Now, unlike Blogger or WordPress.com, I had to pay for things. It cost money to get wordsarenotenough.com, and it cost money to host my blog on it. (I started with GoDaddy.com, but now I use BlueHost.com as my domain host.) I pay about $80 a year to run this site, and I use it for more than just photography. Words Are Not Enough is about life- travel, photography, friends, mission- lots of things. Anyway, I’m writing this to tell you that you can get a ProPhoto blog too. Your blog doesn’t have to be about photography to use it, but if you do have a photoblog, ProPhoto is the best I’ve seen.

So here’s the deal. Check out this video about ProPhoto Blogs. If you like it, get it. It’s got wicked awesome customization tools that are simple to use- you can make a professional blog without paying an arm and a leg.

And if you sign up, use this promo code: JOEKEN654. It’ll save you a little cash, and it’ll give me a little, too.

Until the next iteration of my blog theme arrives with line break support, I wish upon you the gift of brevity.  But please, don’t hesistate to comment.  I love getting comments that aren’t spam.

I’m trying to discover what that destiny is, but today I feel like I’m riding that feather on the wind.  In college one of my professors described the disciple as a person in a sailboat, and the Holy Spirit is the wind that moves him.  He can tack and jibe all he wants, but without that wind, he’s not going anywhere.  The last few months have felt like I’m stuck in the doldrums praying for the wind.  Rather than bring that frustration to this blog, I’ve kept it inside.  I haven’t felt particularly inspired to post.  I have about eight or nine drafts started and saved, but none are ready to be posted.  I have a lot of things I’d like to study; some things are for personal growth, some are for personal projects, and others are to help me professionally.

So I’m out for a while.  Lent seems like a good enough reason to take a break.  While I’m gone I hope to regain focus, settle some plans, and maybe even finish a few projects.  I’m off Facebook and Twitter.  I’ll continue to post at my photoblog, but that’s about it.  You can always email me, and if you have my number feel free to call me.  Comments will be moderated, and I’ll login to accept or deny them.  It’s possible I’ll be gone until Easter.  I don’t know.  Until I’m back, see you around.

Here’s to the next year… and many more.

After lunch at Damon’s Steakhouse in Arundel Mills Mall (they have a Medieval Times!), I went up to Ellicott City to meet Adam Feldman and Matt Otto, two bloggers and friends who are leading the Metanoia community.

Adam and MO told me I should go up to Mount Ida and check out the “ruins” of the Patapsco Female Institute. So I did.

I snagged that photo from underneath the chain-link fence. After Ellicott City, I drove back through Annapolis for a while, getting lost and finding myself at the Annapolis Towne Center, which is a huge shopping center. I grabbed dinner and then drove south to Thomas Point, where I was supposed to find a sweet classic Chesapeake lighthouse. But the road was closed, and I missed out. I did catch this shot from someone’s side yard.

Here’s the link to the Annapolis 2008 photo gallery on Flickr.

The only role John will accept, as we saw at the beginning, is that of the Voice: I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness. Make straight the way of the LORD. That is almost all he knows.

It is enough. Enough to create around him a community of the true Israel, on tiptoe with expectation for God to come and save and judge; a community among whom were people called Peter and Andrew, a community in whose midst there was one whose sandal-strap John was not worthy to untie. Enough to make Herod tremble on his throne at the thought that the old rumours of Israel’s God coming might after all be true, or at least that enough people might believe them to make life very difficult for his own shaky kingdom. Enough to challenge those who lived by the love of power with the old message, half-forgotten but never quite obliterated, of the power of love.

Enough, too, to challenge us in our own little kingdoms, and our own responsibilities. We, too, live on and live by the promised coming of God. We who live on the farther side of Christmas, Calvary, Easter, and Pentecost stake our lives on the belief that, in the man Jesus, Isaiah’s promise about the coming of the bridegroom to woo and win his people came true in literal human history. But if we believe that, we are also committed to the belief that this same God comes to us again week by week, in bread and wine, to carry the lambs in his bosom, gently to lead the mother sheep. And we are committed to the belief that he will come again, finally, to judge and save his weary old world once and for all.

And our calling, therefore, as those who celebrate his strange and beautiful coming, is once again to be a voice. The church is here to be the Voice to the world; the Voice that does not claim great things for itself, but simply urges the world to get ready for the God who comes in the power and judgment of love. We are to live, and we are to speak, in such a way as to do for our generation, more or less, what John did for his: to demonstrate and to announce that there is a different way of being human, the way of love, the way of God, and so to bring the world the news (good news for the weary, bad news for the bullies) that the creator of the world is also the comforter of the world.

We worship God because of John 1:1-18, and our lives of worship must, without question, reflect love. I’ll post it again.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.

(John bore witness about him, and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks before me, because he was before me.’”) And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known.  -John 1:1-18

This is our message.  And just as the light shines through Christ, Christ should and must shine through his followers to the world through love, even to the point of death- to ourselves in a spiritual sense, to the world in a physical sense.  Worship, it seems, is more than a love song.  It’s life.

I’m a pretty introverted guy as it is.  I can be outgoing, but I value silence and solitude very much.  I remember being somewhere deep in the Canadian Rockies this summer, alone, breathing in deep breaths of crisp, cool air.  Alone, but not alone.  Completely in awe of the Creator of the universe.  Not some top being in a hierarchy of beings, but THE Being.  The one named I AM.  God.

The discipline of solitude seems a little misleading.  We’re never really alone.  And that, I think, is what solitude is about.  Being physically alone, but knowing that God is there.  Like a cosmic date with the Creator of everything.  That might be why I prefer to find my solitude in nature.  I think if what I see is so beautiful, so creative, then how much more beautiful and creative is the One who made it.   That’s one aspect of solitude.  Taking time to separate myself from the noise and busyness of the world to be alone with the one I call Father.

There’s another aspect to solitude.  The kind where Moses spends 40 years wandering in the desert.  The kind where Paul spends 7 years in the wilderness.  A time when we are forced to become disciplined in every aspect of our lives.  A time when we are compelled to rely wholly and solely on God to give us the strength to endure.  Intense solitary confinement, without confinement.  I’m not sure how this is really practiced these days.  But it seems appropriate that we should have times of solitude that teach us reliance upon God alone.

I guess it all makes me wonder what it was like… really like… for Jesus during that 40 day fast in the Judean wilderness.  Probably a little of both aspects.  Solitude for discipline; solitude for worship.

Visit the Spiritual Disciplines page to read more on the disciplines by other bloggers. 

But there is a time for silence.  Donald Whitney makes several suggestions why we should practice the discipline of silence and solitude (I’ll discuss solitude more next week):

• To Hear the Voice of God
• To Express Faith in God
• To Express Worship to God
• To Seek the Salvation of the Lord
• To Be Physically and Spiritually Restored
• To Regain a Spiritual Perspective
• To Seek the Will of God
• To Learn Control of the Tongue

I find myself enjoying my time of silence and solitude, and they are often practiced together as is mentioned by Whitney, Richard Foster, and Dallas Willard.  Usually I like to spend time in silence alone- it’s hard to sit with others quietly.  I’m easily distracted in a group.  I think it’s pretty important that we spend time in silence with God.  Not only are we fasting from speech, but also from the busyness of our lives- television, music, the Internet.  Whitney says that it’s a good time to read, write, and pray.  I agree.

Silence isn’t living the rest of our lives without uttering another sound.  It’s about knowing when to shut our mouths and listen.  It’s about quieting our tongues and opening our ears.  It’s about waiting on God to answer us.  And maybe there’s some peace to it all.  The stillness of our lips.  A sanctuary from the noise.  A quiet place.

I think I’ll go for a walk.

I’ve got one more year left in New Orleans thanks to That Storm. I’ll be reflecting more on that on August 29th. For now I’d like to look back on my adventures and experiences over the last three years.

The Road Trips

The summer before I moved here, I went on a mission trip to Siberia. It didn’t start my passion for traveling; for as long as I can remember I’ve been obsessed with maps and history- combining the two for a desire to see the world not just as it is, but as it was. Since August 2004 I’ve been to 21 states and 4 provinces. I’ve made a handy map for you. I told you I was obsessed.

See? I’ve been a lot of places, but the green is where I’ve been in the last 3 years. I went on two separate trips to Canada (in 2005 and 2007) and I went to Nashville three times: once on a mission trip and twice for Passion Conferences. I went to Atlanta several times- once for class, once for Catalyst, and once as a stop on my way to Canada. Oh, did I mention I haven’t set foot on a place since I went to Siberia? I was born a ramblin’ man. And I enjoyed every second of it- even the time on one-lane gravel mountain roads at dusk in the middle of Montana.

A Little Adversity

I’ll admit, Hurricane Katrina messed me up. Sure I lost a bunch of books and a lot of stuff from my dorm room. Sure FEMA has given me more trouble than help in the last year. But I’ve also watched family suffer with illness (in particular, Mom’s cancer), and last April I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. The blessing is we’re both still alive. I’m still here. I survived Katrina and I’m surviving diabetes. Somehow, I’ve managed to keep my sanity in the last year. Granted, another hurricane could finish that sanity off anytime between now and December 1st, but so far, I’m alright. And God willing, I’ll stay that way.

The Mission and the Church

When I started here, I visited one church before I made a decision on where I’d belong. Day one: Edgewater Baptist Church. There was no other choice for me. I knew immediately. They haven’t let me down. One semester in, our pastor Jim Shaddix announced he was moving to Denver. I’d already seen what happens to a church when a pastor leaves, and I was convinced that Edgewater, like my previous church, would fall into angry power struggles. I was wrong. When I got to Edgewater I heard the phrase “the church gathered, and the church scattered.” On Sunday we gathered, and during the week we scattered throughout the city. When Katrina came, we really learned what it meant to be the church scattered. There was talk of disbanding- giving up. But a small group of remnant members came together in the home of Charlie and Sheryl Ray, while Edgewater’s building soaked in over 9 feet of water. Dr. Shaddix’s church in Denver sent Edgewater money, which was distributed among the families in the church. Then they sent teams to help us rebuild. The church scattered, and the church gathered. In the last three years I’ve seen what the church is really about. How they band together through adversity instead of falling apart. It’s the bigger love of the family (to quote the Family Matters theme song). I can’t and won’t forget it.

So three years gone, and another one to go in New Orleans. Here’s to making one more matter.