Jon Acuff's Blog, page 132

Sword drills 2.0

(It's guest post Friday! Here's one from Some Guy, an engineer from Michigan. If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here's how.)

Sword drills 2.0 – By Some Guy

"Hold on while my Bible loads."

That's what someone said the other week in Sunday School when she was asked to read a verse. That's where we are these days with all these gadgets.

Back when I was in grade school, we ran sword drills (or Bible drills for those of you who are less hardcore) the old-fashioned way–we had to turn the pages of our printed Bibles.

I had a hardcover Bible for a while in grade school. You do not want that. That cover slows down the flippability way too much. I thought about handicapping the kids who always won the sword drills by making them use the Bibles with the hard covers.

But then came a new problem–tabs.

Kids started using Bibles with all the books marked on the sides. No more guessing where Jeremiah is. Just look and go.

Cheaters.

Now we have Bible apps. Just type in the reference, and it pops right up. It does the searching for you. You don't even need to know if Joel is in the Old Testament or New Testament. You don't need to know the difference between Jude and Job.

What's the point of competing against that?

Do not worry–those iPod/iPad people have an Achilles heel. They can still be defeated. I'll let you in on my secret, as long as you promise not to use it against me.

Hook up the voice-recognition app to the Bible software.

When everybody else is holding up their Bibles, you hold up your smartphone and start the voice recognition. As the leader says the reference, your app is already finding that verse. Then all you have to do is stand up and start reading whatever's on the screen.

I think that's about as fast as you can make it, although you can make it a little more lazy. Just have the text-to-speech app read the verse aloud for you.

Maybe that's why no one does sword drills anymore.

Did you ever do those when you were growing up?

(For more great stuff from Some Guy, check out his blog: someblogsite.com)

Coming to grips with the fact that you'll never say "Habakkuk" correctly.

I know it's probably not going to happen.

I know that at this point in my life, the chances are pretty slim. I dreamed about it so often as a seventh grader that I thought there might be a chance though. I thought maybe when I was older it would be easier, you know? Every guy wants to. You see it on TV and it looks so simple when your heroes do it but then you try it in real life and it's next to impossible. I'm starting to think that it will never happen.

I'll never dunk a basketball on a regulation ten-foot rim.

Sure, I wish I was a little bit taller. I wish I was a baller. But it's just not happening. I can't even touch the rim like I used to. I can just barely get the net and that's not impressing anybody. I look like a less athletic version of Woody Harrelson in "White Men Can't Jump." Sure, I can dunk on an 8-foot hoop. If no one is covering me. And I don't have to dribble first. But the 10-foot hoop? It's forever out of reach.

As is the correct pronunciation of the Bible chapter "Habakkuk."

Have ever said that word correctly? What was it like? Do you remember where you were? I would. That'd be a "dear diary" moment and probably make me feel as happy as Kristy from the Babysitter Club book series. (I have daughters. Quit judging me.)

Every time I hear someone say it casually I get a little jealous. A pastor named Matt Chandler did a whole sermon series on Habakkuk and it was like experiencing Michael Jordan dunk. Effortless.

I only listened to the podcast and didn't see the sermon, but I have to imagine he was even saying it behind his back and spinning through the air without breaking a sweat. He could probably dunk on Patrick Ewing while saying "Habakkuk" at the same time.

My problem is that I always forget how many k's that word has in it. Sometimes when it marches out of my mouth it comes out with like 14 k's. I just start saying, "kkkkkkk" and don't know where to end it. And then, if I get the first part of the word right, I freak out and can't remember if the last k is silent.

Is it? Do you know? Does it come to a hard stop sign k or do you drop the last one and just say "Habbakaaaaaaaaa" allowing that last syllable to dance off into the cool of the day like an antelope?

Someday, maybe in my 50s, I'll be able to do it. Maybe even in a sermon. If that happens, I'll probably just stop my message, fall to my knees and break down in tears right there next to the pulpit. No one will know what is going on, but you will. If you're in the audience, you'll turn to someone next to you and quietly say, "He just dunked. He finally dunked." And we'll all share that special moment.

Question:

Have you ever said Habakkuk correctly?

When God goes quiet.

I don't want to color my hair.

My dad is gray or white or whatever word you use to describe your hair color when it lacks color. He's not a little gray, he's super gray. In fact, a few weeks ago at Lowe's, someone turned to him and said, "Anderson Cooper!" That's just how the Acuffs get down.

And lately I've run into a few friends who haven't seen me in a while and they've all said the same two things:

You are really handsome.
Whoa gray hair.

I can't help the first one, it's both a gift and a responsibility, but the second one is in my court. I could go the "Just for Men" route. I could return to "Chestnut Brown" or "Rich Mahogany." I don't know if those are real shades but they should be. But I'm cool with it. Gray hair on a guy looks wise.

And I'm 35 now. It's not like I'm 8 with hair that's going grey because I'm that kid from the movie Powder and have the ability to heal deer. I'm in the middle of my quarter life moment. (I'm aiming for 140 years.) One thing I've learned as I've gained more gray hair and a few more years and a considerable amount of v-neck t-shirts is that God loves to whisper.

I used to only hear him in the lightning bolt moments. I wanted the emotional high of a church retreat. I wanted a big neon God that thundered across the sky with his might to let me know he was there. And if I didn't have that kind of moment all the time, if I had a big moment on a mission trip and then came back to quiet moments in the real world, I felt like maybe God had disappeared.

That's not to say that he doesn't blow up life in big and loud ways. But in my heart, unless that was how he was rolling, I didn't think he was around.

Lately though, he keeps whispering. In weird, unexpected, creative ways. And for the first time in my life I feel like the whispers are getting through.

My life is pretty loud right now. I bet yours is too. You've got an iPhone that won't stop humming. A college term paper or a project at work that needs your attention. Family obligations. Soccer practice for your kids. Gymnastics for your daughter. A blog to update. A Twitter feed. A job with a boss who throws things on your desk like those bosses from movies in the 1980s and actually says, "I need this by 8AM tomorrow Johnson!" Even if your name isn't Johnson. You've got to run errands and pick up prescriptions and return phone calls to friends and close out the summer at the neighborhood pool before it shuts down for another 6 months.

You're busy. And I'm busy and often that means we're loud. So what do you do when you need to get someone's attention in a loud environment? You get louder. You raise your voice over the room and "out loud" everyone until you get the attention of whomever you're talking to. But not God.

Sometimes when life is loudest, he gets really quiet.

And we think he's gone. That's he's left our side. He's moved on. He's far away. But often, he's just whispering. He's saying loud things quietly. He's whispering above the fray.

That's what he did to Elijah. First there was a powerful wind. And God wasn't in it. Then an earthquake. And God wasn't in it. Then a fire. And God wasn't in it. At last we're told in 1 Kings 19:12, "there came a gentle whisper." And that's where God was. He brought thunder and lightning and power and might and then pulled the rug from under his prophet and said, "I'm the whisper."

That's what it felt like he did to me the other night too.

It was date night at Acuff house. I usually take my daughters out individually but with my wife gone for the night, I took them both out to dinner. The place we wanted to go was closed and we ended up in an Irish Pub in downtown Franklin, TN. It's not really a pub, but that last sentence felt more dramatic saying it that way. It's more of a small Irish restaurant/pub. See, the slash nearly killed the drama I was carefully building.

The conversation that night with my 5-year-old McRae and my 7 year old L.E. was incredible and I'll be writing about it more down the road. But in the middle of the meal, L.E. said something really unexpected. Here's what she said:

Christ be with me,

Christ within me,

Christ behind me,

Christ before me,

Christ beside me,

Christ to win me,

Christ to comfort and restore me.

At first I thought, "I've done an awesome job raising holy kids." But then I realized around the small restaurant, where crown molding would have gone, was written a prayer by St. Patrick. I asked L.E. if she knew what it meant and she looked at me without missing a beat and said, "Christ is everywhere."

The night moved on and I didn't think about that moment until I was on a plane the next day headed to Daytona Beach to speak at BigStuf Camps. Life is loud right now, in some really great ways. The Quitter Conference is this Saturday and that has been one of the hardest things I've ever written. I get to go to Dallas and speak at the Echo Conference on Wednesday. I'm getting to do some fun things that are so far beyond my ability that it's comical. But sitting on that plane, I felt like God reminded me of what it's like for a seven year old to whisper a prayer we all need to hear. To say a prayer over our family, over every one sitting at that restaurant, maybe everyone in Franklin. To be reminded in a small, wisp of a moment of time, that he's everywhere.

He's got this.

He's not gone.

He's whispering.

And he loves me and you enough to remind us of that over and over again, if we'll only listen.

Question:

Does God feel loud in your life, or quiet?

Realizing you're the person who sits in the same place each Sunday.

How did this happen?

How did life end up like this?

I mean, I was never a "pew gypsy," one of those church attendees who can float about the sanctuary sitting in a different section every week. I never bounced from balcony to front row and back again with never a care in the world, but it was never this bad.

I never had to sit in the same exact seat, week after week after week. I never secretly harbored "aisle envy," if some visitors dared sit in our seats one week. I never asked people to "scoot to the middle" in a specific row even though the rest of the sanctuary had plenty of seats. That's the church equivalent of sitting right in front of someone in an empty movie theater.

I was an "at peace with whatever seat I got" kind of dad. I'd never drag my kids through the halls as fast as I could toward Sunday School, making sure their little feet didn't slow me down on my way to my rightful spot at church. Sure, it takes approximately 48% longer to get them ready on Sunday mornings, but I assume that's the devil and plan ahead. If I have to sit a few rows away from my normal spot, no big deal.

But last Sunday, something crazy happened in church – my wife kept walking when we got into the sanctuary. She blew right by our regular sitting area. I immediately said, "Where are you going?" Her response? "I hate where we normally sit." What? Where was this coming from? You think you know someone. What had come over my bride? We'd been attending Cross Point for a year and she never mentioned it. We'll probably need to "unpack" that with a counselor.

She kept going, further down the main aisle, getting closer and closer to the stage. Then she did the unthinkable and took a sharp right turn! Let me be clear about something, we're not right side people, we're middle row people. We look directly at the stage, from the middle, dead on, the way God intended it. I'm pretty sure that's in the Old Testament somewhere.

But instead, we sat on the third row, far right. I turned back and looked wistfully at where I spent the last year sitting. Farewell old friend. I'm now apparently the kind of person that looks at the side of the pastor. From an angle. Off in the shadows. As if you can really even call that seat "church."

And then it hit me. I'm the person who has to sit in the same place at church each Sunday.

How about you? Are you a pew gypsy or do you find a seat and then hold it down each week til death do you part?

Not messing around when it comes to fill in the blank sermon notes.

Last week, I committed an unpardonable sin while speaking at Cross Point.

I didn't mean to. I mean that's my home church. As a speaker, the last thing I want to do is mess up during one of the 5 services I spoke at that day. If that happens out on the road, I can hang my head in shame and retreat back to Nashville, resting in the knowledge that I probably won't see those folks again.

But when it's your own church and you mess up during a sermon, those poor people have to make eye contact with you the next Sunday and the Sunday after that.

What did I do from stage that was so erroneous?

I forget to give the answer to one of my fill in the blanks during my sermon.

There were three in the sermon, one for each main point. And I hit the first two, just fine. I said the right sentence, revealed what was supposed to go in the blank and saw the congregation collectively scribble. But in the third service, I forgot to say the third sentence. I shared the point. I told the story. I just didn't say the answer to the fill in the blank.

I realized this during my closing prayer. In the midst of praying, I actually gave the answer to the fill in the blank. I'm pretty sure that's going to earn me a straight shot to hades. Who puts a fill in the blank in a prayer? Me.

As soon as service was over, I went to the lobby to sign some books and shake some hands and kiss some babies. Within 30 seconds, an elderly woman pulled me aside, put her bulletin on the table in front of me, showed me her empty blanks, and said, "Why do you hate Jesus so much?"

Those weren't her exact words, in fact I might have exaggerated that a little bit. She was actually quite nice and said, "I think I might have missed your last fill in the blank." We both knew she hadn't. I had, and I immediately said, "Not at all. In my excitement, I skipped right by it." I didn't ask her if she had heard it in my closing prayer, like an Easter Egg hidden in a movie. I didn't ask her if she opened her eyes during the closing the prayer, grabbed her bulletin and filled out the last line.

I didn't have to, because she handed me the bulletin and had me fill it out for her. It was only right.

And no sooner had she left than a married couple approached me with an iPad. They had created their own version of the bulletin sermon notes. By forgetting to mention that line, I had created digital disappointment. I apologized and helped them fill out the sermon notes and then hit that point 19 times in the next service.

You better believe I remembered that fill in the blanks section next service. I wore out that point! I was all over that point like Rebecca Black on the word "Friday."

And I had to be, because although both of those people were incredibly gracious to me, if there's one things we Christians don't mess around with, it's the fill in the blanks.

Question:

Do you fill in the blanks during a sermon?

A new fix for one of the hardest parts of working at a church.

My dad is a pastor and growing up I often watched him try to perform magic with the ridiculously small budget he had to work with.

I know it's weird to say "pastor" and "magic" in the same sentence but if you've ever worked or volunteered at a church, you know that's what you have to do sometimes when it comes to funds.

You get a budget for your ministry, usually around a nickel, look at the people in your community you're trying to reach, usually around a bajillion, and then you go to work. And you hope and pray that the small amount of budget you have will reach the big amount of people you have a heart for.

That dynamic is why I was excited when I heard about Only 144. Now normally, if someone says the phrase "it's a Christian version of ______" I throw a smoke bomb and exit the conversation during the confusion. We don't need a Christian Google. I promise. But what I liked about Only 144 was that it's not just a Christian version of Groupon. Their heart is for churches and ministers and volunteers. People like my dad, people like you maybe who have far too little budget to reach far too many people.

So they put together ridiculous deals on real resources and then offer them online for 144 hours. It's that simple. As an example, on August 12 they'll be offering a huge Children's Ministry Resource Bundle with $1,070 worth of resources for $97. (You can signup to find out about when the next deal is.)

And today, because they're sponsoring SCL, I get to give away $600 of small group materials to one reader. The materials are from Matt Chandler, Mark Driscoll and Tommy Nelson.

Want to enter? Here's how:

1. Leave a comment on this post with an answer to the question, "Have you ever worked at a church?"

2. Twitter a link to this post with this link: http://bit.ly/qdHepC . If you don't have a Twitter account, you can use Facebook. You can write your own or use this example. "Win small group materials from Matt Chandler, Mark Driscoll & Tommy Nelson on @jonacuff's blog http://bit.ly/qdHepC "

3. On Saturday July 30, we will pick 1 winner. We'll announce them the following week and you can email your address if you're the winner.

That's it. Dad, friends who work at churches, people who volunteer, check out only144.com!

Confessing Secrets

(John Crist is a longtime guest contributor to SCL. His guest post last week was hilarious! Today he's teamed up with his college/20-somethings pastor Aaron Stern to write about secrets. Stern just released a new book called What's Your Secret?: freedom through confession available on Amazon. Enjoy!)

Confessing Secrets by John Crist

I'm in an accountability group with seven guys from church and our college/20-somethings pastor, Aaron Stern. Every week we go around the circle with the obligatory "what terrible decisions did you make this week?" and usually, someone's got a secret to tell. But there's an art to confession. It's the exact opposite of eating a Reese's Cup, there are plenty of wrong ways to do it.

Stern's book will teach you how to do it the right way. Here's the wrong way, accompanied by my typical response.

The TMI Guy:

Confession: I met this tall, brown haired girl with blue shorts and grey Nike's at the 5:30 spin class at Gold's Gym last Thursday. We talked about her ex-boyfriend Dan and how he cheated on her at a Motel 6 with her roommate Michelle… and then we made out in my Honda Civic in the parking lot of the Sonic on Academy Blvd for seven hours.

Response: A simple 'I made out with a girl' would have been just fine. Now I can never enjoy a Sonic Blast again, awesome.

The Rationalizer Guy:

Confession: My car has a dead battery and it keeps stalling out which stresses me out so I've been drinking a lot recently. But I was encouraged this week because I met someone that was a real alcoholic and at least I'm not as bad as that guy.

Response: Use AAA to jump your car, and then head straight to AA.

The 'Confessing-Sins-of-Another-Person' Guy:

Confession: I was out at a restaurant and I saw Kyle (sitting to his right) drinking. It was just tough to be in that environment after seeing Chris (sitting to his left) at a party last week smoking pot. I'm just struggling to find the balance between being in the world, but not of it you know?

Response: Your house might be burnt down by the time you get home, just sayin…

The Vague-ish Guy:

Confession: I've been 'struggling' with some 'issues' lately and I've been experiencing some 'temptations' that are turning into 'trials' that could lead to 'stumbling blocks' in my life.

Response: None. (Googling 'stumbling blocks'…)

The 'Wait,-Is-This-Wrong?' Guy:

Confession: So, I started this little accounting project at work where I round every transaction to the lowest cent and then I set up a personal bank account where I've been accumulating money for several months. Should I invest that in stocks or mutual funds?

Response: …Um, yeah…we're gonna need you to come in on Saturday… (reference anyone?)

The 'Confessing-Things-That-Aren't-Sins' Guy:

Confession: The last couple weeks have been tough. I've been volunteering at church every night and I don't have any money anymore because I gave it all away to a homeless guy I met on the street last week after volunteering as a fire fighter after staying up late reading the Bible too much because I couldn't sleep because I was out all night rescuing stray cats.

Response: I quit this group.

Have you ever experience an awkward confession?

What about you, ever struggled to find the best way to confess something?

John Crist as a writer and standup comedian whose life has been changed by confession. Check out his story in chapter 7 of Aaron Stern's book What's Your Secret?: freedom through confession available on Amazon and for more from John, visit his Youtube Channel.

Don't miss Ben Arment at the Quitter Conference!

Who is Ben Arment?

The short answer? A genius.

The long answer? He's the founder of the wildly successful "Story" conference and the creator of Dream Year. In Dream Year he coaches a select group of people for the entire year as they work on the tactics, strategies and real world plans that turn their "what if" dream into a "what is" reality.

And he's joining us at the Quitter Conference. He speaks around the country, is one of the smartest people I've ever met and is going to blow you away with both his kindness and his insights.

If you haven't signed up for the Quitter Conference on July 30th, in Nashville, TN, there are still a few spots left. Click here to reserve your spot!

And if you want to check out Ben, here's something he wrote the other day that I think is brilliant. "140 Character Friendships."

Laughing when you're not supposed to in church.

Want to know a secret?

Want to know what people say when they don't think what you've just said is funny?

I've discovered this by saying approximately 1 bajillion unfunny things in the last 35 years. This is not a theory, this is a time tested, bad joke proven law of conversation that most people follow without even knowing it. Here it is, if you say something unfunny to someone, if you tell a story that is funnier in your head than it is coming out of your mouth, this is what the person you are talking to will say:

"That's funny."

That's it. It's so simple, but it's perfect. Because if what you just said were actually funny, they wouldn't need to say "that's funny." They'd just laugh. They'd burst out in that wonderful, uncontrolled, God given thing called laughter. That physical reaction to humor and hope and life that we often take for granted, but is in fact pretty wonderful. And when your joke or story bombs, they don't laugh. Instead they say, "That's funny."

I think about silly things like that a lot because I love laughter. Especially in church. I've long said that laughter is a gift from God and when we take it for granted it makes him want to take it back, like the unicorns. But recently, in the middle of speaking at church I experienced something I completely forget about:

Church Giggles.

You've never had those. Certainly not. You're holier than that. But sometimes, in the middle of a service, a wave of unexplained, unstoppable laughter will overtake you. And that's exactly what happened to a couple of people while I was speaking. I was in the middle of a serious point. I was talking about orphans and homelessness or something of that ilk, and when I looked out in the crowd, a couple on the third row was busting out laughing.

They were dying in their seats. I immediately started wracking my brain to think if I had said something weird. "Did I say, 'booty, booty, booty' instead of 'booty, God, booty?' Did I say something accidentally inappropriate like that time on Way FM where Wally cut to commercial right after I said it, so it just hung out in the air and we all laughed at my silliness?"

I couldn't figure it out and so I kept looking at them. Suddenly, they were the only people I could see in the whole building and they were out of control with laughter. I could not stop looking at them. And I forgive them, because once you get the Church Giggles it's hard to stop. Here's what usually happens:

1. You either think of something random and funny, like a postcard from an unexpected corner of your brain or the pastor says something unintentionally funny.

2. You start to hear that sentence over and over again in your head. The soundtrack gets stuck on loop. It bubbles up from your toes into your stomach refusing to stop.

3. You immediately try to think about something serious. Like Jesus and foot washing or Moses. That guy had a serious beard. Think about Moses. For the love of Moses' beard, stop laughing. Come on pull yourself together!

4. And then you win, for about 30 seconds. You stop thinking about it. You move on, but less than a minute later the joke comes back. Like a raptor throwing itself against the fence in Jurassic Park testing for a weakness, it was just laying low so that it could attack you with giggles from a different angle.

5. "Why isn't anyone else laughing? This is hilarious." That's what you'll think next. "Why is no one else dying right now in laughter?" Church Giggles always try to isolate you.

6. "Oh no, the person sitting next to me is giggling. There is strength in numbers and together we are forming an army of LOL." The moment you spot a comrade in guffaw you've lost all hope for a recovery. They've just validated your laughter. You should be laughing!

7. It's all over. You give up and just ride it out, hoping that maybe the pastor or speaker won't notice you laughing in the middle of his message about hoboes.

But we do. We notice. I see you Church Giggles. I've got my eye on you. And all I can do in response is "put you on post." It's like "putting someone on blast," but a lot less cooler of a phrase. You'll be on stuffchristianslike.net before the day is out. That's a promise.

Question:

Have you ever experienced the Church Giggles? How did it happen?

12 posts I wrote about being a dad

A few months ago, I had the chance to write a "dad blog" series of posts. I've never done that before, but with two little girls dominating the Acuff house, parenting is a topic I keep coming back to. My friends at E-Mealz gave me some space to explore 12 ideas about being a dad. In case you missed it, here are the links to the posts I wrote.

1. Dinner, unplugged

2. Better dinners through bigger stories

3. You can't hate what you've never tried

4. Dinner is a bucket

5. The truth about stale cake

6. The thing about knives

7. Dinner is a catapult

8. The rewind button

9. Later is a land of make believe

10. What's your story?

11. The warning

12. The problem with perfect