Jon Acuff's Blog, page 154

Talking trash about your Bible reading skillz.

I'm 25 for 25!

What's that mean?

Simple, every day for the last 25 days, I've read the piece of the Bible I need to in order to complete my read through the Bible in one year plan.

If you're not great at math, allow me to crunch those numbers for you.

I'm batting 1,000%.

If I played baseball, they'd be testing me for performance enhancing drugs right now.

If I was a cyclist, I'd be winning the Tour De France. By running up the mountains. With the bike strapped to my back.

If I was a business man, I'd be wearing jeans and a black mock turtle neck telling you how my new product with a lower case i just changed the world. Again.

I'm pretty much unstoppable when it comes to reading through the Bible in a year. But I have bumped into a serious dilemma. Is it a sin to talk trash about Bible reading? Can we get some sort of official ruling on that?

I'm running into that situation because I'm reading through the Bible with a group of guys in an online community. I'm tempted to talk trash and have three different scenarios I need to run by you:

1. Is it bad to comment, "First!" on a Bible reading plan?

The plan is set up so that every day, a new blog post tells us what to read. Then we all comment on the post, indicating we've read it that day. There's only a handful of guys reading it, but I'm still a little tempted to post, "First!" that declaration of victory folks often post when they leave the first comment on a post before anyone else.

2. Is it bad to size up your competition in a Bible reading plan?

Within the first week, my friend Dino emerged as my number one threat to Bible reading dominance. He's always beating me to the first comment or "parable pole position" if you will. I saw him in our office the other day and told him that despite his "gold medal" status it was a long season. We're running a marathon, not a sprint Dino. Don't exhaust yourself in Genesis. That book is a cakewalk compared to Leviticus.

3. Is it bad to just comment, "All I Do is Win?"

I try to write out thoughtful, honest reactions to the passages we are reading. But sometimes, particularly if I've beaten Dino to the first comment like I did this very morning or successfully made my way out of the "Job negative friend-o-rama" I am tempted at 7:15AM to proclaim, "All I Do is Win!"

The answer to all of those questions is probably "Yes, yes Jon Acuff, it is bad." The Bible is about changing your heart, not competition. I agree, but to be honest, it's been really encouraging and challenging to know that other guys are out there reading along with me and will hold me accountable to the commitment I made.

Even if they're jealous of my 25 for 25 record! Haters gonna hate!

Have you ever bragged about your Bible reading skills?

Have you ever known someone who did?

Creating your own "Love Languages."

The book "The 5 Love Languages," is probably one of the best selling marriage books of all time. By Christian Law, you can't go through pre-marital counseling without reading this book. In it, Gary Chapman writes that we all express and receive love in one of five ways, "Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Receiving Gifts, Acts of Service, and Physical Touch." For example, I like to receive words of affirmation. My wife likes to receive acts of service. I like when she tells me I'm awesome. She likes when I mop the kitchen floor. This one insight took us approximately 3 years of marriage to figure out.

Love Languages is a great book, but recently I realized I was doing my own remix of it. My wife and I have started to add our own love languages to Chapman's list. In fact I've come up with 5 new ones. And I promise you'll never guess the first one…

"Playing New Super Mario Brothers Wii"

Our kids got a Wii for Christmas. When they go to bed, my wife, who grew up playing Super Mario Brothers and old school Excite Bike, loves to play the Wii. I enjoy it, but it's not my favorite thing to do. Two nights ago, while playing it with Jenny, I wanted to do something else. I was bored of it, but I thought to myself, "Playing Wii is one of the ways Jenny receives love. This is one of her love languages. You're such a great husband." (My inner dialogue only has two speeds, incredible flattery and incredible criticism.)

Stumbling upon this insight, I decided to list out four other love languages I thought were true of my life:

1. Frisbee

This love language goes both ways for me. I love to both give and receive the frisbee. Frisbee golf, ultimate frisbee, just throwing it on the beach. Playing frisbee is clearly one of my love languages and since it's also God's favorite sport I feel pretty good about that.

2. Cadbury Crème Eggs

This is a love language I only like to receive. That is, if you give me a box of three, I probably will not give any of them to anyone else. I don't give out Cadbury Crème Eggs. Since I don't live in England where they have access to them all year and brag about it to me on Twitter, I can't be wasting this love language on random strangers. This is a limited resource.

3. Sarcasm

Is this a spiritual gift or a love language? Probably both. And before you get all judgy mcjudgerton and try to Jesus Juke me, God knew how to lovingly wield sarcasm. In Job 38, he asks Job, "What is the way to the abode of light? And where does darkness reside? Can you take them to their places? Do you know the paths to their dwellings? Surely you know, for you were already born! You have lived so many years!"

When I read that last verse, I feel like God probably wanted to drag out the o and say, 'sooooooooo many years!" But regardless, kind sarcasm is a love language I like to express and receive. The other night when I told my wife I had a great meeting with the web team at Dave Ramsey she said, "Did you tell them you're dumb at technology?" I instantly started laughing, because that is exactly what I had done in the meeting. Although I've learned a lot about social media in the last four years, I am dumb at backend technology. And I loved joking about that sarcastically with my wife.

4. Breakdancing

In the third grade I took a breakdancing class at Doyon Elementary School in Ipswich, Massachusetts. Why in the world was an elementary school in a New England beach town offering pop n' lock lessons? I have no idea. You don't question the gifts you're given, but I'm pretty sure breakin' became a love language for me that year. It's been an electric boogaloo kind of life ever since.

It's entirely possible that I'm the only one that has created my own love languages. (Gary Chapman, feel free to use those five in an updated version of your book.)

But maybe you've done that too. Have you read The 5 Love Languages?

Have you ever created your own? What would you add to the list?

What music makes you feel creative?

Being creative isn't always easy. There are certainly the fireworks moments where you are overwhelmed by an idea and hold on to the handle of a bottle rocket that shoots you into whatever it is your "thing" is. But most times, being creative is a willingness to sit down, push through your doubt and fears, and apply sweat and hard work to creating something. One of the things that helps me in times like that is music.

I'm in the middle of writing a book right now. And as I do, I find myself consistently returning to four bands/people/albums for musical inspiration:

1. Explosions in the Sky

I've written about these guys before. They create big, wide open, haunting yet strangely hopeful music. Sometimes I can't listen to songs with lyrics while I'm writing or the words of the song bump into the words in my head and get all tangled up. Here's one of their songs that I really like.

2. John Williams' Harry Potter Soundtracks

I love John Williams. He did the score from Star Wars, ET and a million other movies. I have a few of the Harry Potter albums he did and find it easy to get into a creative space when he Williams does his thing. (Especially the score from the first movie.)

3. Glory Revealed

This is a great album. Glory Revealed essentially a random collection of different musicians singing Bible passages. In moments of creative discouragement, it's encouraging to return to music that reminds me of who the creator of all creativity is. (Check out the Zephaniah 3:17 song, that one is perfect.)

4. Bob Schneider "40 Dogs."

Schneider is someone I've written about before and was actually the subject of a Serious Wednesday post once. His song "40 Dogs" is one of the happiest songs I've ever heard. The rhythm, the lyrics, the joy expressed in it, I love it. As he sings to a girl, at one point he says, "You're the color of the colored part of the Wizard of Oz movie." Great line. Here's a video of the song. I didn't pick the official one because it started with an ad.

What music inspires you?

What music makes you feel creative?

Jell-O, the Potluck Staple

A long, long time ago, Don McLean owns that collection of words. You can't use them without thinking of the song "American Pie." But perhaps that is fitting because a long, long time ago I wrote a love letter to the crock pot, that rotund bellied deliverer of deliciousness. But a reader named Maria Walters told me I was missing a very important element of the church potluck, the jello dish. She researched the worst types of jello dishes (olives and velveeta?) and then wrote a song of sorts. Here is her very funny, very musical guest post. (Read it to the tune of "Twas the Night Before Christmas.") Enjoy!

Ode to Jello, the Potluck Staple

"A potluck," the church bulletin said,

And ambitious plans began to run through my head.

I could make something exotic, some salads or soups,

But something unfamiliar was destined for sympathy scoops

Paralyzed by ideas, and ingredients for none

The potluck came with no planning done.

I opened my pantry to see what we've got

JELL-O stared back. I was saved… so I thought.

As I walked in that night with my platter of yellow,

I asked where to put it and was told: by the JELL-O

And, yes, there they were, Jigglers like mine

But all with such perfect molds and designs

And wait, that's not all, as I scanned to the right.

Giant glass bowls full of JELL-O filled up my sight

But just JELL-O? No. Not plain JELL-O at all:

covered with marshmallows, layered, or piled tall.

And what were those shapes inside? Were they nuts?

Canned fruit, berries, raisins, carrots?

Milk, yogurt, and applesauce caught my eye

And whipped cream peaks that reached to the sky.

But beside the parfaits… is that cottage cheese?

In JELL-O? And popcorn? Don't tell me, oh please!

This one is made with Velveeta, that one with greens,

Cucumbers and celery – nightmares replaced my JELL-O dreams!

Olives? Really? And pretzels? And cola?

All mixed together in a "delightful" ambrosia.

Now my plate is full of gelatinous goo,

Which leads to the question: if I taste it, would you?

Be honest, have you ever thrown together Jell-o at the last minute before a dinner party or potluck? If not, what's your go to "pretend you didn't forget to plan ahead" dish?

(For more great stuff from Maria, check out her blog.)

#4 in 2010: Having 2 Gods

(This is the first Serious Wednesday post on the top 10 list. It's about my daughters and me realizing I sometimes have two Gods.)

Having 2 Gods

I am a wuss.

When I was growing up, we watched the movie Jaws. I imagined that the floor was an ocean and that if my feet touched it, that massive shark would bite them. Twenty five years later I still refuse to have my feet on the floor during scary moments. In movie theaters, at home, at friends' houses, I will yank my feet up if a movie grows dark and an "oboe of terror" starts to mournfully play.

I am a wuss, but sometimes this world is legitimately scary.

The Department of Justice recently did a study that showed that 1 out of every 4 girls will be raped before graduating college.

Every day, kids plant landmines online that will not explode until they are older and realize a photo can never, ever be deleted from the Internet.

The only fictional part of movies like "Man on Fire," and "Taken," is the idea that someone is coming to rescue the kidnapped and sex slaved children around the world.

We are hurt and continuing to hurt each other.

And into that world, I am sending my two daughters.

That scares me sometimes. I'm trying to send my two daughters out into the world so full of love that when culture tries to spill them, they will not empty. When faced with temptations or trials or hurts, they will be so sure of who they are, in both our family and our God, that they will not be full of doubt. That they will know that whatever they do, whoever they grow into, the love I gave them as children is the love I will give them as adults.

My fear is that they will think I am two dads, in the same way lots of Christians think there are two gods. (That almost sounded like a reference to the show, "My 2 Dads," but I assure you it was not. Worst show concept. "We were both sleeping with your mom and don't know which one of us is your father. I'm wacky, he's straight laced!")

What do I mean by two gods?

Simply this: Sometimes, we live our lives as if there is a Pre Crucifixion God and an After Crucifixion God.

If you're a Christian, at some point in your life you've been bowled over by the graciousness and wildly unkempt love God had for you Pre Crucifixion. He so greatly desired your presence and your closeness that he sent his only son to the cross to draw your near. Over a period of generations he unfolded a plan that sent his son to the cross and you to his arms. His love was so deep and true that he forsake his own son to open the door to you. There is no greater love.

We are overwhelmed by Pre Crucifixion God. He is amazing and as one author put it, almost wasteful in his love for us he pours it out so generously and lavishly.

And then we start to live life.

Then the weeks and months start to stack up between us and that moment when we first encountered Pre-Crucifixion God. We get some distance between us and that unleashed, unbridled love. And we make some mistakes. We fail. We fall down. And that is when we meet After Crucifixion God.

That is when we find ourselves hiding in the shadows. Like Adam and Eve accepting an apple when they were already given the whole orchard, we choose the small and insignificant and we blow it. In that moment, what do we do?

Do we run back to Pre-Crucifixion God? Do we say to ourselves, "This God of mine, he loved me so much that he sent his son to die for me. Where else could I find love like that? Where could I find forgiveness like that? Look what he did in the past, surely he would love me in the present!"

No, that is usually not what I do. Often, when I fail, I construct a less loving God in my head. He has arbitrary rules and regulations. He is not so loving. He is a God who keeps score and tallies failure. He wants me to earn things. He does not lavish grace. He regulates it. I end up finding an After Crucifixion God. A less loving caricature of the God I used to know.

I end up serving two Gods.

But the truth is, there is only one God.

God was not just loving in the past, he is love.

God was not just forgiving in the past, he is forgiveness.

God was not just gracious in the past, he is grace.

The God who drew you near with the death of his son, is the same God who loves you through the new failures of the new day. That wild love, is still the love he gives.

Because there is only one God.

I hope my daughters will always know that the dad who loved them when they were 3 will love them when they are 33. I hope L.E. and McRae will always know my love for them is not subject to performance or accomplishment. It just is.

And I'm only a dad, a broken human of a dad.

Imagine how the one God feels about you?

The Preemptive Meet and Greet

Last Sunday, I grabbed seats in church while my wife brought the kids to Sunday School. I usually use those few minutes of wait time to dump every idea I have in my head into a moleskine notebook or evernote on my iPhone. (Idea generation is one of the parts of my brain I have to quiet a little if I'm really going to focus on worship.) A few minutes after sitting down, a couple in their 50s slid in next to me. The wife, immediately said, "Hi, I'm Patty and this is my husband Mark!"

I was honestly flabbergasted by this gesture.

Not that it was rude. I was touched that Patty wanted to meet me. I was honored that she wanted to introduce me to her husband. I just wasn't expecting it. Why?

Patty had executed a perfect "Preemptive Meet and Greet."

She didn't wait for the guy running the announcements to tell us, "turn to your neighbor and say hello." She didn't wait for the pastor to ask us to turn to our neighbor with an assignment, "Ask the person next to you if they enjoyed the snow last week." Nope, Patty just went for it and it was actually pretty awesome.

I think there are a few reasons this was such a great experience:

1. Patty didn't front hug me.

Shaking the hand of a stranger on a Sunday morning is a great. I got to meet Patty! Things would have been very different though if she slid next to me and said, "Hi, I'm Patty! I'm a hugger. Get over here. It's going to be a long one too, you person I've never laid eyes on before." (Hard to say if a side hug would have worked in that situation or not.)

2. Patty kept the handshake simple.

It always kills me when you meet a stranger and your very first handshake is a complicated, 12 step, snap + half hug move. I feel like I'm being inducted into the secret Stonecutters guild. Patty kept the handshake simple and straightforward. We locked hands, shook approximately 2.3 times and broke it off. Anyone who saw it could not have mistaken us as members of the Crips or the Bloods.

3. Patty didn't race our pastor Pete Wilson.

Our church doesn't usually do the "meet and greet." It seemed like Patty knew that and was taking the situation into her own hands. If Cross Point did regularly do a meet and greet, then Patty's gesture could have been interpreted as her beating Pete Wilson to the punch. Kind of an "in your face, been there done that," meet and greet touchdown dance.

At this point, some of you might be thinking, "I always greet people I sit next to, I guess my faith is rich and warm and filled with community, you cold hearted monster of a man." I think that's a little extreme considering all I said was that I didn't want to share a long front hug with a stranger, but you're certainly entitled to your own opinion. I personally think the Patty interchange was perfect.

When my wife slid into our row a couple of minutes later, I excitedly said, "Jenny, this is Patty and her husband Mark!" We felt like old friends by that point, which I think is ultimately the goal of the preemptive meet and greet.

Have you ever experienced a preemptive meet and greet?

Does your church do the meet and greet during service?

The trouble with fruit.

I'm starting to hate Gordo.

At first, he seemed like a good guy. Always around, up for a good time, he was the life of a party. Now though, after spending a few months with him, I beginning to think he might be a bad influence.

On my pants.

Over the last few months I've been hanging out way too much with "Gordo's Cheese Dip," the microwaveable version of queso that Walmart sells. I put on 10 pounds and several pairs of my pants are suddenly too short. At first I hoped it was the arrival of my much prayed for late growth spurt that would add a foot to my height, thus allowing me to dunk. But unfortunately that is not the case.

Now clearly, 10 extra pounds is not a massive crisis, but let's do the math. I gained 10lbs in four months. Over a year, that's a potential 30 extra pounds. That is a big deal. So I did what I did in college to get in shape, I ran three times and thought about being healthy. But apparently, your metabolism goes on sabbatical when you turn 35 because that did nothing.

Frustrated, and now wearing pants from the "husky" side of my closet, I decided something needed to change. I started eating a slow carb diet. I read that people who keep food photo diaries made better eating decisions so I started to take a photo of all my meals. I stopped eating snacks after dinner and quit drinking soda. I started going to a trainer three days a week with some buddies from work.

And in the middle of this new found discipline, I realized something disappointing:

I apply more focus and purpose to my diet than I do my deity.

With gusto I was now devouring spinach and drinking massive amounts of water. I was eating legumes by the bushel, two words I had never even used before. I was killing myself in the gym with a football style weight sled called the "prowler." I made a commitment to being healthy and was executing that commitment with ferocity.

All the while ignoring my faith.

I'd read the Bible, if I thought of it.

I'd grab a quiet time, if nothing else came up.

I'd pray in between things, if I could fit God into the margins of my day.

And although my pants started to fit better after a few weeks, my heart and soul continued to suffer as I treated God like a casual hobby, not a critical savior. Have you ever done that? Have you ever said, "I just have such a hard time maintaining a consistent quiet time! I'm just not good at forming habits!" Meanwhile, your diet is on point, you never miss an episode of your favorite TV show and your weekly progress reports to your boss are a well organized thing of beauty.

I probably wouldn't have been so bothered by my realization about my diet if the Bible was fuzzy on this issue, but it is unfortunately not. Here is what Proverbs 3:9 says:

"Honor the Lord with your wealth, with the firstfruits of all your crops"

That word, "firstfruits" is a powerful one. We're not called to give God the last scraps of our fruit, the remainder, but rather the "firstfruits." Now clearly, there are financial ramifications to that verse, but what if it's bigger than that? What if we're called to give:

The firstfruits of our time.

The firstfruits of our creativity.

The firstfruits of our focus.

The firstfruits of our energy.

The firstfruits of our love.

Can you imagine what church would be like if members gave the firstfruits of their creativity to the Lord? We complain that the church is cheesy sometimes. Of course it is, we've been feeding it rotten fruit.

Can you imagine what church would be like if we gave the firstfruits of our love? We like to take shots at the church for being unloving and judgmental. Of course it is, we've been feeding it rotten fruit.

Can you imagine what it would be like for your life if you gave God the firstfruits of your time? I can't because all too often I've given him rotten fruit. But I'm trying to change that and I've already learned something new in the process.

When I give God my firstfruits in the morning, when I start the day with him, it's like putting on 3D glasses. The rest of the day looks different. I can see his hand more clearly, hear his voice louder, and feel his touch closer.

I'm not perfect at the firstfruits concept. At heart, this is an "I'm failing, but don't want to" post. But with grace and hope, I'm working on being more deliberate with my firstfruits.

Let's stop giving God our last fruits.

#5 in 2010: Leaving church before it's over.

(I'd like to take credit for the popularity of this post, but I can't. I told a friend's story about something his kid did in the middle of church that was hilarious. That's why this post is on the top 10 list of 2010. Thank goodness for 4 year olds who will scream funny things in the middle of church.)

Leaving church before it's over.

Last week, I spoke in San Diego about the impact of Christ in the Denzel Washington movie, "Man on Fire." And for the most part it was a pretty good experience.

Why just, "for the most part?"

Well, about five minutes into my talk, two people got up and left. Not together, they left individually at different times. Then midway through, two people came in, listened for a minute and then walked back out. Normally, four people leaving wouldn't be a big deal. But there were only 25 people in the room. So those four people represented 16% of the audience. As a speaker, you are highly aware of someone on the second row of a 25-person crowd deciding, "This is whack, I'm going to bounce."

In my head, I instantly thought:

1. Did I swear? I don't feel like I did, but did I start off this talk with profanity?

2. I was talking about prayer. Did they hate me joking about telling people you'll pray for them and then forgetting to?

3. Couldn't they have at least pretended to receive a phone call and whispered, "An orphanage caught on fire and you need me to help put it out? I hate to leave this awesome speech by Jon Acuff, but OK!"

I pushed through my insecurities and ended up actually talking about it at the end of the speech. Everyone who was still there laughed and admitted, that was wicked awkward.

But as uncomfortable as that was, it's nothing compared to what happened to my friends from Texas. They were looking for a new church and visited one on a Sunday morning. They were a little late and the church was so full they asked my friends to sit in the crying room with the screaming babies. (If you're a member, this was a great time to scoot to the middle and make room, versus make a visitor sit in the wailing room, but I digress.)

Ten minutes into the service, they knew this was not going to be the right fit for them and sitting in the yelling closet wasn't awesome, so they left. As they entered the sanctuary to walk out the back, their four year old yelled loud enough for everyone to hear, "Dad, we're leaving! Why are we leaving? Why dad, why are we leaving? It's not over yet!"

Then he started telling them that he wanted to take the elevator instead of the stairs, something they had promised on the way in. (Elevators are like suburban roller coasters for 4 year olds.) As their son trumpeted their exit, my friend grabbed him like a cord of fire wood under one arm and ran down the stairs like a bank robber.

Awesome. That makes me feel a little better about what happened to me.

But it does make me curious about two things:

1. Have you ever left church before it was over? If so, why?

2. What's the craziest, most embarrassing thing your kid has done in church?

Creating a "Cone of Silence" when you miss your favorite team because of church.

I didn't do this. Last Sunday, despite the NFL playoffs, we went to church at the time we do every week. I didn't rearrange my entire day of worship because of some silly football game. But then I didn't have to, the Patriots game was at 3:30 central.

Despite living in Atlanta for the last six years, I grew up in Massachusetts. Though I root for the Falcons, the Patriots are the team I care about most. And since I wrote this post before the game was played on Sunday, allow me to react to what may have been the outcome:

1. The Patriots won, God is good!

Hard to believe they beat the Jets like that but after all the trash the Jets were talking, it makes sense. God hates football trash talk. That idea was discussed somewhere in the Old Testament when David and his ragtag posse played against the Philistines in a game of pickup football. (For some reason I think I remember Burt Reynolds played quarterback.) God is good!

2. The Patriots lost, God is good!

There's more to life than football and once again, God reminded me of that. I regret that the Patriots lost, but would never trade the lesson in humility I received for something as hollow as a playoff victory. Plus, now instead of wasting time watching the Super Bowl, I'll have more time to read my Bible. It's just a game. God is good!

Regardless of the outcome of the game, I've got both of my bases covered. Best of all, I'll be watching the game live, instead of Tivoing it while I'm at church. This happens sometimes though. Whether you're a Tar Heel watching college basketball or a Brit watching Manchester United, church obligations take precedence over sports regardless of it's a Sunday, Wednesday or any other day of the week.

If you have the ability to tape it and watch it later, you have to create a "Cone of Silence" to ensure you don't learn the outcome before you watch the recording. Here are four things you need to remember:

1. Don't talk to anyone in the lobby.

OK, you went to the 12:30 service. You just got out and you've got the Chicago Bears game taping at home. Do not talk with anyone in the lobby. Fellowship, schmellowship. Build community next Sunday. The chances of a friend accidentally giving you a first quarter score update are too high.

2. Start all your conversations on that Sunday with the right phrase.

What's the right phrase to say if anyone even makes eye contact with you? "I haven't seen the Chicago game yet!" That's a weird thing to yell at a stranger during the meet and greet time of a 6:00PM church service, but sometimes you can't watch the game right away. Throw out that disclaimer the moment you engage with anyone in conversation.

3. Beware the guy who reads the announcements.

The guy or girl who reads the announcements at church is always tempted to ad lib a little. Beware the casual, "We'll be holding a kids' event next weekend. Hopefully it will be better than that Patriots game. Jeez, that was ugly." I'm not suggesting you put your fingers in your ears and repeat, "I don't hear you, I don't hear you" loudly to yourself while shaking back and forth in the pew, but would it kill you to leave and go to the bathroom during the announcements?

4. Don't brag about it.

Your grandfather used to play for the Steelers? Your dad helped build the new stadium? You were named after Terry Bradshaw? You have a Steelers tattoo and yet you still decided to come to church and record the game out of love for the Lord? Well guess what? Like someone bragging about a fast, you just received your reward. The glory of man, not the glory of God. I hope you're happy. Was it worth it?

I hope these tips prove helpful for the NFL playoffs and any other sporting event that bumps into a church obligation you have. Just remember, a Sunday Cone of Silence has about a 12 hour shelf life. If you tape the game and don't get to watch it for a few days, all bets are off. Don't be that friend who waited a week to watch the finale of Lost and then yelled at everyone else for talking about it.

What's your favorite team? Who would you build a Cone of Silence for?

Office Prayers.

Last Monday morning, I had a meeting scheduled at 11:30AM to discuss the title of my new book with Dave Ramsey. He's sold millions of books and written a couple of New York Time's Bestsellers. I was eager for his advice.

The weekend before, I practiced my ten-minute, "Here is why this title is the best one," monologue like it was a speech. I sat down in our spare bedroom, because I knew I'd be sitting in the meeting and recreated the meeting as closely as possible. (I am wicked weird.)

I went through the whole thing a couple of times, timing myself to make sure I had my rhythm right and was making only the most salient points. I was ready for my 11:30AM meeting. That is until 10:03, when my phone rang and the person who hired me told me, "Dave's up in my office, come on up let's go ahead and do this right now."

I immediately threw out what I call an "office prayer." Why? Because I needed the printer to work. I already had one copy of the agenda printed out but now the number of attendees had tripled in size. I needed to print multiple copies and I needed them fast. I can't prove this, but sometimes I think our printer can sense dire need like dogs sense fear and automatically slows itself down just to mess with me. So I prayed for a fast print job.

Have you ever prayed an office prayer? I know I have over the last 12 years I've worked in offices of various shapes and sizes.

Here are the Office Prayers I've prayed the most:

1. That I would show grace to the guy who turns on the lights.

I once worked at a company where 25 of us liked to work with the bright, soul sucking fluorescent lights off. And one guy liked them on. He'd come in for the second shift at 10AM and laugh the whole way down the hall because he loved messing with the people who preferred the lights off. (A light switch is a weird thing to get a power trip over, but there it is. I promise you work with this guy too.) I need to show guys like that way more grace.

2. That no one would heat up seafood in the break room.

I'm happy that you had conch fritters last night at the new Caribbean restaurant in town. And you got sea bass too? Again, fantastic. But when you heat it up the next day at work, you turn the entire break room into a pier. If my prayer fails, and you do get all "Dead Lobster" in our cubicles, at least don't feign surprise at the oceanic funk you've created. Every office seafood eater I've ever met has said, "I don't know what that smell is, must be someone else's lunch." Sure it is.

3. That I wouldn't get into any "urinal conversations."

It's a bathroom, not a conference room. I don't talk to you, you don't talk to me, and we'll get out of this place quickly. We'll talk in the hall. Unless what you need to say is, "There is a poisonous spider on your back, don't move," chances are, our conversation can wait 42 seconds. Does that make me weird? Without a doubt, but I will also never answer the phone while in the bathroom if you call me. So I've got that going for me, which is nice.

4. That I would discover leftover food from a meeting, or "Office Manna."

My favorite flavor of food is "free." In general, I find free food to be pretty delicious as a category. When I worked at AutoTrader.com we went through a serious of intense projects. In order to save time, the company graciously brought in lunch for us. There was a hall of conference rooms that became like a food court. Want Mexican? Go to the room with all the developers. Italian? Check out the project management room. Finding leftovers from meetings in a conference room was like "Office Manna" to me.

5. That I'd resist the temptation to jump people at the printer.

I know given my street youth appearance and sassy mouth, you probably thought I meant, "jump" as in fight. Not at all. On some printers, when there is a long list of print jobs going through, you can increase the priority of yours. You go to the "job list," find your document in a pile of 20 other jobs and jump it to the front. A lot of people don't know how to do that, but I do because I did it all the time if no one was at the printer. (So I was a jerk and a coward.) I know printer etiquette isn't mentioned directly in the Bible, but the "first shall be last" kind of thing has to apply to office settings too.

6. That I would win the microwave race.

I don't care if your lunch takes 19 minutes to heat up. That's the whole point of a break room microwave. It heats up lunch. I will never complain that your food is taking too long. But I promise you that I will be praying I beat you to the microwave. I consider that a fantastic office race, "first to the microwave."

7. That I have the strength of three staplers.

What's your personal best for number of pieces of paper you can staple through with a standard issue stapler? Mine is 23. When I attempt 24, I end up with that incredibly disappointing, bent out of control, sharp shard of a staple that refuses to go through all the pages but also refuses to come out easily. It's a mangled mess. Sometimes I pray for Samson like staple strength.

Have you ever prayed one of those seven or invented your own? Have you ever said an office prayer that upon uttering you realized was pretty silly?

What's your office prayer?