Question:

Have you ever experienced covet 2.0?

We're back from Vietnam!

When you start a blog, you never really know where it's going to go or what it's going to do. But last Monday, standing in the mountains of Vietnam, in front of the second kindergarten SCL readers built it was hard to believe what had happened. Here's what I saw and what I want you to see too:

The whole experience was absolutely amazing and my wife and I are very grateful for your prayers. In the next few weeks I'm going to get permission from Samaritan's Purse to share more about the trip. Vietnam is a closed country and I have to be careful about what I can and can't say.

If you missed participating, don't worry, we'll hopefully do more stuff like this in the future. And you can always connect with Samaritan's Purse with their Operation Christmas Child program. It's not too late to build a box this Christmas.

I'll share more soon, especially about one particularly crazy thing I got to see that really threw me upside down.

In the meantime, thank you. Thank you for your generosity. I met two villages that would love to tell you the same!

Jon & Jenny

SCLQ – The Full Circle

About a month ago, I had the chance to speak at Olivet Nazarene University outside of Chicago. It's a beautiful campus, and for the two days I was there, they put me up in the President's guest house.

On my second night, they had me do a Q&A with the students to talk about Quitter and chasing dreams and what to do after graduation. At 5:20, someone knocked on the door to pick me up.

On the way over to the event, my ride introduced himself as the Dean of Students. It was hard to contain my laughter. You see that very day, 17 years ago, I was having a very different experience with a Dean of Students. Two days after Halloween, at Samford University in 1994, the Dean of Students was putting me on a year-long social suspension.

A friend and I had exploded a fire extinguisher under someone's door in our dormitory. Apparently fire extinguisher fumes set off fire alarms, which apparently forces 400 students to be evacuated at 1 a.m. on Halloween night, which apparently makes the Birmingham fire department come with trucks a wailing, which apparently is frowned on in that establishment.

So, in that moment, I had to laugh  at God's sense of humor. At Olivet, 17 years after almost being kicked out of college, I got to tell 2,500 college students that Jesus loves them. At Liberty University, I got to tell 10,000 students that God is crazy about them. To see God bring a mess like me around full circle made me laugh with him at his beautifully unexpected way of connecting all the dots.

I didn't plan it. I couldn't have predicted it. And yet, here it is. Full circle.

Has that ever happened in your life? Have you ever stopped in a moment and realized how far God has brought you down a path you thought you'd never step on?

Have you ever seen his sense of humor at work that way?

Cyber Monday, Hello Somebody!

Someday I will tell my kids that, when I was young, we didn't have "Cyber Monday," the online shopping day after Thanksgiving week. And we didn't have it because we didn't have "cyber."

But you and I have it, and if you're thinking about getting someone a Christmas present today, might I suggest a Hello Somebody watch? Why? I'm glad you asked.

1. They are cool like old school Swatches.

2. They look much more expensive than they actually cost.

3. They help provide educational opportunities for Rwandan street kids.

4. They fit perfectly in stockings.

5. They come in "Quitter red."

OK, I might be the only who thinks that last point is awesome, but the first four points are true.

A few weeks ago, readers of Stuff Christians Like helped 6 kids in Rwanda go to a year-long educational program because we decided to rock Hello Somebody watches. (Our goal was 70 watches and we did over 420!)

And today, you can get 50% off when you buy two watches and enter the discount code "cybermonday." Or if you want the whole Hello Somebody experience they've got a scarf/beanie/mini watch/regular watch bundle for only $50. (My wife brought the scarf with her to Vietnam cause it's massive like a blanket and has approximately 600 different uses.)

Click here to get a Hello Somebody watch today!

(Click here if you want to learn more about the work SCL did with HelloSomebody.)

Dear Atheists, Chick-fil-A & Waiters.

Recently, I made the near fatal mistake of eating at a Cracker Barrel. "Wait Jon, I thought you loved Cracker Barrel?" is what you're probably thinking. Or you're thinking, "How arrogant do you have to be to believe that, with 200 million blogs online, people remember your feelings about country theme-styled restaurants.

Fair enough.

But the restaurant wasn't the mistake. The time we went was.

Sunday afternoon, after church, in the South. (Bowling Green, Kentucky to be precise.)

And as we surveyed the crowd of people crammed tightly into rocking chairs on the porch, I felt a need to write a few letters to a few groups of people. Which is what I now will proceed to do:

Dear Atheists,



I'm sorry. At some point, you've thought to yourself, "I would like some afternoon lunch right now, and I live in the Southeast. Why don't I casually go get some vittles on this beautiful Sunday afternoon, which is not the Sabbath but just a normal day?" That's a fine thought to have. I applaud you're use of the word "vittles." But, when you tried to enjoy a leisurely lunch, you were met with a bajillion church attendees. Cracker Barrel, PF Chang's, Macaroni Grill, suddenly there's a line out the door. Sorry about that. That's us, lots and lots of us. Our bad. Church gets out at around noon. Might I suggest an early morning brunch? Somewhere that specializes in mimosas will help keep the church traffic down.

Dear Waiters,

I hope you'll tell me that Sunday lunch is the best shift of the whole week because the people who come in are such good tippers, but I have my doubts. I have my doubts. Please just tell me you've never been tipped with a tract. I think Jesus himself would have frowned upon that move. He might have even made a whip in the Cracker Barrel parking lot.

Dear Chick-fil-A,

I love that you're closed on Sundays. I support you wholeheartedly. But, dang, you are like some sort of chicken temptress on Sunday afternoons. How come I'm so stupid on Saturdays and don't come see you when you're open? Why do I completely act surprised every time I drive into your parking lot after church only to find you closed? I get so excited at first because the line looks really short, only to be crushed against the harsh rocks of chicken denial.

Dear Massachusetts,

I grew up in your beautiful commonwealth, but you, much like me, have no idea how easy it is to dine on Sunday. Please, for every churchgoer that is waiting an hour for Shoney's in the south, go out to lunch in Boston. Don't take your sweet, sweet non-existent lunch lines for granted .

Dear parties of 30,

Seriously? Your whole Sunday School class had to all come and be seated as one group? How big around is this table that you're expecting Cracker Barrel to have? Treebeard would have to roll that thing out of some special closet. And he'd be furious by the time he got there because it'd be made of wood or as he says, "A fallen brother." Probably kill you when the hostess called your name, if I had to guess. So what I'm trying to say is throw a picnic somewhere for your class, unless you're OK with being murdered by a mythological/ecological tree-man at a restaurant.

I feel better already. But, to tell you the truth, there's more I could write. And I would, but they just now called our name at the Cracker Barrel in Bowling Green. Took two weeks to get in, but pancakes are worth it. Pancakes are always worth it.

Question:

Do you ever go out to eat after church?

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Unless you live outside of the United States. Like in Finland, it's not Thanksgiving there. If that's where you're reading from, then allow me to say, "Happy Thursday!" But, on the plus side, we're less than 6 weeks away from the holiday known as "Epiphany" or as I like to call it in Finnish, Loppiainen.

So, still a pretty awesome Thursday. And don't you get down in the dumps either Australia. Before you know it, it will be time to celebrate the Royal Hobart Regatta.

Don't think I don't know about Australian holidays! I might even get a Royal Hobart Regetta hoodie.

But here in the states, it's Thanksgiving today. Regular SCL will return on Monday, with a satirical vengeance I might add, as if it's been running in waste-deep snow with a log on its back like Stallone in Rocky Four. Drago!

Today, let's keep it super simple with one question to answer in the comments:

What's something you're thankful for this year?

The Ninja Nod-off

(It's guest post week at SCL since my wife and I are in Vietnam!  Today's is from Noah Albrecht and it's illustrated! It's like SCL the graphic novel. Noah is a web designer on the Dave Ramsey Team. Check out his blog or follow him on Twitter.  If you want to write a guest post for SCL,here's how!)

The Ninja Nod-off. By- Noah Albrecht

Okay, raise your hands if you've ever experienced a Sunday morning sermon that didn't quite meet your conscious needs.

We've all been there once or twice.

Let me break down a scenario for you:

You roll into pre-church fellowship, fill your belly with coffee and some obscure pastry that you can't pronounce. Worship starts. After about 3 songs and a 20 minute hands-in-the-air version of "How Great is Our God," you settle into your seat. At this point, the morning announcements and prayer requests start.

Then, it happens. The sermon on the entire Book of Numbers kicks in.

Unbeknownst to you, a prayer for the bold Sumatra roast and not the Folger's decaf should've been in the prayer request mix somewhere. You slowly feel like your eyelids have ten pound weights attached to them. You start breathing heavy, and then…bam…you're out. When I mean out, I mean like Mike Tyson-uppercut-to-the-jaw, not the lower ear, out.

Your spouse, loved one, friend or neighbor gives you the elbow nudge. If it's your spouse, the nudge probably has a bit more body weight behind it. When I say that, I mean like a Shaq-throwing-an-elbow-during-a-rebound-in-game 7-of-the-NBA-playoffs type of body weight nudge. (Did I really just have 12 hyphens in a single sentence?)

You wake up with half the church glaring at you as if you left your iPhone's "Lady Gaga" ringtone on high. Even if that was the case, they wouldn't have even  heard the ringtone (or the sermon for that matter) because you were slumbering tenderly like that adorable lamb they use in church logos.

Okay, sometimes we can't help this. But if it does happen again, how can we prevent it the next time?

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you "The Ninja Nod-off":

 

The key to this entire approach is holding your Bible. If you do fall asleep, you'll drop it and that will wake you back up immediately, like a theological alarm system. And nobody judges the guy who drops his Bible. He was getting so deep into the word that the Bible accidentally fell out of his hands. You'll look holy and wake back up all at the same time. Win-win.

Know this: I don't subscribe to falling asleep during church sermons. But, if it does happen, I hope this handy-dandy diagram comes in handy. You're welcome.

So, anyone out there guilty of being a sermon sleeper? Fess up, you're amongst friends.

 

(Check out Noah's blog or follow him on Twitter for more great stuff!)

Suspecting you attend a Hipster Church: A Quiz

(It's guest post week at SCL since my wife and I are in Vietnam!  Today's guest post is from Tamara Lunardo.  Tamara is the editor of the upcoming book What a Woman is Worth (now accepting submissions) and a blogger at Tamara Out Loud and A Deeper Story. She's pretty sure she is not a hipster, but that shouldn't stop you from following her on Facebook or Twitter.  If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here's how!)

Suspecting You Attend a Hipster Church: A Quiz. By- Tamara Out Loud

With the recent rise in popularity of several pastors sporting dark-rimmed glasses and an elusive air of cool, Christians everywhere are asking themselves the weighty doctrinal question, Do I attend a hipster church? Here to offer discernment, a quiz:

1. When asked where you attend church, you respond a) "Normal Church Name" b) "Rented Nightclub Name" c) "It's an obscure location– you've probably never heard of it."

2. Your church's parking lot is full of: a) SUVs b) Volkswagens c) fixed-gear bikes.

3. Your congregation is dressed: a) in their Sunday best with sensible shoes b) in jeans and t-shirts with Converse c) in skinny jeans and American Apparel t-shirts with TOMS.

4. Your worship team sings: a) John B. Dykes' "Holy Holy Holy" b) Sufjan Stevens' "Holy Holy Holy"  c) Sufjan Stevens' "John Wayne Gacy, Jr."

5. Your pastor's sermons include references to: a) George MacDonald b) George Lucas c) George Bernard Shaw.

6. Your church service: a) has always included a traditional liturgy b) has never included a traditional liturgy c) included a traditional liturgy before it was cool.

7. Your children's ministry is full of: a) no-testament Aidens and Mackenzies b) New Testament Matthews and Annas c) Old Testament Ezekiels and Havilahs.

8. Your young adult group meets at a) Dunkin' Donuts b) Starbucks c) a locally-owned coffee shop serving fair trade coffee from a Chemex pot.

9. Your church dinners involve: a) spaghetti and meatballs b) spaghetti and meatballs and spaghetti without meatballs c) organic spaghetti and vegan "meat" balls.

10. You read your pastor's: a) newsletter b) Facebook updates c) tweets.

Bonus Question: What did you think of this quiz? a) You thought it was trying too hard to be relevant at the expense of sound theology b) You thought it was cool c) You were into it, but now you're over it.

Mostly A's: You attend a traditional church and don't know what a hipster is.

Mostly B's: You attend a hip church and think you know what a hipster is.

Mostly C's: You attend a hipster church and deny that you're what a hipster is.

How did your church score?

(For more great stuff from Tamara, make sure you check out her blog.)