Jon Acuff's Blog, page 163

Tomorrow is the final day to turn in shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child. Thanks so much participating in it with Stuff Christians Like. We'll announce the winner of the big box of awesome in a few days. Click here to find a shoebox drop off location near you!

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I saw this in a Walgreen's recently. It's a camo snuggie, in case you get cold while you're fishing and think, "I love wearing blankets while participating in outdoorsmen activities, but I need the ability to move my arms, should I need to reel in a bass or punch a bear in the face."

It's Saturday, let's have some silliness. Click through to the photo and …

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Last week, I asked my dad, a pastor in North Carolina, about something I read in Proverbs 1. Here are what two verses I read said:

8 Listen, my son, to your father's instruction and do not forsake your mother's teaching.

9 They will be a garland to grace your head and a chain to adorn your neck.

After reading that, I thought I'd ask my dad what he would consider his "instruction." I was curious what he and my mother would say. Here's an excerpt of his response, which I think probably applies to a lot of us:

Jon, that's a great question. My primary prayer is for you private, interior life to keep growing so that it can support your growing public life. The other half of my prayer is great thankfulness for you and the opportunities that God is giving you.

So, my immediate thoughts:

Read Scripture deeply (not for material but for life, like what you are doing with Proverbs, guarding and sustaining the good habits that you have had.)

Pray deeply – e.g. Prov 3:1-6. Turn what you are learning into prayers.

Read devotional authors deeply – find out from people you respect who they read (that would be a great list to develop down the road)

Share deeply with someone – a friend or counselor

Without missing the fun, sustain a healthy paranoia about your heart and your temptations. I think it is possible to have a healthy paranoia without living fearfully or cautiously. A healthy paranoia not only keeps us alert and honest, but hungry to keep learning. Success dulls our eagerness to learn.

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(I love sharing Ben Meredith's writing with you because in addition to being funny, it's true. As a pastor's kid, I can completely attest to what this guest post is all about and I think it's hilarious. I hope you enjoy another guest post from Ben.)

At my grandfather's funeral, the preacher stood up and shared all about what a sweet, gentle man my grandpa was. He went on for several minutes, and then called me up (one of the perks of missionary life–and this is not sarcastic at all–is to get the opportunity to speak at funerals.) I approached the microphone, and not knowing where to start, said "Well, I'm gonna share a little bit about my Grandpa from the perspective of someone who was around when the preacher wasn't."

The reason that joke worked (or landed as they say in the biz–people actually laughed!) is that cleaning up your act for the preacher is a near-universal thing, especially here in the South.

I went on to share that my grandpa was a great man, one of the greatest I've ever met, but sweet and gentle were not the first words I thought of. He was flawed, harsh at times, and unswervingly honest, like most of the men from his generation. He was not afraid to yell at you when you were messing around, and he'd shake a finger (or an entire hand) at you in an instant. But that's not a side of him the preacher got to see. And it made me smile, because it's something we all do, but speaking from the missionary side of things, it's always weird to see people try and clean up their act for you.

What we need is a handy guide for whether or not you should clean up your act, and how much. OK then.

How to know how much of your act to clean up: a Handy Guide.

The Spelling Bee Level

To start with, we set the bar really low. When on the phone with a pastor planning to visit, just get them to spell a difficult word of your choice. Keep it within their field. For example, for a college minister, you might have them spell "sophomore" or "fraternity." Incidentally, if that pastor is named Ben Meredith, and reporting to Murfreesboro, TN after he raises his initial support, just have him spell "Murfreesboro," because that second "r" threw him for a loop for months. Other go-to words are "transcendental" or "sacramentalism." If they pass this level (and only this level) then all you are required to clean up is the overtly offensive at your house. Put away the Maxim/Cosmo/Oprah magazine and stash the Kodiak can behind the bookshelf, and you are good to go. If they don't pass this level, if they can't spell holy sounding words, you're OK. You don't have to clean up. They have no more of a connection to the transcendent than you do.

The "Half Your Age Plus 7″ (HYAPS) Level.

Normally used to determine whether or not someone is too young to date, we are using it to determine the next level of act-"cleanupage." If, for example, a person is 26 years old, half of their age (13) plus seven means that 20 is the youngest a person can be for them to be dateable. If a pastor is coming to your house, and falls above the HYAPS mark, then they're old enough to demand a fairly scrubbed clean of all sin house. Follow these simple steps: Deep six the Sports Illustrated magazine (due to their affiliation with a certain swimsuit issue), drink–but not immediately before–or hide the cheap beer (Coors Light and below), and find one or more Christian book for the living room bookshelf.

Passport Check Level

Before you have a pastor come in the house, ask for three forms of ID. If they are worth their salt, the first form of ID will be a driver's license, the second will be a passport, and the third will be a Social Security card. In case they reverse numbers two and three, always ask for three, so that you can inspect that passport, to see how many times that bad-boy has been stamped. If there are more than three non-Canadian countries stamped in the back, or if any stamp is in a non-Roman alphabet, they get the green light for the next level of act-cleansing. For this level, you have to ensure that at least a third of the bookshelf in the primary meeting room is devoted to Christian literature or JRR Tolkien/Fyodor Dostoyevsky. A bonus "we just got done reading this" book on the coffee table is recommended but not required.

Doctorate in Theology

In college, there was a stated (but I never saw it written) rule that related to how long you had to wait for a professor to show up who was late to a class. I think that if they had a PhD, you had to wait up to 15 minutes, or something like that. And this rule directly translates into the top level of the act-cleanup guide. If the person visiting has spent long enough in college and post-college college to learn three dead languages and part of a fourth, it's time to go full scale. Your house should look like the rooms at a Christian retreat center. You'll need to get rid of your TV, burn all of your non-Christian literature (it is also acceptable to put it in a section of the bookshelf clearly marked "Reference" or "In but not Of") and have all devotional literature cleaned, dusted, and appropriately highlighted. Alcohol is expressly prohibited at this level, as is non-Christian music paraphernalia. This unfortunately includes the ever-talented Derek Webb, as he uses non-Christian words in his music. (I've never heard them personally, but I know someone who knows someone that read about him on the Internets so, got to be true.) Note that folks at the Doctorate Level have free reign of your entire house, and can legally request access to any room, so simply moving the Lady Gaga life-size cutout to a different room is not going to cut it.

That should help, that list should provide you everything you need to have a pastor over.

Have you ever cleaned up your house (or your act) when the pastor came over?

(For more great stuff from Ben, check out his new blog, http://assumethebest.info)

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On Tuesday, November 30 I'll be on the radio with Dave Ramsey. I've never been on the show before but with over 450 stations across the country picking it up and millions of listeners, I'm already nervous/excited/kind of sweaty. (I'll post more details as I find them out.)

We'll be talking about my new book "Gazelles, Baby Steps and 37 Other Things Dave Ramsey Taught Me About Debt." It's a comedic look at money with some wild illustrations and I think it will be a blast to laugh about it on the radio. Dave wrote the forword and for a limited time you can get a free audio book and free e-book when you order the paperback for only $10.

Click here to order!

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Last night, when I came home from work, I sat down at our family computer. When I opened up Firefox, the page it was resting on had a very unexpected title. Here is what my wife had been looking at:

"Jalapeno Burn Treatment Tips"

I love my wife's cooking, but I want to be honest, that scared me a little about dinner. That was not the most awesome advertisement for what was about to go down on our dinner table. So I asked my wife what happened. Her response?

"I got jalapenos in my nose and it burned for a few hours. So I had to snort milk to make it feel better."

Oh, when you say it that way, that makes perfect sense. Snorting milk, sure, sure, who hasn't done a bump or a line of some 2% before? Of course! Silly me.

What I love about that whole situation is that we were having company over last night. Not old friends, new friends from work, and yet here was my wife, getting all fusion and experimental with hot peppers. I love it!

She's not afraid to mix it up and try something new, but I am. Especially when it comes to my quiet times.

I think we've retired that phrase, like the phrase "Sunday School," which is apparently reminiscent of some kind of Southern Baptist Torture Chamber. But I still say, "quiet time." I'm old school like that. And when I do a quiet time, I am wildly inflexible.

Here are the conditions that have to occur perfectly for me to feel like I've had a good quiet time:

1. Time of Day

As we've said before, God is a morning person and satan is a night owl. I can't do quiet times at night. I have to do them before work and before the rest of the world wakes up. 6:30AM? That's perfect. 7:05AM? Horrible, the day is almost over. I can't do a quiet time that late.

2. Materials

My quiet time regiment is pretty elaborate. I like to read the Bible. Then I journal a little. Then I read a book. Then I journal some more. Then I pray. Then I might listen to some music. There are approximately 27 steps in my plan and it's as complicated as disarming a bomb. If one step goes awry, if I cut the red wire instead of the blue write, it's over. I leave the book at home, goodbye quiet time.

3. Location

I used to do my quiet times in my car at work. I would sit in our old Camry for an hour while smokers at work stared at me as if I was some weird guy reading his Bible in the parking lot. Eventually I moved inside to my office. Now that we've moved to Nashville, I'm still looking for a good place to do my quiet times. Like a dog turning around in circles over and over again before it sits down, I'm slowly circling Nashville looking for a perfect spot.

4. No disruptions.

When I'm doing a quiet time, my family knows that I am like Superman in his fortress of solitude. Though my kids believe that the perfect time to ask 19 questions of their mother is when she is trying to take a nap, they generally leave me alone when I am doing a devotional.

5. Coffee

Remember in the Bible, when Peter and the gang were sitting on the shores of the Galilee around a campfire? They were all enjoying a cup of warm Judean Joe, just talking about life. Living it! Sipping some coffee and discussing about how to take something "from your head to your heart." What, that didn't happen? In my mind it did and that's why I have a hard time doing a quiet time without a coffee. I'm not even sure I could journal and drink diet Coke at the same time. Journals need coffee and so do quiet times. (Here's the SCL entry about coffee.)

If even one of these five factors is not perfectly executed, the quality of my quiet time goes down dramatically. The weird thing is that I'm pretty flexible in every other area of my life. I'll watch an entire movie on my iPhone, turning up the puny volume, squinting to see all the details on that tiny screen. I'll read other stuff anywhere. I'll read the back of a shampoo bottle in the middle of a shower just because I want something to look at. I'd sit in a garbage can if it meant I could get tickets to the Vanderbilt U2 show.

But quiet times? I'm wildly inflexible about those.

How about you? How do you do your devotional time?

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I'm not completely sure why there are killer whales in San Antonio. When you think about Orcas, and where you should be able to find them, chances are your first thought isn't, "Texas. We definitely have access to some killer whales in Texas." But when I visited recently, I realized that not only did they have a Sea World, they also had one of the most terrifying elevators ever.

Look at that thing, it's like stepping into the belly of the beast. (Please insert your own Jonah joke here.) Killer whales can travel 58mph. They can weigh 17,000 pounds and be 30 feet long. Scientists call them the most perfect killing machine ever created and they often eat great white sharks. For snacks. Let's put one on an elevator with a wry whale smile.

I saw that whale because I was in San Antonio to speak at a church. I've been traveling a lot lately and to tell you the truth, these have been some wonderfully weird three months. I've had some crazy opportunities throw at me out of nowhere. We wrote a new book. We've planned out the next three books. We've talked about a new blog. I've been in 6 states in 36 hours, bouncing about the country like a newly gifted with two separate eyebrows young man.

And in the midst of that, I find myself stretched. I'm out of my comfort zone. A sure sign of critical growth, I find myself in new territories, doing new things. And if there's one thing I don't want to say in the midst of all of this is, "I can't."

I want to crush each new opportunity that comes my way. I want to rise to the occasion. I want to always find the silver lining of any challenge. And I think that's how culture is wired these days.

Bosses tell us, "Don't bring me problems. Bring me solutions."

Coworkers tell us, "They're not challenges, they're opportunities."

Parents tell us, "Buck up, you made this mess, you can get out of it. Bootstrap it!"

Friends tell us, "Don't be so negative, you just need to pray more. You can do it."

We are a generation of "we can." We believe anything is possible. The sky is the limit. The phrase, "I can't," is weak. It's pessimistic. It's negative.

We must be positive! We look down on doubt. We challenge people who feel challenged. We question the faith of Christians who feel stuck or limited or maybe even lost in situations.

But some things are bigger than we have the ability to "positive think away."

I don't know if you can instantly silver lining away the pain of a divorce.

I don't know if you can turn a frown upside down when a teenage daughter emotionally or physically runs away from you.

I don't know if you can "the sun will come out tomorrow," a job loss that cost you not only your stature, but how you'll pay the rent next month.

And into those situations we add the idea of being "better." We start to hear a soundtrack that says, "If I were a better Christian, I wouldn't feel this way. If I were a better mom, I wouldn't have these issues with my kids. If I were a better accountant, I would get promoted and never have to worry about money."

There are a million ways to mad lib that idea, the "If I were a better ___________, I would _________."

We hear those statements and we don't want to admit we can't. We want a can do attitude. Something positive. But that's not really what we see in the Bible. That's not what we see exhibited by someone who had an impossibly difficult road.

Joseph, of fruit stripe gum colored coat fame, had a pretty difficult road. His brothers debated killing him. They sold him into slavery. He worked as a servant. He was wrongly accused of a crime he didn't commit and was thrown in jail. He stood on the precipice of escape after helping a fellow inmate only to have that person forget him. For years.

And when he returned to the edge of redemption, when he was brought from the depths of jail into Pharaoh's palace, we find 7 crazy words. We find 7 words we ourselves might not have said, given the circumstances.

Pharaoh has had a bad dream. (This is very different from singer Daniel Powter's "Bad Day.") No one can interpret it, but Pharaoh has heard great things about Joseph. In Genesis 41:15 he says to Joseph:

"I had a dream, and no one can interpret it. But I have heard it said of you that when you hear a dream you can interpret it."

This is a "yes we can!" situation if ever there was one. In a single sentence, Pharaoh said "you" three times. This is Joseph's moment! "I can do it! I can!" That's what Joseph should say. Essentially Pharaoh is asking him, "You've been in jail for years. Would you like to be free? Can you interpret this dream for me?"

And what is the first thing out of Joseph's mouth? What does he possibly say:

"I cannot do it,"

Oh no! Epic fail! Wrong answer. That's like saying that you still want to be in jail. But wait, he's not done. The full verse reads like this:

"I cannot do it," Joseph replied to Pharaoh, "but God will give Pharaoh the answer he desires."

I love that! "I cannot do it, but God will …"

I love that Joseph realized he was way outside of his abilities. I love that even if it cost him additional jail time, he was going to be honest and say those two words we think make us look so weak, "I can't."

We sometimes think we must be superheros for God. We sometimes drop the second half of Philippians 4:13 and instead just say, "I can do all things …" We sometimes want our Goliath moments without ever wrestling bears first. But that's not what we see in the Bible.

Joseph told Pharaoh, I can't but God can.

Moses told God flat out, "If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here."

David didn't show up to fight Goliath, he brought lunch. He didn't say, "I can," he said, "The Lord who delivered me from the paw of the lion and the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine."

We might not like to say it, but I think that as believers, we are the "people of I can't." But that's OK, because we serve the God who "can."

There will be challenges ahead. Dreams that are bigger than your talents. Giants taller than your abilities. Cliffs higher than your hopes. And as you survey them, don't worry. Don't fear. Don't tremble. But also, don't lose sight of the 7 words of Joseph:

"I cannot do it, but God will …"

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I never thought I'd see this bobble head.

But what can I say, the big box of awesome is getting, well, awesome. If you put together a shoebox with Operation Christmas Child and email a photo of it to this address [email protected] by November 21, you might win the big box of awesome. (Click here for more info) [image error]

There are a few things you need to know about the box. Actually 50 things.

Here's a list of the items I've already received for whoever creates the most creative shoebox for Operation Christmas Child (If you have something you want in the box, email me!)

1. Autographed copy of Stuff Christians Like

2. Autographed copy of my new book, "Gazelles, Baby Steps And 37 Other Things Dave Ramsey Taught Me About Debt"

3. Autographed copy of Total Money Makeover by Dave Ramsey

4. Autographed copy of Financial Peace by Dave Ramsey

5. John Calvin Bobblehead from Calvin College.

6. Sun Stand Still by Steven Furtick

7. Radical by David Platt

8. 3 copies of Heaven is for Real by Todd Burpo

9. 2 Columbia Fleece Pullovers from Winshape and Chick-fil-A

10. 10 copies of the Radical mini book.

11. The Medicine CD by John Mark McMillan

12. Real Life CD by Lincoln Brewster

13. Love God. Love People CD by Israel Houghton

14. Ragamuffin Soul CD by Carlos Whittaker

15. We Still Believe CD by Kathryn Scott

16. 2 Amelia's Gift CDs by Madeline Robison

17. 2 Complicated CDs by Dane and Taylor

18. Churched by Matthew Paul Turner

19. Primal book and DVD by Mark Batterson

20. Holy Bible: Mosaic NLT Bible from Tyndale

21. Soul Print by Mark Batterson

22. Under the Overpass by Mike Yankoski

23. The Walk by Shaun Alexander

24. 2 copies of Mustard Seed Thoughtsby Ron Edmonson

25. Eat Mor Chikin by Truett Cathy

26. Holy Vocabulary by Michael Kelley

27. Living in the Overlap by Steve Schaeffer

28. Autographed copy of It's better to build boys than mend men by Truett Cathy

29. Winshape Camps, a History in the Making book

30. Samaritan's Race T-shirt

31. 2 Arena Nalgene bottles

32. Avant Ministries t-shirt

33. Casual Christian Wear t-shirt

34. 2 Chick-fil-A stuffed cows

35. Fighter Verses CD

36. The Princess and the Pigs by Kade Grayson

37. Unraveled CD by Erin Woods

38. Launching Missional Communities by Mike Breen & Alex Absalom

39. Chick-fil-A Pez dispenser

40. Winshape Notebook

41. There is No Time book by J. Paul Nyquist

42. Get the Prize book by Larry Hehn

43. Arena Notebook

44. Beta Version T-shirt

45. An award winning photo from Michelle Palmer

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Weird things happen to me when I fly. If you followed me on Twitter you would know this because I tend to have "tweet explosions," when I'm at airports.

Last Sunday morning, as our plane lifted off the ground, the person behind me started to play what sounded like a pan flute. Just as we began to soar above the clouds, we were greeted with a Zamfir melody from what I can only assume was some sort of satyr. In his defense, the flight attendant did not say, "Please return your seats to their upright position, carefully stow your carry on luggage and put your pan flute back in its elk skin satchel." He had every right to play that beautiful wooden instrument and play he did.

At another airport I went to, a humongous bodybuilder spent his time in the terminal doing ferocious push ups right beside me. I tweeted about it and folks told me to prove it with a photo. Not likely. One of my rules for twitter is never snap photos of people who can snap you. And this guy could have broken me in half like a thin blogger branch.

But in all the responses from people asking me questions about the terminal B2 bodybuilder, one stuck out. It was different than the rest, but is something I am growing familiar with.

I call it the "Jesus Juke."

Like a football player juking you at the last second and going a different direction, the Jesus Juke is when someone takes what is clearly a joke filled conversation and completely reverses direction into something serious and holy.

In this particular case, when I tweeted a joke about the guy doing pushups, someone tweeted me back, "Imagine If we were that dedicated in our faith, family, and finances?"

I was fine with that idea, I was, but it was a Jesus Juke. We went from, "Whoa, there's a mountain of a man doing pushups next to the Starbucks at the airport," to a serious statement about the lack of discipline we have in our faith and our family and our finances.

I don't know how to spell it, but in my head I heard that sad trumpet sound of "whaaaa, waaaa."

And that wasn't even a bad Jesus Juke. I didn't mind that statement at all. That guy seemed fine. I've heard much worse. I once tweeted about going to see Conan O'Brien live and how big the crowd was. Someone wrote back, "If we held a concert for Jesus and gave away free tickets, no one would come." Whaaa, waaaa.

Chances are you've experienced this. Someone pulled the Christian version of the Debbie Downer, they threw out a bit of Jesus Juke on you. If you have, or even if you haven't, there are three things we all need to know about this particular move.

1. It generates shame.

The Jesus Juke is a great way to tell a friend, "I wish you possessed the uber holiness I do and were instead talking about sweet baby Jesus in this conversation." It's like a tiny little "shame grenade," you throw it into an otherwise harmless conversation and then watch it splatter everyone in guilt and condemnation.

2. It never leads to good conversation.

I've been Jesus Juked dozens of times in my life and I've never once seen it lead to a productive, healthy conversation. You might think it will before you juke, but what usually happens is just raw amounts of awkwardness, similar to how I felt sitting in a theater watching the Last Airbender.

3. I've never met someone who was "juked to Jesus."

I once tweeted, "No one's ever said: 'The way you bitterly mock other Christians helped me begin a life-changing love of Jesus' (Be kind)." I wrote that because I wanted to remind us that our jerkiness never led folks to Christ. I don't think our jukes do either. I don't really see it as a conversion technique. It's more of a conversation killer technique.

I hope we all keep talking about Jesus. I hope we talk about him lots and lots. I hope he defines our life and conversations. But if I tell you that when it comes to My Little Pony, I tend to prefer Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie and that Toola Roola has been riding their coattails for years, please don't respond, "You know who created ponies? Our Lord God did, that's who."

Has anyone ever pulled a "Jesus Juke" on you?

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