Jon Acuff's Blog, page 66

Gotta love a pretzel.

Well played. (Via the meta picture.)

Waiting on the Lord (but not traffic lights)

(Here’s a guest post from Jeff Goins. You can check out his blog here. If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here’s how!)

Every Wednesday night, I pull one of my fourteen Bibles off the shelf, get in the car, and drive to Bible study.

After two hours of intense discussion about important topics such as God’s timing and what kind of hair product our worship leader uses, I’m recharged until Sunday.

With peers, I share what God is teaching me and how I’m trying to be more intentional about community. I even feel like I’m starting to walk in the Spirit. Then I get in my car, taking the two-minute drive home, still high on spiritual serotonin, and that’s when the traffic light hits.

That awful, evil, demonic traffic light. It must have descended straight from Beelzebub, because it appears from out of nowhere (as the Devil often does in movies). And I swear that light only turns red when I approach it. All other times, it is definitely green.

The brakes in my Toyota come to a screeching halt, Chick-fil-a boxes fly to the floorboards, and I start cussing like a sailor.

Not one of those reformed sailors, mind you. Not even a “good” pirate like Jack Sparrow. No. A veritable, no-good, scurvy-ridden, filthy-mouthed scourge of the seas.

For the whole Bible study, I keep my cool. Full of grace, I share Bonhoeffer quotes like they’re going out of style, sprinkling my speech with Bible verses Mumford and Sons lyrics. My friends are wowed by my theological insight and cultural relevance.

And frankly, so am I.

But nobody hears my nearly satanic tirade in the car. Nobody sees me fly off the handle, screaming at the dashboard. Nobody witnesses that part.

Nobody but me.

Normally, I am full of patience. I’m the guy who prays for God to “break our heart for the things that break Yours” (even capitalize pronouns in prayers). But as soon as I exit my comfortable circle of Christianity, I plunge straight back into depravity. So fast that even John Calvin can’t stop the descent.

I’m good at being patient when I want to. But in traffic, all bets are off. This is a place where God’s grace does not reach, an inner circle of hell Dante definitely neglected to mention in the Inferno.

So I scream and shout and say words that would make even Mark Driscoll blush. Offended my two-minute drive home has now turned into a five-minute trip.

Sorry, friends. I’ve got places to be and shows to watch. I gave my hour and a half of spirituality, and now it’s back to the rest of life.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind waiting — when it’s up to me, when it’s my call, when it makes me look spiritual.

But when I don’t have a choice, that doesn’t really feel like waiting. During those times, I’d much rather bypass the traffic light and just pay the ticket I get in the mail. Worse things could happen, right?

I could miss the first few minutes of Criminal Minds. And that, friends, is something that truly can’t wait.

Do you struggle at the stoplight?

To keep up with Jeff, check out his new book (which is all about waiting).

The pig prayer.

I do not own any pigs.

I have never had a herd or a flock or a gaggle or whatever it is you call an assembled body of swine.

But, despite my very pig free life, I have a metaphorical collection of future bacon that would blow your mind.

I have things I want.

Things I need.

Things I try to protect.

And into that pasture comes a savior.

I read the Bible and scoff in dismay at people who cared more about their pigs than the healing of two demon possessed men. “How could they be so blind?” I cry at the black and white pages, all the while tightening my arms around my stuff.

I try to bend God’s will to mine.

Try to align his promises to my plans.

I focus on my requests, not my relationship, secretly hoping that a savior who cares for people over pigs will not cross my horizon.

It’s easy to laugh at foolish people in the Bible but if Christ said “I need your platform, possessions and everything to save someone you’ve never met’s life in a far off field,” the laughing would stop.

 

Caption please.

I drove by this sign the other day, and I immediately pulled over for a photo.

My caption is:

“For those times when you don’t have the letters to spell out ‘Visitors don’t come to our church.’”

What is your caption?

 

5 prayers God never answers.

I write a lot about how awesome God is.

I’ve written approximately 4.2 million blog posts about the Prodigal Son story alone.

Today though, I’ve got some bad news.

There are some prayers God NEVER answers.

5 actually.

1. Prayers to beat Candy Crush levels.

I hate exaggerating, but I almost lost my faith on level 65. I don’t know who owns the Candy Crush app, but satan was definitely one of the developers. Regardless, God will not answer your prayer about beating a specific level.

2. Prayers that Chipotle will stop charging for chips.

I used to avoid Chipotle for this very reason. Charging for chips goes against the very fabric of Mexican restaurants. But, years later, and I’m a fan. So is God. He will not fix this for you.

3. Prayers for a part 2 of Newsies.

Wish this would happen. It won’t. Stop praying it. You’re clogging up the prayer waves for the rest of us.

4. Prayers that the person you cut off on the way to church doesn’t attend your church too.

They do. And they are going to park right next to you. It’s going to be awkward. How awkward? Bathsheba being named Bathsheba while she is taking a bath? (What if she had been showering or jacuzzing? Jacuzzisheba?)

5. Prayers that the queso won’t run out.

It will. Into every bowl, a bottom must fall. I hate it. I really do, but all the prayers in the world about heavenly melted cheese will not save us. Quit it.

I’ve prayed all of these before, and they don’t work.

Save your breath.

What prayer do you think God never answers?

 

Adventurers wanted.

I’m looking for a few adventurers.

Comfort zones will be exploded.

Ordinary dreams will be discarded.

Fear will be pummeled behind a weather worn shed.

Risk guaranteed, success not.

Details to come. Sign up here.

This post will be deleted in 24 hours.

20 Conversations The Bible Left Out

(Here’s a guest post from Stephen Pepper. You can check out his blog here. If you want to write a guest post for SCL, here’s how!)

20 Conversations The Bible Left Out

Have you ever wondered what’s missing from the Bible? There are so many people whose lives are covered over the course of thousands of years in the Bible, millions of situations and conversations will have gone unrecorded.

To try to fill in some of that gap, here are 20 conversations the Bible left out.

Noah: Told you so.

Jonah: And I pray for travelling mercies…

Job: Relax – what’s the worst thing that could happen today?

Eve: Should I wear the green fig leaf or the brown fig leaf?

Lot’s friend: Please could you pass the sa….. Sorry.

David: I’d give Bathsheba a good side hug.

Shadrach, Meshach & Abednego: I’m sorry; we’d prefer not to eat meat. We we’d rather eat Bob, Larry and Jr instead.

Isaac: Um, Dad – this game of “Tie your firstborn son to an altar and hold a knife above his head” doesn’t seem like it’s the most age-appropriate game we could be playing.

Balaam: Your voice doesn’t sound like Eddie Murphy’s.

Abraham: “I have many sons. Many sons have I.” I’m sorry Sarah – the song will never catch on.

Saul / Paul: I’ve just had a real Road To Damascus experience.

The Magi: Our love language is giving gifts.

Person at the feeding of the 5,000: Do you have a gluten-free vegan option?

Noah’s wife: Really Noah? Cockroaches?

Jabez: I wonder if one day someone will write an entire book based on two sentences that I prayed.

John The Baptist: Ooh, that’s a really nice shiny platter – why are you bringing that into a prison?

Solomon: I don’t understand why my 700 wives think I don’t spend enough time with each of them.

Paul: Was it Philippians, Phillippians, Philipians or Phillipians?

Samson: Because I’m worth it.

Adam: What do you mean, why did I call that a hippopotamus? Look at it – it so looks like it should be called a hippopotamus.

Question: What other conversations do you think the Bible didn’t include?

(For more great writing from Stephen, check out his blog here .)

The unwanted gift of solitude.

Before we went on the Start book tour, the guy running it called my wife and asked her what he needed to know about me.

She said, “Jon is an introvert.”

And she’s right. Though my career calls for furious bouts of extroverted action, deep down, I’m an introvert.

I like to be alone.

I like to be quiet.

I like solitude.

But sometimes, that feels like failure.

You run into Christians who are having big, loud, on fire walks with God. You end up thinking maybe your season of quiet is because God is disappointed at you. Maybe you failed somehow. Maybe the silence is punishment.

But then you read the Bible.

Then you realize that often solitude is the doorway to an adventure.

Look at Moses, 40 years of quiet and obscurity before the burning bush.

Look at Joseph, years spent in prison before he ran Egypt.

Look at David, years spent in the fields fighting bears before he fought his giant.

Look at Paul. Talk about solitude, he was literally struck blind and isolated in a way we can’t understand.

Look at Jesus, the first thing that happens to him after being baptized is 40 days in the desert alone.

Is solitude always fun? Nope. Even if your an introvert it can be difficult, but don’t assume it’s punishment.

It just might be an invitation.

Jesus, superhero.

My favorite thing about this picture is how focused and friendly the Hulk looks.

That green dude is into some Jesus!

Hulk Smash?

Nope, Hulk study hermeneutics!

Things you can’t do when you’re not leading worship.

A few years ago, my friends Tripp & Tyler made a video called “Things you can’t do when you’re not in a pool.”

It was a hilarious look at all the silly things you can do in a pool that would look bizarre if you did them downtown on the sidewalk. (Like spitting water at your friends.)

That concept got me thinking and I realized that there are a lot of things worship leaders can do that no one else can do. In fact, I think there are 5 things you can’t do when you’re not leading worship.

1. Tell people to scoot in.

Worship leaders are constantly telling people to scoot to the middle to make room for other people. Try that one next time you go to the movies.

2. Ask people to start clapping.

That’d be a fun one. Next time you’re mowing your lawn, ask your neighbors to clap along.

3. Start singing in the middle of a normal sentence.

Worship leaders love “talk singing.” That’s when they’ll say, “This weekend, me and my wife were having coffee. I just realized everyone needs compassion, love that’s never failing.” In the audience you think, “Wait, we were just having a coffee and now we’re in a magical song. So tricky!” Try that at work today in a meeting. “I think the fourth quarter numbers will be great and we are the champions my friend.”

4. Ask people to stand up.

Do that at the bank, see how long it takes until they think they’re getting robbed. Let me know how that one works out.

5. Close your eyes while talking.

Often, worship leaders will close their eyes during a particularly moving part of a song. Try that in the middle of a normal conversation today. And not for just a few seconds. Hold it. Really hold it.

Those are my five, but I know you’ve got some of your own.

What is something you can’t do if you’re not leading worship?