That means this blog, my e-mail account, and my social media accounts will be quite silent. We may run into an internet cafe and check in from time to time, but don’t expect much from me until the end of June. If you have an urgent message, check out www.edcyz.com for my e-mail address or contact form. I’ll check that before anything else.

If you want to learn more about a typical post here, scroll down for a list of the most popular posts. You can also sign up for e-mail updates at the top of the center column so you don’t miss a thing when I return. I also have a monthly e-mail newsletter that will go out a bit late in June.

Thanks for dropping by. I pray that this time off will lead to some great posts and conversations when I return.

To read some great blogs in my absence, check out:

www.halfwaytonormal.com

http://www.chadestes.com

http://takingtheyoke.blogspot.com

www.missional.ca

http://evancurry.com

http://makeesha.com

http://godspace.wordpress.com

I was feeling that way last week. In fact, I was aggravated about a couple of things that seemed to be piling up all at once.

I was tempted to post a passive aggressive status update. Of course we all know that such things are not constructive, may offend others, and may leave us worse off than before. I thought that I needed a passive aggressive pass…

So I figured, well… Why not? It could be a handy way to confess I’m not in the best state, while still allowing me to post “something.” I wouldn’t be bottled up, but I wouldn’t be venting anything harmful.

Perfect.

I know you probably are all jealous and stuff, but don’t worry. Before you’re tempted to post your own passive aggressive message about my awesome idea, you too can download the pass or link to it. Enjoy!

And so can you.

After my thorough twenty minute study of the card section of our local store, I realized that there’s a certain formula to the typical Valentine’s Day card. The clip art, photos, and background may vary, but most cards will include a number of key ingredients—that is, most cards they try to sell you for $3. This has nothing to do with quality mind you.

As a writer I’d like to lend my talents to all of the men out there who are sweating out finding the Valentine’s Day card. Will you find the right card for your wife? Now you don’t have to. I have it all laid out for you.

If you’re still too intimidated, I created a generic card that utilizes all of the “top practices” of the greeting card industry. It’s a totally free AND totally awesome download that you can print out and sign in seconds while expressing all of the best sentiments of Valentine’s Day cards.

How to create an awesome Valentine’s Day card for your wife…

Step One

On page one make a list of your flaws. Keep in mind, this is a list of suggestions… I’m not indicting myself here! Well, OK, I do break the plumbing way too often, but I can explain…

• I watch too much TV.
• I don’t pick up my clothes.
• I break plumbing when trying to fix it.
• I never say nice things to my wife.
• I have poor hygiene.

Step Two

On page two list the reasons why you appreciate your wife.

• She’s patient and understanding.
• She picks up after me.
• She has good hygiene.

Step Three

On page 3 tell her how you feel.

• I’m so lucky you married a loser like me.
• I’m incomplete without you, like a taco without cheese.
• I can’t imagine living without you… Really, I’d probably die.
• Happy Valentine’s Day… or something like that.

Step Four

Use a nice font like Edwardian Script.

Step Five

Print it out and sign it.

Not sure you can hack it? Then download my awesome card FOR FREE!!!

This will also explain why we now live in Connecticut.

About two years ago a friend of ours encouraged us to pursue graduate school for my wife Julie. We’d been talking about it for years, but we kept assuming that we should put it off. After a lot of thinking, planning, and testing, we decided to give it a shot. Last April Julie was accepted at the University of Connecticut to begin working her way toward a PhD in English Lit.

Consequently, we had to sell our house in Vermont, she had a lot of preparation to do, we had to find a place near Storrs, CT, and I needed to figure out a job. Over the following months we sensed that I should try writing and speaking full time, which meant we really needed an affordable place to live in Connecticut and to live on a tight budget. We also needed to downsize significantly by giving away or selling a lot of stuff.

When we decided to give grad school a try back in 2007, I began watching the real estate market very closely, planning to sell our house myself. How hard could it be in a small, fairly stable market such as Vermont? That was lesson one. There are times to save money and to be a do-it-yourself person, but not when your family’s financial future is hanging in the balance.

Over the three months I tried to sell our house myself I was not only humbled, but felt that I’d been foolish in putting us into a tight financial spot. I also put my own prospects of launching a freelance writing and speaking ministry in jeopardy. All of this was humbling for me beyond words.

The next blow came on the first day or our family vacation in late July just after leaving my day job. My next book deal fell to pieces in a matter of days. The publisher had changed directions significantly and we could no longer agree on the direction or details of the book after I had completed the first draft. So as I was launching my “freelance writing career,” one of the major sources of my pride, income, and security disappeared.

By the end of July, Julie and I wrapped up our jobs in Vermont, meaning our income suddenly stopped. We also signed on with a realtor. In early August we had to move to our apartment in Connecticut, meaning that we would soon have a rent and a mortgage to pay. The house needed to sell, and soon.

During the month of August we learned that a lot of people were looking at our house, but no offers were made despite the work of our incredible real estate agent. By early September I began to panic. We really needed an offer on the house. I knew we had priced it right, and the sheer number of viewings was evidence enough of that. Over Labor Day weekend I began to crack.

On the trip home from meeting family I prayed intensely over the sale of our house. “God, we need you to sell this house.”  While driving on a dark country road in Connecticut (yes, we have them here), God spoke in an almost audible voice, “Do you want me, or do you want me to solve your problems?”

I had to be honest. I wanted God to sell the house. I didn’t want God or to seek his Kingdom first. On the following day I struggled to write and ended up fretting about the house and our finances. Reminded of God’s word the previous evening, I left my desk and kneeled in the other room resolving just to worship God. After a few minutes of this, I remembered we had not one, but two reserves of money that I’d completely forgotten.

That gave us some breathing room. I’d never felt so cared for by God over the following month. Two weeks later we received an offer on the house and negotiated a price that I think was fair for both parties. The same buyers closed on the house yesterday. We are now free from that hefty mortgage payment.

We could have stuck it out longer, but back in June I picked the latest date I’d want to wait to sell the house: early November.

The process of selling our house has been trying, with lots of uncertainty. It hasn’t been easy. However, the lesson I learned that evening in September has stuck with me. Do I want God or for God to solve my problems? This has felt like boot camp in seeking first God’s Kingdom.

It has also helped me to see God’s provision in every detail of our lives here in Connecticut. Every accepted article, every friendship we make, and every wonderful place to hike is a blessing from God. We wouldn’t have ended up here without God’s provision at key moments.

I wish I had a pithy way to sum this crazy experience up. I feel like we were trying to figure out where God wanted us to go and to obey that leading. Following God’s lead has not be comfortable or easy, but it has been rewarding. I have experienced intimacy with God on a new level, have seen sin in my own heart challenged, and have learned to hold loosely to home, money, and status.

Everything really is on the table, but if we lose any or all of it, it is far more precious to have intimacy with God. I’m still digging deeper into the mystery of seeking first God’s Kingdom. It’s not an easy thing to do. However, as we pass through these trials and terrifying times we will find abundant life and joy in God and his provision.

We had blue skies, rushing water, and ample breeze to make it a glorious afternoon. We packed all manner of chips and candy in the canoe for a mid-way pull-off on a sunny beach or pile of pebbles in a convenient location.

The current shot us along, but overall, things plugged along swimmingly. About 30 minutes into the trip we came upon a party of about 20 teenagers who I hope were at least college age. They seemed to be having a good time, only they called out to us that we may find some bobbing beer cans downstream.

Someone had the bright idea of chilling the beer in the water.

Ha, ha. I thought. Silly teenagers.

We got a kick out of that. Then, about 20 minutes later my mother-in-law is spinning the canoe around to spy on some suspicious objects in the bushes along the side of the river. My father-in-law had to paddle really hard to make this happen. I couldn’t believe she went through so much trouble to pick up trash, but soon realized she had zeroed in on beer cans.

Seven to be exact. She found an apple too. The beer consisted of a smattering of brands, including one 24 oz Coors Light. As I bobbed around waiting, I managed to snag a can out of the river as well.

This find made us extra vigilant for anything metallic in the water. Soon I nabbed a beer can off a rock by sweeping around it, digging hard upstream, and eventually taking shelter behind the rock to pull in the can.

By the time we stopped for our snack we had eleven beer cans.

Our little rocky bit of land happened to be along a narrow stretch of river where the current picked up a great deal. While enjoying our lunch we noticed a lady in a kayak rocketing through the current. She tried to grab onto a tree hanging over the stream to wait for her husband—whom we later heard had capsized just moments before.

Hanging on to a tree in a strong, swift current is a bad idea. Trust me. She flipped over while trying to hang on to the tree. She managed to hold on to her paddle and kayak while floating down the current.

Now it seemed that she should have just floated down to a calm area and all would have been well, but instead she tried to get into her kayak. And as if demonstrating for me, onlooking kayak novice who knows next to nothing, she promptly half-sank her kayak by trying to get into it.

By this time I ran down to the bank, but she couldn’t swim over to me. Julie and her dad ran down stream and swam/walked out into a pretty swift current to pull her in and get her settled upright again.

It wasn’t a rescue in the face of death or danger, but it was certainly a rescue in the face of unpleasantness. It was a swift current that could have made a wayward kayak tough to handle. We watched her water bottle and her husband’s water bottle zip downstream from us. Soon she and her rather wet husband paddled away while we finished up our lunch

With our soaked rescuers and stash of beer cans, we eventually paddled on to the Georgi in Cambridge, NY. Upon arriving we found one of the couple’s water bottles on the rocks.

And so we not only enjoyed awesome weather in a fantastic river, we also fished out of the river eleven cans of beer, one apple, one kayaker, and one water bottle.

Not bad for a Sunday afternoon.

On the other hand, there is ambition. I’ve been seeing ambition as the virus that infects an otherwise good passion or calling. Ambition twists passion and calling into a vehicle to accomplish larger goals that may run these beautiful things into the ground.

We could take a writer for example—you know, just off the top of my head—who wants to write because he’s passionate about it, and even feels that writing is his calling. However, ambition could step in and wreck it all. Ambition could drive this writer to aim to become the greatest writer in his field, negating any enjoyment of his accomplishments and turning his passion into a machine that must only accomplish the goals dictated by ambition.

Ambition kills a passion in the end, even if it promises to bring fulfillment and success.

This is all stuff I’m processing right now. It’s not quite crystallized in my mind. However, does any of this ring true?

The story centers on a man named Zack, who once read a best selling theology book in a coffee shop that was so poorly written, he could never visit a coffee shop or even put coffee to his lips ever again. He calls that experience: THE GREAT FADNESS. While stepping outside into the warm, cheerful rays of sun that beamed across the country landscape brimming with reflecting brilliance and yellow hues that warmed his soul and spoke of bright, cheerful days that once filled him before he read THE GREAT FADNESS, Zack found a note in his mailbox. It read,

“Meet me at the coffee shack this weekend. – Masculine Reformed Deity”

Zack didn’t know what to make of this note that he read while the suns rays slipped behind a passing cloud casting a cool shadow that sent a chill over his body and cast a darkness where there once had been warm rays of sunshine, which symbolized the sorrow he felt after reading THE GREAT FADNESS. In the passing days, he summoned his courage and visited the coffee shack.

It was a quiet morning, and so Zack settled into a back room with a cup of French roast, his favorite coffee before THE GREAT FADNESS. He stared at the coffee, trying to decide if he should take a sip when a boom from the front of the cafe startled him.

A huge, hulking Calvinist of a man swaggered in, stomping his feet and clenching his fists. Steam radiated from his flaring nostrils. Pointing a finger at Zack, he boomed, “I hear you’ve been reading trashy theology books that teach relativism and turn me into a modalistic sky fairy!”

“Are you the… the… Masculine Reformed Deity?” asked Zack, his hands trembling.

The man tossed Zack’s table aside, picked him up, and pressed him against the wall. “What do you think punk?”

“Ye-Yes…” said Zack. “Are you going to beat me up?”

“Do you think you could take me?” boomed the deity. “Do you really think I’m some kind of sissy who’s going to take the relativistic crap you’ve been reading about me?”

“No,” replied Zack. “You could definitely beat me up.”

The deity’s shoulders relaxed and Zack sank into his chair. When Zack looked up, the deity was standing behind a pulpit and launched into a booming sermon.

“You can’t read theology books that ride the wave of cultural fads!” he yelled. “These books that encase bad theology with fancy little stories about dudes who think God is also a woman or that God permits women to be pastors…”

“Well I read a book called Coffeehouse Theology that said something like that once…” started Zack.

“That’s heresy! Heresy!” boomed the Masculine Reformed Deity.

Zack wasn’t prepared for what happened next…

And that’s all we have time for today! Stay tuned for the release of Coffeeshack Theology on April 1st, 2010.

HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DAY!

On the following evening Julie and I planned to go out for a celebratory dinner at a local restaurant run by a group that I would say is akin to hippies—all-natural everything, quasi-new age, and generally very good food. I opted for the high-priced special and split an incredible fruit plate with Julie for dessert.

Oh, I also drank some “all-natural” apple cider.

We came home, fed the rabbits, and played a game before going to bed. With Malcolm Gladwell’s latest book Outliers capturing my attention, I stayed up perhaps a little later than I would have intended, but without a book to work on in the morning, during lunch breaks, and in the evening, I didn’t mind too much. All the same, my mind was spinning with ideas, and falling asleep didn’t seem like it was going to happen.

So I got up and wrote for an hour until I felt sleepy enough to give unconsciousness a go. A short while after laying down, something started to feel a bit strange in my gut.

Pain, intense pain of the kind I last experienced with raw apple cider vinegar had me doubled over for the next few hours. By 2 AM, it transferred to my stomach. Thus began a very, very long evening. I’ll spare the details. I didn’t fall asleep until 7:30 AM, and I needed to leave for work at 9:00 AM. Suffice it to say, I’ve been in an odd state all week.

This has ruined any hope of blogging this week, as I try to catch up on sleep in the mornings, crash really hard in the afternoons, and generally begin to zonk out around 7 PM. After a 2-hour hike yesterday I spent the entire evening on the couch, hardly moving save to turn the page of my book or to pet a rabbit.

After a weekend with some rest, I feel a bit more like myself and hope to get back into the morning blog routine that I love so much. I also owe my readers a newsletter very, very soon.

You can be sure that I will be avoiding all manner of apple cider products for the foreseeable future.

Anyhow, I won’t violate my rule in any way. I’ll only say that I spent most of  Monday curled up in the fetal position and felt a bit off on Tuesday. Why? Two tablespoons of Raw Organic Apple Cider Vinegar mixed with honey.

ROACV is a natural health remedy that’s supposed to cure lots of ailments, improve bones, and clear arteries. The truth? It has different effects depending on the person. Some say it’s all hog wash. I say it just hurts your stomach like hell.

I don’t know what it would feel like to have acid eating away at my stomach, but I can’t imagine it being much worse. I had chills and a level of discomfort that made sitting at my computer, so I can meet that looming March 1st deadline, impossible. (If my editor is reading this, no worries man. I’m still gonna make it!).

Try ROACV if you think you can handle it. Julie has been on the regime for 3 days and is doing fine.

His consternation is shared by many in the sporting world. Philadelphia fans have this seemingly high standard for their teams that is rarely met. If left unsatisfied, they resort to booing their home team. The reaction of many is something like, “How could you boo your home town team?”

How could we? Let a life-long Philadelphia sports fan tell you, and perhaps I’ll even convince you to boo your own team in the process.

Remember, we’re talking about professional athletes here. If Philly fans booed their little league teams or even their high school and college teams the way they booed the pros, then we’d have a real problem. But keep in mind most Philly fans have no use for sentimental “home team” fluff. Sure we have a certain element of loyalty. During championship droughts and losing seasons every team in Philly has sustained a solid fan base.

However, Philly fans realize that professional sports is just another entertainment industry. If the product is bad, you don’t settle for it. So if you don’t like a restaurant, you never return. If you don’t like a movie, you walk out. If you don’t like a team’s play, you boo them.

We’re talking about millions of dollars changing hands here. And while professional athletes no doubt work hard and make tremendous sacrifices, fans are getting fleeced in paying for tickets, parking, and concessions. Going to a pro game is a major financial outlay, and as such, if the team gives a dispirited performance, the fans who paid exorbitant prices should be annoyed.

Owners and players are awash in huge pay checks while the fans are hit with high prices, endless advertising, and pleas for the use of public funds for stadiums that will produce private profits. While some players are loyal to particular teams and cities, we have to face the fact that much of professional sports is about money. Owners and the leagues fight over TV and online revenue, while players and owners joust for the edge in contract negotiations. Seasons have been cancelled over contract disputes in both baseball and hockey.

So we need to call a spade a spade here. Owners, league officials, and players want us to believe this is about loyalty and pride in a hometown team. They want us to focus on the one hand holding out the promise of entertainment and mutual accomplishment, while the other hand is firmly planted on our wallets.

Sports is a fun diversion that I have no problem enjoying. I try to keep it to minimum because it’s simply a matter of entertainment, not a source of meaning or fulfillment. And therefore, if my hometown team hits the field today and can’t manage to gain a first down, I have no reservations about booing them. I think pay day will help soften that blow.

And if you don’t buy this, choosing to believe in the sentimental home team fluff instead, I have one word for you, “Boooo!!!”