Jon Acuff's Blog, page 166

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?

[image error]

Finding out Justin Bieber is a Christian.

I still remember where I was when OJ Simpson was declared innocent.

I was in the middle of a class at Samford University, in Birmingham, Alabama. I forget my professor's name, but he kind of reminded me of a white haired Jeff Goldblum. When most of us got up from class early to go watch the verdict he made fun of us. I understand his point, but I promise no one is writing a blog today about "I remember where I was when I first discussed the socio-economic conditions of Southern France in the early 1800s."

We watched the verdict in the lobby of our cafeteria. And when he was declared innocent of murdering his wife and her boyfriend, some of the cafeteria workers clapped and proclaimed, "Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus!" I remember thinking to myself, "I'm not sure Jesus wants the shout out for that one."

But as little impact as that moment had on my overall life, I do have that moment sealed firmly in my memory. Just like today's, which will probably be as equally dramatic for you as it was for me.

Last night, in Franklin, Tennessee, while walking around my house, I read online that pop singer Justin Bieber is a Christian.

Upon learning that, I immediately thought three things:

1. People are going to Bono him.

In Christian circles, to "Bono" somebody is to use CSI like detective techniques to determine if their faith fits your personal definition of what it actually means to be a Christian. Just like Bono is always called into question and people will say, "He's never actually said out loud 'I'm a Christian,'" Bieber's Christianity will be Sherlocked on blogs the world over.

2. People are going to Britney him.

When I told my friend Justin Bieber is a Christian, he immediately said, "Yeah, I'm sure Britney Spears said the same thing. Every pop star gives God a head nod." I understand that skepticism, but Bieber didn't just give a shout out to God. He said, "I'm a Christian, I believe in God, I believe that Jesus died on a cross for my sins. I believe that I have a relationship and I'm able to talk to him and really, he's the reason I'm here, so I definitely have to remember that." No one casually says, "Jesus died on a cross for my sins." That's way more than a head nod.

3. People are going to think Ludacris is next.

OK, maybe not people, but me anyway. Luda did a song with Bieber. They're friends. Maybe they do another song together. They're sitting in the studio, Justin is drinking a diet Coke, Luda is sippin' on Yak. They start talking about the pressures of the industry. Luda says it's hard to maintain his dirty south street cred while doing appearances on Martha Stewart. Justin shares the gospel. Ten minutes later? Luda is doing a project with NeedtoBreathe. This is going to happen.

I know what you're thinking, "Thank goodness Jon went all serious on election day. This is just the kind of hard hitting content I've come to expect these last two years."

No problem my friend. You're welcome, you're welcome. But all points aside, all silliness aside, I'm excited to see Justin Bieber talk about faith. Just like I'm excited to hear my neighbor talk about faith. Or my dentist. They're all just people. Like me and like you.

I'm curious though, I remember where I was with the OJ verdict. What's an event you will forever have frozen in your memory?

[image error]

We are living in a golden age of breakdancing.

I can't believe these 8 year olds. I am blown away. I've never seen pop n' lock like this, at this age. Absolutely ridiculous. Thanks to @jscottmoore for finding this. If you want to smile today, watch the video after the jump:

[image error]

The person who starts a coughing chain reaction in church.

A few weeks ago, my 7 year old got sick. If you read my heart wrenching Ray Charles food poisoning tale, then you know what a big deal that is. She hates to throw up like I hate LeBron James trying to make me feel bad for thinking he could have done a better job leaving the Cleveland Cavaliers.

But this time, she was actually pretty good. There were no tears or shouting. She got sick and then laid down on a princess blow up bed that has already been worth its weight in gold. My wife and I complimented her on such a great turnaround from the usual reaction to illness. Later that day though, I pulled my four year old aside and let her know, "You're really great at throwing up too." (Lot of parenting books don't tell you to do that, but then a lot of parenting books don't tell you that one of the hardest parts of being a parent is having the patience to wait until your kids are asleep to pop their old half deflated helium balloons.)

When I told McRae she was good at throwing up, she looked me dead in the eye and immediately replied:

"I'm the champion of puking."

Then she walked away. Like a wide receiver tossing the ball casually to the referee after scoring a touchdown, she didn't do a celebration dance. She acted like she'd been there before. This wasn't her first vomit rodeo. (Which would make a great punk band name by the way. You can have that one for free.)

Regardless of if you have kids or not, you have to know that right now, we're all on the precipice of get sick season. Our friends in Australia are probably just coming out of theirs, but here in the states, we're entering cold days and flu season. And standing on the edge of that, I have but one thing to say:

Please don't be the person who starts a coughing chain reaction in church.

I've been this person. You get a tickle that grows into a tiny cough that grows into a whoop. A literal whoop! And then everyone around you starts coughing too. It's infectious, like seeing someone yawn. And I don't want any of us to be this person. Here are a few things to keep in mind:

1. You will not be able to will yourself into not coughing.

I think my body giggles when I try to mentally control my coughing fit. I feel like my mind is the corporate Gabe character in the TV show the Office. He's yelling at all the employees and saying, "Come on guys, seriously, stop coughing." But my body just laughs and keeps coughing regardless of what my mind says. You can't "outthink" a cough.

2. You are not in a cone of silence.

Sometimes coughing people refuse to leave the service because they think they are in a cone of silence and no one else can hear them. They think they have done such a great job suppressing the sound that not even the person next to them is aware of what they are doing. Let me clear up that misunderstanding. We're aware. Your cheeks are unfortunately not acoustic noise cancelling Bose headphones. They simply don't possess the same circumaural design. If anything, your mouth is the perfect acoustic chamber, designed to amplify and strengthen any sound you make. Like coughing in church.

3. Menthol is not up to the task.

You've got a full body, 140 pounds of force cough going. You're shaking and destroying Kleenex like owning a Pappion destroys man cards. So you go to your pocket and pull out a menthol cough drop weighing approximately .10 ounces. Yeah, that ought to do the trick. Problem averted. But not really. Put your faith in Jesus and pray that cough will stop. Don't think for a second a single menthol will handle it. (Unless it's a fisherman's friend cough drop. Those things are the color of old garbage but they bring the thunder.)

If you've had part of your lung removed or are seriously under the weather, please don't write angry comments. Even though people who have had partial lung removal surgery constitute a small portion of the Stuff Christians Like audience, I want to take care of them too. But if you've got a tickle, a tiny cough you plan to chain reaction to the entire congregation, please, go get a drink of water.

Has this ever happened to you?

[image error]

Feeling bad that you didn't blog about Halloween.

It's now an official Christian blogging rule that you have to write a post about Halloween. There are really only 3 options:

1. I hate Halloween.

This approach needs little explanation and is actually on the decline. In years gone by, a phrase I say to sound fancy and a smidge British, I got a few emails every fall about how horrible this pseudo holiday is. Now, not a peep.

2. We love Halloween!

Take that first one and reverse. Now add Good n' Fruity, which is like the delicious version of Good n' Plenty. (Worst candy ever. It's like the reverse of candy. It's candy punishment.) In these posts you basically just talk about how awesome candy and Halloween and costumes are.

3. Christian hybrid Halloween.

It's not Halloween, it's not. Is it held in October? Yes. Do kids get candy? Yes. Do kids dress up? Yes. Are there pumpkins involved? Yes. But it's not Halloween, it's a "Fall Festival."

I'm not sure where I fall in that mix. I was in Mexico this whole week teaching business leaders about social media. Maybe if I was back home I would have written a longer series of candy corn flavored posts. (How great are those candy corn style pumpkins? I love those.)

I don't know how I feel about Halloween, but I have two little mermaids at home waiting for me and I'll be happy we get to walk around our neighborhood and ask people for candy that is not a Good n' Plenty.

What do you think about Halloween?

[image error]

Phoning in dinner on Sunday night.

(Someday, I am going to convince my wife Jenny, who is wicked hot and wicked smart, to start her own blog. Until then though, I'll have to be happy with her jumping in with the occasional guest post about Beth Moore, Hobby Lobby and Dinner. Enjoy.)

Phoning in dinner on Sunday night.

I have a confession to make, which is odd considering Jon started last Monday's post the same way. But it's true, I do have something I need to admit.

I phone in dinner on Sunday night.

I wing it.

If you come to the Acuff house for dinner on Sunday night, you are going to be at the bare minimum slightly disappointed.

Why?

The week is over. I'm exhausted. Sure, Jon has taken care of the kids, cleaned the house, washed the clothes by hand in a mountain stream and provided for all of my emotional needs, but I'm still tired. (Jon wrote that last sentence.)

But I'm done. Have you ever felt "done?" Have you ever finished a day and tagged your husband and said, "you're it, the kids are all yours?" That's what Sundays feel like sometimes. And when they do, one of the following things is going to happen at our house for dinner:

1. Make your own sandwich night!

Hooray, sandwiches that you get to make yourself! How fun! Kids always fall for this one. (I'm still trying to spin this into "Make mom and dad's bed morning" but they appear resistant to the tactic.)

2. Breakfast supper

If we had scrambled eggs at lunch, I'd get funny looks. Dinner? That's breakfast supper! Bacon? Check. Eggs? Check. Grits? Check. You throw pancakes in the mix and you've got a legit supper.

3. Leftovers parade.

Take every meal we've had for the last two days, heat, plate with some sort of garnish, like popsicles, and you're good to go. Now a lot of chefs, particularly French chefs, will not agree with me that a red popsicle can be used as a garnish, but you give me a popsicle and I will give you two incredibly pliable children willing to eat broccoli.

4. Dad cooks dinner.

Cooks is too strong of a word, but if I titled it accurately and wrote, "Dad cooks 99 cent Totino's Frozen Pizzas" that would be too long. Jon loves those things, but I'm sorry, the freeze-dried cubes of green peppers on the "Supreme" don't constitute a vegetable. Vegetable matter? Sure.

5. Chicken Fingers.

Jon has a theory that anytime Saturday Night Live feels ratings slipping they call Justin Timberlake and have him host. Something about Justin Timberlake makes everything better. That's how I feel about chicken fingers. Although we're out of the solid year of chicken fingers, CF08, they still make a cameo and will do when needed.

Maybe we'll all have dinner some night. Jon is constantly inviting people over and then telling me about it approximately 19 minutes before they show up.

But if you do come over, please make sure it's Tuesday night. You'll get A-game Acuff dining on Tuesday night. Sunday night? I'm phoning that one in.

How about you? Ever phoned it in on a Sunday night?

[image error]

Wondering if you could get out of the way if a stereo speaker fell from the ceiling at church.

Sometimes, before the service starts, I stare at the ceiling in church. For reasons I can't explain, I'm pretty convinced that at some point, I will need to possess catlike reflexes in order to dive out of the way, in order to avoid a stereo speaker that is falling.

I've never actually witnessed this.

As a pastor's kid, I have sat through thousands of church services. I have seen elderly members bring in their own tambourine, crazy Vacation Bible Schools and a million other things, but I have never seen a speaker fall.

And yet, I am convinced it is only a matter of time. Perhaps it will happen before worship begins. (Which I love at Cross Point.) Perhaps it will happen in that magical moment when my pastor, Pete Wilson, materializes out of the dark to start the sermon. This is one of my favorite moments and I secretly hope that one day Pete will emerge dramatically like metrosexual magician Criss Angel. Perhaps it will happen at the end of the sermon when some slow Aisle Blocker is delaying my egress. It's really hard to tell.

But this is what I think about. If you see me taking notes before the service starts I'm probably not writing down Stuff Christians Like ideas. I'm probably charting stereo speaker escape routes. (Go toward the stage. That's the mistake most people make. You have to go deeper into danger to escape danger because exits are often uphill depending on the design of your church.)

My wife is probably praying before church starts. She is good like that. She is hott and smart and tells me things like, "No one has ever put their foot in their ear. Talk less and listen more." She spends her pre church moments praying or thinking about Grace Livingston Hill or Francine Rivers books.

Me? I'm like Patrick Swayze in the movie Roadhouse. I'm looking for possible obstacles. Low pews I can jump. Church pencils I might slip on. Older people who have already enjoyed very long, fruitful lives and may have to take one for the team if a speaker falls. Normal, mature kind of stuff like that.

I'm probably alone in this concern. I can appreciate that. I'm weird. You never think about this. But what do you think about? What's the weird, distracting thought you seem to come back to while you're waiting for church to start?

[image error]

Ignoring the soundtrack.

"I don't want to discourage you, but we won't sell that many books."

"Why did you decide to do that?

"You are making a mistake. That won't work. That's not how things are done."

These are the kind of things I've been hearing lately as I write a new book. And these are not ill-founded concerns. I have a satire book coming out in about month. I just saw the cover and couldn't be more excited about how funny the whole project turned out. I can't wait to tell you all about it very soon. But then there is the question of the third book.

It is a topic that is out of my comfort zone.

It is a subject that some people will not see coming.

It is different and a little bit crazy.

But, it is the book I've been living for the last 12 years. It is the culmination of the wildness of the last 3 years. It is the slingshot in my heart I feel God has been pulling taunt for reasons I can't explain.

And into that space comes something we're all familiar with. Doubt.

As soon as you try something different, doubt comes. Doubt is different from the concerned wisdom of friends. It's toxic and it's only aim is to stop you. I'm unfortunately getting a Phd in doubt right now, both from other people and from myself. You might have the same soundtrack inside that I do.

"Who are you to try that?"

"This is the wrong time. Wait."

"You're not talented enough to do that."

These are the things we hear and I've learned the reason why. It's actually pretty simple:

Doubt is talkative.

It's verbose. It's loud and constantly running at the mouth. And the surprising truth is that it's always been that way.

I actually noticed that fact the other day in the Old Testament. I'm trying to read the Bible in a year. I'm probably not going to make it considering it's October and I'm in Numbers. In the midst of reading Numbers 13, I noticed something.

The Israelites were on the edge of the Promised Land. They were on the precipice of realizing what God had declared to them. In order to understand the opposition, they send in 12 spies to scout out the land. The results fall into two different categories. One group is overcome with doubt, the other feels the adventure is possible.

Here is what the doubters say:

"We went into the land to which you sent us, and it does flow with milk and honey! Here is its fruit. But the people who live there are powerful, and the cities are fortified and very large. We even saw descendants of Anak there. The Amalekites live in the Negev; the Hittites, Jebusites and Amorites live in the hill country; and the Canaanites live near the sea and along the Jordan."

Here is what Caleb, one of the two people who didn't doubt, said:

"We should go up and take possession of the land, for we can certainly do it."

Do you see the difference there? Do you see what happens?

The doubters use 72 words.

Caleb? He uses 16.

He barely says an entire sentence. And the doubters respond to him by saying:

"We can't attack those people; they are stronger than we are. The land we explored devours those living in it. All the people we saw there are of great size. We saw the Nephilim there. We seemed like grasshoppers in our own eyes, and we looked the same to them."

All told, the doubters said 122 words to describe their plight. There were 122 words to describe the fear. Caleb said 16.

We should go up. We can certainly do it. Come on, we've got this.

It's so simple, it almost feels ridiculous, but it's not because in his words you can hear him saying, "Yeah, but God is on our side."

The people who live there are powerful! Yeah, but God is on our side.

The cities are fortified! Yeah, but God is on our side.

They are stronger than we are! Yeah, but God is on our side.

The land we explored devours those living in it! Yeah, but God is on our side.

We seemed like grasshoppers in our own eyes! Yeah, but God is on our side.

Again and again, word after word, the doubt is raised. It's talkative. It's the ocean. It keeps coming, but Caleb keeps believing "we can certainly do it."

And so can you.

Are the challenges difficult? Are there obstacle and reasons it shouldn't work numerous? Is it difficult for a busy mom to start a company she feels called to? Is it hard to go back to school and work at the same time? Should it be impossible for a blog to raise $32,250 in 24 hours?

Yeah, but God is on our side.

[image error]

Me & CNN.

I love writing for CNN. They have graciously and generously given me a huge platform to share the gospel. And yesterday they loaded a new article I wrote about the 4 ways to scandal proof your church. I'd love you to check it out. Click here to read it.

One of the things that happens when I write for CNN is that a lot of hate ends up in the comments section. And realizing that reminded me of how grateful I am for the way people comment on Stuff Christians Like. Folks disagree with me often but they do it with grace. So thank you, thanks for commenting on SCL and not lowering the conversation with personal attacks or hate. I am a big fan of your willingness to challenge me on the ideas we discuss. Thank you!

[image error]

Praying for things you shouldn't pray for.

Praying for things you shouldn't pray for.

You have never done this. You wake in the morning and talk to bluebirds and enjoy a warm cup of coffee and a bit of Old Testament. Your days are like Guideposts articles. Nice. Kind. Never full of what I am going to admit today.

There is something none of us should pray for, but some of us do.

OK here it is:

Sometimes I pray that my friends who were blessed with a naturally easy kid will be blessed with a difficult second child.

Not all the time. I don't pray that for everyone's second kid, just the friends who are cocky and think that it is there tremendously awesome parenting skills that has made there kids go to bed at 6 every night without fights.

Do you have friends like this? Their first kid is a dream! That kid taught herself to read at the age of two. She feeds the homeless on the weekend. She brushes her teeth just "because," not after lengthy negotiations. She always shares her toys and last Christmas told her parents, "I don't need gifts, the gift of your love is enough for me." She eats broccoli without being bribed and thinks that books are better than television.

Which is great, unless your friends take credit for it. If they've done very little to shape that naturally easy going child and yet still brag in a way that makes you feel like a complete loser of a parent, I think it's OK to you perhaps pray that their second child is a little more difficult.

Do you know this child?

We say "spirited," not "difficult."

Our kids have a blood pact that they won't fall asleep in the car.

Our kids broke us down over a series of late night maneuvers that eliminated our ability to get the sleep necessary to maintain rational thought.

Our kids broker "vegetable deals" like investment bankers. They are like Goldman Sachs of brussel sprouts. They always win and I always feel like we lose at the dinner table.

Our kids are awesome and when someone else with a calm kid used to give me crazy advice it used to frustrate me.

Until I started praying their kid would be born double fisting sharpies, with a hunger for hallway walls and toddler graffiti.

That probably makes me a horrible Christian.

I can accept that.

[image error]