Transitions part 2 aka Apple Tree

The idea for my last blog had been kicking around my mind for a few weeks. Then I received some news that made the topic of transitions germane to my current situation.

In May, I was told that my current position of Coordinator of Children's and Youth Ministries was to be eliminated here at Cal Heights, in order to make room for an Associate Pastorate position to be filled through the placement process of the United Methodist Church. Thus I began a search for a new calling.

Resumes went out, "not an interview" (but really an interview) conversations with pastors were had, Skype interviews were held, and offers to fly out and visit churches were extended.

June rolled around and change continued. I spent a weekend in Gainesville, Florida falling in love with a church and its surrounding community, the Associate Pastorate position was no longer going to be placed at Cal Heights this summer, and the church in Gainesville offered me the position of Director of Children, Youth, and Family Ministries.  That all took place over the course of nine days.

So where does that leave us? The United Methodist District here in California is still looking to place an Associate Pastorate sometime in the future. Which means I have two positions available to me. One that is open ended and one that quite possibly may end in a year's time.

I have accepted the position at First United Methodist of Gainseville. I will end my time at Cal Heights on Sunday, July 15.

There is much to grieve, and there is much to celebrate.

And there is the great task of finishing well.

Central to my philosophy of Children's Ministry, and really central to my life is the idea of paying attention to what is in front of me; paying attention to what I have to accomplish today. Being present to what God has for me. Being present to what God has for others that I am to be a part of.

Luther is quoted as saying that if he knew tomorrow was his last day he would still "plant (his) apple tree today."






Luther's quote speaks of duty and commitment. Worrying not about the future but caring for the needs of today. The quote also speaks of hope. For this allegorical apple tree will grow, it will bloom, and it will nourish others long after Luther is gone. The work of today impacts the growth of tomorrow. Even when we are not there to see it.

I know that my time left at Cal Heights (and for that matter my time already spent here) will plant seeds. Seeds that others will water, and still others will harvest.

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

Transitions

Top Left July 16, 2017; Top Right Jan. 24, 2018
Bottom Right Feb. 27, 2017:; Bottom Left: May 15, 2017

During my second year of seminary in Chicago, I took a (nearly) weekly picture of the view from my front door. At the end of the year I turned these photos into a time lapsed video. It is still one of my favorite projects I have ever done.

Video

I tried to repeat the idea during my last semester of seminary. This time the bridge over a tiny tributary of the Chicago River was the subject.

Video

I don't think it turned out as well as the first one, but it was an exercise that kept me present during that semester of transition. Even as I rewatch the video today, I am reminded of that bridge, the housing it led to and the campus it lead away from. Memories across my four years at North Park flood my mind. That small space in Chicago is filled with laughter and tears, joy, doubt, fear, certainty, rejection, acceptance, and so much more.

In times of change, I believe it is important to look ahead, to plan ahead, to ready oneself for what is next. Like the titular ant of the Aesop Fable, it is good in the summer to plan for the winter.

In times of change, I believe it is important to stay grounded and present. To leave the worry of tomorrow for tomorrow and participate in the joy of today. Like the titular Grasshopper, it is important to run, sing, and dance while the sun still shines.

In January of 2017, I began a brand new adventure in Copperopolis, CA (Yes it is a real city, and no it is not home to "Copper Man"). I also began taking pictures for a new video. Those of you who follow me on Facebook may remember all the pictures I kept posting of that "same" sandwich.

The goal was to make a video where the tree in the background exhibited the changing seasons. I arrived in Copper after the leaves had fallen, and my journey took me away from that tree (and those sandwiches) just as the foliage of new life had begun to appear. I decided not to cut that video together.

In July of 2017, I began a new adventure in Long Beach, CA. Those of you who follow me on Facebook may have noticed I have been posting the "same" picture of the steeple of my new church. Peeking into the frame of those photos is a tree who I hoped would tell the story of the passage of time through the colors adorning its branches.

As I watched the branches of that tree transitioned from green, to pink, to bare, to green again, I thought this video project just might work out. Then the city, for completely legitimate safety reasons, removed that tree. And while my project stopped there. I have continued to take (nearly) weekly pictures of the steeple, because this church and my role in it are important to me.

These reflections of where I have been and where I am, serve as personal reminders that we can borrow from the past, but never repeat it. We can notice the patterns of what has come before, but they serve only as clues, not certainties of what lies ahead.

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

Same Song Next Verse

In 2016, I received a call that shook my understanding of who I was called to be.
In 2017, I had regained a sense of my calling and thought I had found the place where it was to be fulfilled.

I was wrong.

When I moved to northern California, in January of last year I believed I was beginning a journey of change for myself and for the church that had hired me. I believed that my vision and strengths had been sought out and understood to be the compliment needed to help that congregation stretch and grow.

I was wrong.

The easiest narrative is to understand those six months as a waste of time or at best a mistake. It would be easy to simply write that time off as a loss and plow ahead.

But then, I would be wrong.

A friend of mine once kindly summarized one of my blogs (the one I wrote after taking the job in Copperopolis) this way: We often have no idea why we are where we are, but we may be finding things we wouldn't find anywhere else.

The phone call that rocked my world took place on Feb 10. In less than a year, I was working in Copper. In less than six months, that was no longer true. And now February 10 of 2018 has come and gone, and I find myself in yet a new context.

I realize I have yet to mentioned on this blog that I am now the full time Coordinator for Children's, Family, and Youth Ministry at Cal Heights United Methodist Church. What I do know is the lessons I learned during those six months, I use on a daily basis now.

There is much to write about this new context, but I want to spend some time on Feb 10 of this year. The picture posted at the top of this blog was taken Feb 10, 2018.

I was in Angelus Oaks, CA on retreat. But I wasn't there on retreat for myself (though I returned home having received gifts I didn't even know I needed). I was there for a youth group retreat hosted by three other local UMC churches from the area. We had forty kids in attendance, four from Cal Heights. In those three short days, I learned about my kids, how they see each other, the world around them, and even a little about how they see God. (I would also note that I learned a little about how they see me, but since they might be reading this, I won't include that bit).

I have found a church where who I was made to be is welcomed. This new context is one of Trust, Support, Encouragement, and Challenge. I feel like myself when I wake up each day.

In 2016, I needed hope and looked to a simple painting of a blue-purple-ish weirdo to hold that hope for me.

In 2017, I was grateful to be in a better place, and that a simple painting of a blue-purple-ish weirdo could remind me of that fact.

In 2018, I am fulfilled to know that I am in an even better place, and that a simple photo of a blue-purple-ish sunset reminds of that fact.


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

The good news I am staying busy. The bad news is I don't have the time to update the blog as often as I would like. Hoping to figure out a schedule that rectifies that.

Meanwhile...

Seven Years Ago while sitting in LAX, the idea of the hero's journey as analogous to my own journey began to take hold for me. Since then it has been a major filter for me as I process the events of my life both large and small. It certainly has become a recurring theme for this blog.

My last entry dealt with the in-between place I found myself in. I anticipated this entry to be about waiting and choice. I thought I would be writing about how the hero's journey ends when the hero returns home (or at the very least finds a new place of rest). I expected to be writing that now rather than seeing my journey like Frodo returning to the Shire or Alice finding her way back to the tree by the river bank, I felt my journey had become a series of quests with rest still far in sight.

This would be true Sunday to Thursday.

Two things happened on Thursday.
I received a text asking if I was available for a phone call with Pastor Doug of Cal Heights United Methodist Church here in Long Beach, and my mom started to feel feverish around 11:00 pm.

Friday morning two more things happened.
My mom woke me up at 1:10 am complaining of fatigue and shortness of breath and asked me to dial 9-1-1. The ambulance arrived shortly thereafter. From the emergency room my mom was wheeled directly into surgery to have a shunt placed to flush out a 99% blockage in her right artery. By 5:00 am my mom was in the ICU and allowed to get some rest. I went home and slept for a couple of hours.

At 9:00 am my phone rang. It was the call from Pastor Doug. We discussed the denomination and the position they had available. We talked a little shop. He asked if I could come in on Monday for lunch. He then went on say "after that I will show you the church, I will take you to where we do our background checks, and then we can get you started." I realized that with no formal interview I had just been offered a position at Cal Heights United Methodist.

Obviously I needed time to think.
I truly had no idea what was going to happen from day to day. Some days my mom was fine and being discharged the next day looked hopeful. Other days I was asking the doctors if my brother should be buying a plane ticket to come see her.

The position that was offered was for a part-time interim Youth director. Not exactly what I was looking for.

In the midst of all this, there was also a lack of clarity as to what my mom would need when she left the hospital.

Then I had the hero's journey redefined for me.
Above I spoke about the hero's journey being one of returning home. In fact I wrote something very similar before I left for Copperopolis. Yet somewhere in the last six months I had grown a desire to be great and important. To have others know of my work and my calling. To have others know of me. I had defined for myself the hero's journey as a quest of greatness, a proof of my value and worth.

Somewhere underneath my desire to be present, to make a difference right where I was, I had grown restless and allowed outside voices to be the barometer for my worth. I had allowed others view of my calling and work to be the definition of those things.

To be brutally honest, I am still processing all of this. 
Still looking to find meaning in it all.
Still trying to find the balance. Not wanting to make this last month one of fate, seeing these events as necessary for God to work. And yet, not wanting to make them mean nothing seeing them as pure happenstance.


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

Tune in Next Time.. When our hero has some distance and clarity on all this to share with you all, or simply uses this space to rant about Kermit the Frog.