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Finally, a church knows how to pray.

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Well done church.

Photo via 9gag.

Photo via 9gag.

Of the many problems our feet will face, lego is the worst. (Is it lego or legos? What’s the plural of lego? Legi? Legon? Kenny Loggins? I feel like this is turning into a Brian Regan routine. Can we get a ruling on that one?)

I personally don’t need that prayer. I never step barefoot on legos. I step on them, all the time, but now that we live in Nashville I wear cowboy boots. Non stop. I don’t take them off. In the shower, in the pool, in our house, you can take my cowboy boots when you pry them from my cold, sweaty feet. (Even in death I will probably find a way to be too sweaty.)

I’m like a foot version of Tobias, in Arrested Development. I’m not a never nude, I’m a “never de-shoed.” We have rights you know. And lefts, both are covered in boots.

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3 reasons we need Vuvuzelas in church.

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Every four years, when the World Cup rolls around I think about 3 things:

1. I wish our country had a sport that united the whole country like the intensity you see when France played Italy in the finals.

2. Didn’t I once write a post about the World Cup?

3. I want to, want to be crazy about the World Cup.

I don’t know if that first idea is fixable. I think because of the size of our country we divide into small mini countries or as some people might call them, “states.” I think Alabama vs. Auburn or Duke vs. UNC might be as close as we get to two nations fighting each other in sports. (Please post your school’s rivalry in the comments below as I am positive I missed at least 47 other good examples.)

To the second idea, the answer is “yes.” I did write about vuvuzelas, which is why I’m updating that classic post as we speak.

And the third idea? Well for the first time in my life, I have to admit, the World Cup is fantastic!

 

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My only problem with the KJV.

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This is a weird bumper sticker to me.

photo-81

Maybe you’ve seen one like it before. You’re stuck in traffic, look up for a split second from you iPhone and this question dances across your field of vision.

You forget that the origin of this is decades old. We have dairy cows to blame for all the variations of “Got ____,” for it was they who first asked if we “Got milk?” Some of us did. Real milk, not that pale white water skim either. The kind of milk an Oreo could float on. A real Oreo too, not a fruit punch or watermelon version. I feel we are flying too close to the sun on cream wings right now with all the iterations of Oreo we’re cranking out.

But milk started the “Got revolution” and years later it rages on in highways and byways across the nation.

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A response to the “Are you following Jesus this close” bumper sticker.

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I often see the bumper sticker that reads “Are you following Jesus this close?”

bumper sticker

Photo via Kulfoto.

My first thought is that somewhere my wife Jenny is dying because it’s supposed to read, “Are you following Jesus this closely?” Jenny is full of grace and love, but has a difficult time extending that to grammar mistakes. (Pray for her please.)

I am willing to overlook the missing ly, but my second thought upon seeing this sticker is usually this:

Actually, I am following Jesus this close. In fact he lives in my heart, so I’m completely baffled by the proposition of your bumper sticker. Is this like that scene in Austin Powers when the Scottish character says ‘Get in my belly!’ (Keeping it relevant.) Are you asking me to get in your heart? I have to imagine you mean lyrically, much in the same way Bobby Brown’s song “Tender Roni,” gets in your heart and refuses to leave. (Two for two on topical!)

If it’s not that, which I suppose it must not be, what are you saying to me?

Is this some sort of weird invitation to live in the backseat of your car? I went to college. I’ve slept in cars before. That is no treat my friend. I have to refuse kindly.

What option does that really leave us? Trunks are pretty uncomfortable as well and dangerous. If that’s what you’re suggesting, that I climb in your car trunk, I fear we’re once again at odds. I don’t want to get in your car trunk and you would prefer that I do. Let’s agree to disagree.

Or perhaps it’s just the opposite, you actually want me to back away from you in traffic and tail gait Jesus instead. Is he commuting today? Are you intimating that should I but crane my neck I might notice him in the right hand lane, driving, what I can only imagine is a burro, and I should follow him instead? But that’s unlikely, because once you’ve ascended there’s no way you’re driving on the Interstate again. You think Elijah or sah, whichever one got the fire chariot ride, is ever getting in a car after that? You can’t Sorento after you’ve fire chariotted.

It’s all rather perplexing.

Perhaps if I follow closely for a few more miles, this riddle will solve itself. Feel free to do what I do when someone is tail gaiting me, drive slower. I’m almost positive that tail gaiting is a silent cry from the people behind you to slow down. But don’t quote me on that. I might be misinterpreting that. I’m not following Jesus that closely.

Question:
Have you ever seen this bumper sticker?

Joking about sex during weddings.

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Waffle

It’s almost wedding season, or as I like to call it, “Waffle maker season.” I’m not pretty sure they don’t let you buy one of those unless you’re attending a wedding. Nothing says eternal love like a waffle. (I bet the pancake industry hates weddings. The pancake people and waffle people are probably like the Biggie and Tupac of breakfast pastries.)

That’s a photo of the waffle maker Jenny and I used to own. I say “used to” because when I posted it online and someone saw how hard we’d waffled over the years they mailed us a brand new one. Pretty sure I’m posting a photo of our car next. I digress

Every time, wedding season rolls around it reminds me of a post I wrote years ago. A post that I fear we might need now more than ever. A post that started with this bold statement,

Fine, I’ll say it: We Christians need to agree to a one sex joke maximum during our wedding ceremonies.

Seriously, let’s make that happen today.

I don’t know where this started, but I’d like to be part of the solution to stopping it even though it is a very uniquely Christian thing to do. Think about it, if the couple getting married already had sex then what they’re going to do on their honeymoon night might be very similar to what they might have done last Tuesday night. Big deal. There’s no point in joking about it. It would be like joking about me being awesome at breakdancing. Everyone already knows I do that all the time, so it wouldn’t be funny. But if you’ve got two virgins up on stage I fear that’s a joke opportunity that an increasing number of young ministers are unable to resist.

For example, I was at a beautiful wedding last winter and one of the people officiating the ceremony made about half a dozen sex jokes. The young couple squirmed and blushed while the crowd laughed nervously. The first joke was funny and appropriate. I mean if you’re doing a Christian wedding then theoretically joking about sex should kill in that setting. They’ve never had sex before and by talking about it you get to shock the crowd in a fun way. And so I welcomed the first joke and felt relieved that we had gotten that subject out of the way. In my head I thought, “Great, let’s move on to the unity candle, perhaps a three stranded ribbon that represents the man, the woman and God and then eat some cake.”

But this guy kept working the room blue. From “good lovin’” to “what you’re going to do later,” he was unstoppable. By the sixth sex joke I wanted to stand up in the aisle and shout, “We get it, they’re going to do it! Everyone, these two people right here are going to have sex!”

I didn’t though because my wife was there and she really hates when I yell things in the middle of weddings. But maybe today you and I can agree to a one sex joke maximum at Christian weddings.

Let’s change the world together.

We can do it.

I believe in us.

I do.

We built this city on rock and roll.

 
 

Smells like (Bible) spirit. 7 Christian Candles!

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Candle

(It’s guest post Friday! Today’s post is from Meghan Mellinger. If you’d like to write a guest post, click here.)

Recently, Kentucky Fried Chicken released a candle that smelled like, you guessed it, chicken. It sounds ridiculous, but it sold out in minutes! Given that waxy, olfactory success I decided to create a whole line of biblically themed scented candles.
Forget deep fried chicken or the smell of pickles wafting through your living room; why not light up these candles to get into the spiritually scented spirit:
From the “Escape from Egypt” Collection:

1. The Ten Plagues
A touch of gnat, a dash of frog, and a hint of blood, this blend of aromas is a must for any Old Testament study. Made with real locusts!

2. Pillars Pillar
Made with special patented technology, this pillar candle smells like smoke during the day and fire at night. It’s like two candles for the price of one!

3. Manna Madness
Think the “French Baguette” candle from Bath and Body Works smells like the real deal? Well you’ll be praying for bread to drop out of the sky after you light this candle up!

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Thinking your kids got raptured.

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My brother-in-law Justin recently stayed with us for a few weeks while he finalized a move to Nashville. (Everybody is doing it, even Justin Timberlake from what I hear. If Nashville gets an ocean coast it’s game over for every other city in America. Also, North Carolina is in a lot of trouble if that happens now that I think about it.)

One night, Justin (brother-in-law not Timberlake) noticed a pile of clothes from one of our kids on the floor that looked like this.

clothes

Realizing that most people, particularly good parents, don’t store piles of clothing on random floors, I quickly reassured him that we were not messy people. (Even though that collection of socks, shirt and shorts kind of looks like a starfish.)

I told him, “That’s not just a pile of clothes, that’s the rapture.”

After quietly running the math of paying for a hotel versus staying with people who are not pre-trib but apparently “post-socks”, he asked, “What do you mean the rapture?”

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Not knowing if you should pray before appetizers.

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I write a lot about queso.

That’s probably not a sentence Hemingway ever typed but whatever, this is my life. He made his own decisions as an author. These are mine.

I could certainly write volumes about the many positive aspects of queso but I do have one problem with it. I’m never sure if I am supposed to pray before I eat it at a restaurant.

In fact, I’m not sure if you’re supposed to pray before the appetizer or before the entrée. It seems like everyone approaches it a little differently, so here are some rules we might all be able to agree on.

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The unsubscribe of shame.

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(It’s guest post Friday! Today’s post is from Christy Newton. If you’d like to write a guest post, click here.)

Unsubscribe

Something has been strongly weighing on my heart. I need to confess it, but I’m scared I’m the only one struggling with this. I’m being vulnerable, so here we are:

I’ve let so many unread daily devotionals rack up in my email, you’d think I’d been raptured. These devos have been in the form of blog posts & just plain website databases who thought I could handle three or eight different devos a day. One subscription goes through the whole bible in a year, another is for godly women, another is a pastor back home with sweet tattoos & coiffed hair who writes a lot about millennials & the book of James. There are posts from scientists at creation institutes that blow my mind slash encourage me every time I read them, as well as emails from a blog written by a dude who *just* knows how to get deep about God.

It all typically goes the same way:

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My new favorite version of “How He Loves.”

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Last weekend I got to do an event with an awesome organization called R.U.S.H Ministries. What Marc Pritchett and his team are doing for students just blew me away. During the event, I met George Dennehy. George was born with bilateral upper limb deficieny in Romania. He mentioned from stage that in his home country, being born without arms or hands is considered a curse. His family put him in an orphanage.

George

An American family adopted him and over the years he’s learned to share his story via music. (You should follow him on twitter! His account is @ThatArmlessGuy)

After sharing his story, he played the song “How he loves” and it was amazing. I took a few short video clips of the song.  It’s hard to capture the moment with these, but hopefully you’ll see a little bit of what I saw when George sang about the depth of God’s love for us.

George Part 1

George Part 2

George Part 3