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

Day 366

In ministry value and worth are often considered in relationship to the size and number of buildings, money, and people involved. That is to say a successful ministry is measured in bucks, butts, and buildings.

The more you have the better you are doing. However, attraction is not service and numbers do not dictate quality. McDonald's and Coca-Cola are in more places than any world religion has even dared to dream.

Now, this is not about mega churches being bad, or small Bible Study being good. This is about taking a moment to notice the little things.

I believe the little things count. I believe the little things add up. I believe sometimes the little things are really the big things.

Over the last year, I have been compiling a list of the moments in my ministry here at First that may appear to be the little things, but are the seeds that grow, the buds that blossom. They are the bedrock that demonstrate to me that my God is at work here in Gainesville.

Below I have shared some of those with you:

2018 
7/23 I walk into my office to find a bouquet of balloons. One of them reads "Welcome Home"

9/19 Before Chapel, the Pre-School children sing "Happy Birthday" to me

9/24 During Communion, myself and the pastor receive the compliment, "You spittin"

10/7 A visitor who had come with one of our youth families and I had a conversation after church about who we were as a congregation. One of those "Oh, I didn't know Christians believed that" kind of conversations

10/7 Having the privilege to sit next to one of our youth at a worship service at Gator Wesley's (campus ministry) service

10/22 A proud parent sharing opening night video of their actor

11/1 Learning the story of a Saint, whose walk with Jesus was longer than my time here on earth thus far

11/1 Linda looses her head over her boyfriend (Evil Dead Musical)

11/1 Watching one of our youth win the championship game, followed by the end of the year ceremony celebrating both teams

12/10 Discussing the depth of Shalom with a Jewish congregant

12/16 The Sunday where every congregant under the age of eighteen was involved in playing, singing, reading, or acolyting during the service

12/16 Having two youth represented at the District Wide Science Fair Award Ceremony, and them giving each other a high-five as they waited for the other names to be called

2019
1/27 The night where one of the youth, who normally wouldn't give me the time of day, excitedly sharing with me what she knew from the topic we mentioned for next week

2/10 A youth stopping me in the halls to tell me they enjoyed Sunday School

2/27 Being ministered to and encouraged by Scout parents after a particularly rough week (and it was only Wednesday)

3/20 A Scout saying they have something that will make me happy. Followed by the announcement that they had made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to give those experiencing homelessness

4/6 Watching a child's face light up when they hear the inflatable slide at the Art Fair is free to ride

4/7 Watching the youth spend time with each other and work together at the Art Fair

4/10 In the middle of our Chapel unit on the life of Jesus, one of the Pre-School Teachers walked her children into the chapel past the stained glass windows (that we had been using as visual aids) and points out the stories we had done thus far

4/19 A youth flipping through Bible to follow along with the reading at the Good Friday Service

5/4 and 5/5 Watching our church come together to reach out to our community with a crazy Harry Potter themed "Wizard Training" Event 5/5 Watching two youth groups work together to make day two of Harry Potter happen 5/5 Connecting with a (third) youth group at the Harry Potter Event

6/19 When the Director of Music walked into my office and said, "So, I was downloading panels of Spider-Man comics" (y'know for work)

7/10 While teaching the Pre-Schoolers the story of Adam and Eve, and asking "What do you think God did next?" "There is nothing you can do to make God stop loving you" was the reply. (Which is the line we end with every week)

7/13 At the Youth Families Retreat seeing one of the Youth wearing their shirt from the Middle School Mission Trip

7/13 Having a Youth ask me to watch her summer production of Mama Mia

7/14 A parent sending a picture of their first grader reading their new Bible on the way home from service

7/21 A Octogenarian and a three year old playing with an over-sized soccer ball after our Simple Sunday Lunch

7/24 Day 366 of working in the place where all are welcomed (even Harry Potter), and the place that has become HOME

The Friends You Take with You

I moved a lot.
Like three jobs in the last three years a lot.
Like living in four states in the last five years a lot.
Like I have down sized more times than Marie Kondo a lot.
Like even then, I haven't completely unpacked in over a decade a lot.

There are places and people that I love dearly spread across this country. Some of those people are still in the cities where we met, others have gone off on their own adventures having moved since our paths first crossed.

And the reality is, no matter how deep the connection or how many suitcases you own, not everything, not everyone can come with you when you move.

So, instead things come to be reminders of the places you once lived. Physical items become totems of the people who were once near.

Chicago 2011
Bob, Mooby, and Cookie get displayed even before I have any furniture

Over the years, I have accrued a handful of these totems. And they all fit into a single box. A single box that is always made accessible whether the rest of my things are in storage or not. A single box that is always unpacked and its items displayed regardless of where I am.

While it may appear that this box is nothing more than a box of toys, each item carries significance for me.

In the photo on the right, the anthropomorphic tomato, Bob (far left), is progenitor of this tradition of hanging onto items that take on a greater meaning. Bob and I first met in college. Bob survived a mission trip in 1998 to Australia. He beyond being rescued from the more curious among our team, carries with him not just the memories of that trip, but the memories of my four years of college. He holds not only the memories of dorm rooms, study sessions, bad cafeteria food, finals weeks and missions trips, but the memory of everyone I met, everyone who broke my heart, and everyone who loved me in spite of my flaws for those four years in Redding, CA.

Copperopolis 2017
More shelves lead to more of the box unpacked

After college, I spent nine years living in Southern California. It was then I met Mooby. Mooby is the cow (really a golden calf) on Bob's left in the pic above, and on Bob's right in the pic below. Mooby represents a unique group of friends unlike any I have had before. It was becoming a part of this group that allowed me to attend private screenings of small documentaries, wide release studio films, and private indy films that never sought distribution. It is the reason I have the autograph of Johnny Depp's daughter and once had to help a Hollywood director shoo a group of drunk fans out of his bedroom. But it isn't these memories that ensure Mooby a place on the shelf. Rather, it is the friends who saw past my own doubts and insecurities and made me feel welcomed and accepted without having to change anything about myself.

Gainesville 2019
Albert joins Bob, Larry, and Mooby
(apologies to Pastor Beth)

Each of these plush toys and souvenirs that have accumulated over the years represent not only the people and places where they come from, they have come to represent parts of myself. My past and my present. My joys and failures, my pain and my victories. Little slices of my story that add up to where I am today. Parts of my identity reflected in the people and places that shaped them.

Most all of them were gifts, and most came about toward the end or ever after the experiences whose memories they hold. Today, I added a new "friend" to the shelf.

This new friend, Albert (the green one wearing the tee) is different. Albert is on the shelf not just as a totem for what has been, but as a totem for what can be. He represents not only this last year in Gainesville, but my future here. Albert represents the piece of myself that has found a home here in Gainesville.

Albert holds the hope and the faith this place will have many more memories to come.





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

Feb 10th

February 10th has been a date of significance for me the last few years.

In 2016, my world was shaken. In 2018, a muppet hued sunset gave me assurance.

I have already written about the journey I have traveled the last decade, and how my hope is that FUMC is my last stop.

The last two years, February 10th has been a date where I take a moment to stop and take stock of where I am. This year, I didn't even realize it was the 10th until I logged into Facebook and checked my Memories for that day.

I am beginning to focus not what could have been, rather, I am looking at what is. Instead of obsessing about what I have learned and how to use it, I am simply using those lessons in this new setting, and in this new calling.

This year the significance is that the date held no significance. No major revelations. No major moments of clarity.

And maybe that is a good thing.

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