Who are you kidding?

Caillou is afraid to go into his driveway. There’s no way he’s going into space.

One day, in a 1920s cabin next to a train track and Normal Rockwell houses, my friend Al Andrews asked me a question.

Al runs a non-profit called “Porter’s Call” in Franklin, Tennessee. About ten years ago, he recognized that a lot of the clients who came to his counseling practice were musicians. Some of them were in desperate need of a safe place to restore their stories, but they couldn’t afford traditional counseling. Others were selling tens of millions of records and needed a place where they could be themselves, not the idea or image of themselves that everyone sees on the Grammys.

So Al met with the record labels in Nashville and told them, “Look, you’re spending millions of dollars creating these superstar musicians. You’re surrounding them with musical talent, stylists, designers and support staff. But then their lives fall apart in the process. What if you sponsored Porter’s Call, and it became a place where musicians and musician’s families could receive free counseling?”

The labels loved the idea and, for the last decade, Al has been creating a safe haven for artists. It’s an amazing bit of geography in a city that otherwise tends to grind musicians up.

My dad went to college with Al, so he lets me slide around the “Must be a musician on a record label to go to Porter’s Call” rule. One afternoon, Al asked me:

“What do your voices tell you?”

I thought that was kind of a crazy question and considered answering it with counseling jargon I’ve learned in the last few years:

“My parents didn’t hug me enough.”

“I’d like to learn how to do some reflective listening.”

“Can we spend this session unpacking some of my father wounds?”

I decided to answer his question with a question of my own, so I asked Al what he meant.

Keep Reading —›

I’ve got a new book coming out on Monday, April 22. (The trailer is below.)

For the next 6 days, you can get the ebook version for free when you pre-order.

Got a Kindle? Awesome.

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If you pre-order, you’ll get the book for free.

Just fill out this form after you order.

Click here to buy on Amazon.

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I have so many questions for this guy, Jeff Kinley:

1. Is this a book about killing Christian zombies?

2. If yes, are these Christians who became zombies or zombies that then became Christians?

3. If the latter, how hard is that mission field? You get called as a missionary to the zombie community. Rough.

4. Or is this a book about killing regular zombies in a Christian fashion?

5. If yes, what’s the most Christian way to kill a zombie? I’m almost positive holy water doesn’t do anything.

6. How many of these zombies are former elders? (My dad is a pastor, and I swear he’s worked with some Christian zombies before.)

7. Or is this book about how we should all be dead to our sin and act like “Christian zombies?”

Those are my questions. Now that you’ve seen this book, what are your questions?

This is a silly photo. But I can appreciate one thing; They left out Hawkeye and the Black Widow in this photo. Which is how I believe Jesus himself would have wanted it.

Hawkeye’s not that bad. But, as I’ve said before, the idea of pairing a pistol-carrying superhero next to a Norse god and a radiation-generated super monster is ludicrous. “What’s that you say? Alien horde threatening to take over the planet? Don’t worry, I have six bullets in my gun. We’ll be fine.”

Who knew that all along Jesus was an Avenger?

A Jesus Juke is a phrase I came up with to describe that moment when you’re talking about something normal and someone tries to juke in some Jesus out of nowhere. The first one recorded in history is when I saw a guy next to me at the airport doing pushups in the terminal and someone said, “Don’t you wish we were all this disciplined with our Bible reading.”

Since then, I’ve seen hundreds. When folks say they are excited about the Super Bowl, we Christians say, “Don’t you wish people were as excited about church on Sunday?” As if it’s impossible to both enjoy football and Jesus in the same life.

I thought I had seen every Juke possible … until I checked my email.

This is a page of a bulletin, in which someone essentially says, “You don’t have to attend choir practice, but then Jesus didn’t have to die on the cross for us either, did he?” The idea of comparing choir practice to Christ dying on the cross for us is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.

This isn’t the typical Serious Wednesday where I inevitably write about the Prodigal Son story. Let’s be honest, I’ve written about that a million times, but this really is serious. You and I need to be the generation to completely end the practice of Jesus Jukes. We can be the change. I know we can!

I believe in us.

McDonald’s paints this on their windows.

I’m almost positive that jogging was what St. Francis was talking about when he said the below statement. This is ultimately a statement about working your core. Like a boss.

In fact, those are his legs. Lot of people don’t know how good of shape that dude was in. Like the wind. They called him “the Assisi Gazelle.”

He had a gospel-based running club called “God on sod.” They ran and shouted the Old Testament at people they passed.

And now you know the rest of the story.