The Desk Chronicles: Part Three: Beginning Again

In September of 2018, I wrote about placing a toy car on my desk in Florida. The link below will take you to that story.

The Desk Chronicles: Part One: Roots

This week I added a paper weight to my new desk, where I now serve as the pastor of Salem UCC, Westphalia, Indiana. The paper weight was a gift from a congregant who attended Salem in years past. It marks the 125th anniversary of this congregation.  Our 175th is right around the corner. 

I have only been here seven weeks, and yet it feels like home. It is smaller and quieter than any place I have ever been.  Yet it feels like home. Before I arrived here, I only encountered lightning bugs like twice in my lifetime. Now they are out my back porch most every night. The rain comes differently here too. Some times suddenly, some times you can see the storm roll on. Sometimes it passes by all together. And that smell after the rain? It is unique in each place I have lived.  And now, only a month and a half later, the air after a rain is the scent of home. 

Though if I am honest, the smell of pine trees will always be home. But I was near pines for the first quarter century of my life. I still miss pine trees. I still miss mountains. But now, oak trees and corn fields are home. I still miss Target and Trader Joe's, and the burger place that was a short walk from work. But Westphalia is home. And not just because my stuff is here. (Though that was a whole other ordeal.)

I am home because I am here. I have found the way to be comfortable and at ease with myself no matter where I am. Some say Home is where the Heart is. Some say Home is where you Hang your Hat. I think home is where you find peace. And I have found peace in myself. But I did not do that alone.

I found peace in the friends in college who drove to Vegas for no good reason (and without enough seat belts). I found peace in the friends who made sure I got to private movie screenings. I found peace in the Bible study where we learned that God isn't shocked by your sin. I found peace in learning that being an Eagles fan, even if only for the cheesestakes is an emotional roller coaster. I found peace on zip line platforms, caves, and ski mountains with amazing people who saw in me, what I couldn't yet see. I found peace talking to Sven and Ollie. I found peace in Baby Shark (before it was a lifestyle brand). I found peace folding way too many origami flowers for an Easter service. I found peace in ordering the Fish Sandwich every Thursday for a semester. I found peace in soda, "make it fancy", and home made cookies. I found peace in gathering at the table for board games and Seders, but truly in the people gathered around said table. I found peace in the Purple Room struggling to cobble together translations from the Greek or watching The Guardians of the Galaxy bring peace through friendship. I found peace being chased by zombies on our way to ride the Viper. I found peace in being let into the lives of some truly remarkable people. I found peace meeting the real Santa Claus (he lives in Gainesville). I found peace on the steps of the chancel with a lion puppet on my hand and their eyes glued to said puppet. I found peace on the Ichetucknee River. I found peace in the insanity that was Wizarding School. I even found peace reading books online and having amazing food brought to my door.

I found peace in the eyes, in the smiles, the words, and the souls of too many to list here. Though if you are reading this, there is a very good chance you are one of them.


--Serving God alongside all of you, just from further away

--Jesse Letourneau

The Desk Chronicles: Part Two: Leaving Well

Leaving Well

Today is the three year anniversary of my first day on staff at California Heights United Methodist Church.

I held that position for 364 days. That year (rounding up) was full of lessons, heartbreaks, and joys like I had never truly known before. Yet it is just my last couple of days there, that I want to mention here.

Before I left, a friend who knew about some of the heartbreak of that year, encouraged me to leave some small item on my desk at the church. He encouraged me to "imagine that item as all of the frustration and pain from this year. As you drive away from it, imagine yourself driving away from all of that to your new start in Florida." I was encouraged to think of the distance between myself and the totem as the distance between myself and those wounds.

I left a pencil adorned with a pink puff on top on my desk. And drove to Florida.

Two years later (again rounding up) I would be driving away from another church, another family, and another desk. This time however, while there certainly was frustration and pain in that time, there was also joy and growth. I wanted to leave a token behind. This time as a symbol of the good will I found there.


This plastic top appeared one day in one of the Worship Bags we hand out to our kids to give them something to focus on during the service.

However, it didn't come from us. It was left behind. It found its way into my office. I would spin it or just fiddle with it while I was on the phone, or needing a kinetic outlet when I was problem solving. It also saw use when our office email decided to run particularly slowly.

As I waited for the owner to claim it. It quickly became "my top." One of the many items on my desk that were all a part of my time at First UMC in Florida.

As my time in Florida drew to a close, I reflected on my time in California. It was a comfort to see the marked difference between the two experiences. Not just in the day to day of ministry, but in the person I was entering the Sunshine State, and who I was as I prepared to leave.
So, I thought up this little ritual.

One item left behind as a reminder of the new beginning I was about to embark on. Another item left behind as a reminder of the joy brought to me by that place.

--Serving God alongside all of you, just from further away
--Jesse Letourneau

And Then...

So, 2020 has been a year.

Worldwide pandemic.
The impact of that upon the US.
The shifting ground of that impact that shifted the ground exposing truths to others who hadn't seen/hadn't cared.
The politicization and sniping that we took from these lessons.

Due to the last part of that recap, I don't think I want to rehash the larger issues here on this site.
But if you have my contact info. Would love to have those conversations with you.


2020 has been quite the year for me personally as well.

Learned on Super Bowl Sunday, that May 31, would be my last day at FUMC.
Began online interviews via ZOOM as I searched for a new home for ministry. (Before ZOOM was the cool new thing)
Found a really cool daily rhythm reading to the children of FUMC online. (I suspect there were as many adults as there were kids that enjoyed them.)
Became sick of ZOOM as it was the only way to have interviews for new positions, staff meetings, etc.
Was literally fed by a family at First who "made too much" and "just had to share." Despite strong evidence to the contrary, I still believe it was a magical food fair that exchanged home cooked meals for offerings of tupperwear.
Learned that I might have gifts and talents that were being hidden under several different bushels.
Accepted a job in rural Indiana as solo pastor.
Waited two plus weeks for my furniture to arrive.
Served at a Funeral before my second Sunday as pastor.
And have been so blessed to reconnect with friends from Chicago and Houston via this thing called ZOOM.

And that is just the list. The fear, the anger, joy, sadness, hope, confidence, disbelief, ease, comfort, panic, discipline, sloth, waiting, expecting, receiving, leaving, and arriving could each fill a blog on their own.

But for now, the list will have to do.

--Serving God alongside all of you, just from further away
--Jesse Letourneau

Next time: Highly symbolic stolen plastic tops

Day 690

I haven't updated this blog since August.
A few things have happened since then. Both globally and personally.

Where I would like to start is with is some highlights from my second year of ministry. When I began this entry, I was expecting to write about the two or three fundamentally grandiose events that radically changed the direction of my ministry.

But looking back, they weren't there. I assumed they would be. My heart is so full of joy and pride that there must be some grand events that created these feelings. Rather, I noticed countless small events. Little things like trips to serve and trips to play. Participating in you all's lives through stage plays,  band performances, baseball games, and of course movies at Celebration Pointe. I found the peace of God on lazy rivers and inflatable water slides. I had the privilege of standing with teachers and scout masters. I had the privilege of sitting in pews and waiting rooms. I got to speak from the pulpit and from the steps of our altar. I got to listen. Oh, and I got to meet Popeye.

In June, I got to experience Georgia. And more importantly I got to experience God moving through middle school students through service and bonding with each other. Through youth soccer campuses and community gardens as well as games of Sardines and Moose Moose (Hot Dog).

In October, we were asked to help out with the Fall Fun on Metcalfe Street event by being a part of the Trunk or Treat area. Turns out we were three of the four vehicles there. It was great to have been asked to partner with this amazing school.

October was also when I got to serve with these weirdos.

In December, I got to hand these off to brighten the holidays for a few families here in Gainesville.

January was when I met Popeye.

In February, we celebrated with Zeke, remembered Reggie and Malia. As a wise man once said, "Ice Cream Breakfast forever:"

In March there was Pancake Dinners, Ash Wednesday, and Scout's Blue and Gold Banquet.
Then things changed just a little. More on that next time.

--Serving God alongside all of you, just from further away
--Jesse Letourneau