Conclusion of sorts (aka cacophony of thoughts part 2/edge of epiphany part 2)

When we last left our hero he had graduated from college and moved to the big city.

Okay, I didn't really move to that big of a city. But I did have a kind of "if I can make it here I can make it anywhere" attitude. The original plan was to work as a classroom teacher for a couple of years while getting my credential and then be able to work anywhere in the US as an elementary teacher.

Eight years later...

I was still working as a substitute and barely able to make ends meet. Clearly, I wasn't cut out to be a classroom teacher. I was however made to be a Children's Pastor. This fact was evident to all but me.

But before we get there I wanna back up to my first few years at Grace.
Grace was a home for me. It was more than just a place to serve, it was more than just a place to go that wasn't my apartment or the occasional sub job. It is a place where I found family and security.

I remember one Easter where I joked that I had to leave my "adopted family" (the Derby/Harsh clan) to go to my real family for their Easter meal. Before I could leave Meredith insisted that she take pictures with me and her two girls. In some very real ways, I was adopted into that family. Greg served as a surrogate father and the girls were like my little sisters.

Times change, schedules change, rhythms change, and eventually the Harshs weren't as strong a part of my life as they had been. Somewhere along the way I bonded with the McMullens. I can't even begin to describe what that family has been to me.

Between this transition there came the failed experiment of my going to UC Irvine to get a teaching credential. There were some good times, there were some hard times, some lessons learned the easy way, and some lessons learned the hard way. Ultimately, it wasn't what God had for me. Some of the failure came at my own procrastination, some came through challenges that were beyond my control.

Ultimately, I didn't pass my classes at Irvine because I didn't do all the work. Instead I spent, my time serving in the Children's Ministry at Grace.

I still remember when, after that lunch with Scott Peterson and the bus ride from the airport a few weeks later, that it finally clicked, and I knew what I was suppose to do. I was so excited to tell family and friends of my revelation. I was met with a lot of, "We already knew that." and "It's about time you figured it out." (all said in the most loving way possible.)

When I told my mom her response was, "Of course you are suppose to be in a church and not a classroom. Why didn't you pass the classes at Irvine?"

I was always a Children's Pastor, I just didn't know it.

During these years there were those who knew my story (again mostly those who worked closely with me in ministry). But it wasn't my identity anymore.

At least not to the outside world. Inside though-as I look back, I certainly didn't see it at the time-their was that sliver of need. need to be a kid. need to be a dad. need to be loved.

need to know the stories were real.

More than that, what was inside of me during these years was the belief that I wasn't good enough. There was no way I could be called into ministry, because I am no example, no model, I am too broken to fix others.

Then came John Coe. Or at least tapes of John Coe listen to and discussed in an intimate Bible Study made up of two couples (one of which were the Young Adult Pastor and his wife) and myself. Tapes of John Coe describing the dark night of the soul and what that means. Tapes of John Coe listened to and discussed in a group that had dinner parties around getting me to fill out applications and start to move forward. Tapes listened to and discussed with a group that made me cookie monster cakes and went to see Les Mis at the Hollywood Bowl.

A group that cared. Not about my mission, my calling, and certainly not about my failures. But cared about me.

Then God called me to camp.

The first part of this blog centered around the death of my father and how that impacted my identity. It started as very external thing, and slowly moved inward. By this point (circa 2008) it was moved in so deeply that even I hardly notice it.

At camp even fewer knew about my dad. Funny thing was though, they accepted me none the less. They didn't pitty me or need to support me cause I was broken, they just accepted me. Same thing happened at the church I went to. In fact during my time at ARCG/RCC I can only think of two times I told the story of my dad from start to finish (and one of those was in South Africa.)

Then I got involved in the Children's Ministry at RCC, which lead me to North Park.

Something was said to me last semester that is one of the most encouraging things and one of the most frightening things that has ever been said to me. It is encouraging because it shows the strength and healing God has already done in my life. It is frightening because it shows that my course, my path, my story was not inevitable. I had always assumed that my life with all its ups and downs just naturally led me to the place I am now.

We were sharing in small group setting about how we address God in our prayers. The group knew my story from previous conversations. I began with the statement, "I usually begin my prayers with 'Father God' which isn't really a surprise given my story." One of the response to me was, "I don't think that the way you address God is a given, given your story. I think there are several other ways you could understand God through all of that."

It was another reminder that I have been called out. Set aside, made special, made especially for the work of telling children THE story.

So here I sit. On the edge of epiphany. Here I sit ready to go back and expose the wounds, so that they may be cleaned and healed. I am not completely sure when and how this will all happen. But I am trusting God to equip the one he has called.

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

It's time to light the lights

It’s 7:05pm and I get a call on my cell. Not having a hands free device I let it go to voicemail. 7:10 and the familiar chime of a received message beeps from my pocket. I am already ten minutes late, so I risk the ticket and pull the phone out at the next light. A voice comes from the phone’s loud speaker telling me that if I am not there by 7:15pm I won’t be let in.

I make it to the parking lot and park my Civic. Spurred on by adrenaline, I make the two hundred yard dash to the theatre in time to receive my wristband. The dark green piece of paper I attach around my wrist ensures that I will be able to experience something that I have never been able to do before. I am about to witness a big screen viewing of my childhood heroes the Muppets.

To make the evening even more special I am about to watch not just a simple rerun of one of the classic Muppet Movies. I am about to see a sneak preview of this November's sure to be break out film, merely titled The Muppets. And from this point forward SPOILER WARNINGS are in effect. (None plot specific)

There are original songs. There are a ton of cameos (I know big surprise), and many of them go by so quickly that the old cliché of blink and you might miss them actually applies. The puppets look great. The performances are wonderful. And Walter absolutely belongs to this world.

And now for the he big question: “Was it any good?” Yes, yes it was. It was all kinds of good. Will it bring throngs of new fans into the theatres for years to come? Will it spawn television shows, guest appearances on late night television, and scores of lunch boxes, backpacks, and watches adorned with singing frogs and dancing bears? That I don’t know.

I can tell you it was definitely aimed at the adult fan. This film isn’t as much an introduction of the characters to new fans as much as it is an exercise in asking us older folks, “Remember them?” The film’s central question- Can we go back to the way things were or is it time to move on and grow up?- is a question often echoed by those in their 20s and 30s, those old enough to have childhood memories of the Muppets. Using the Muppets as the cultural icon to ask this question in allegoric form works quite well.

I am glad the Muppets are back, and look forward to seeing the film again when hits theatres in November.

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

It's the little things

Sunday morning on my drive into town to church, I was playing a CD that had been given to me 8 years ago. It was mix of worship songs that were popular at the time. They may be a little dated now, but they remind me of a time and a place. Specifically, they remind me of all the people I worshiped with and severed beside at Grace Community of Seal Beach.

The song "You are My King." came, and I found myself singing along. The opening lines are "I am forgiven, because You were forsaken. I am accepted. You were condemned." It wasn't uncommon for Grace to play this song as the Communion elements were being past down the rows. The song reminded me of the sweetness of fellowship and of the friends left at home.

I arrived at Redwood Covenant and spent the first service helping in Redwood Kids. The second service found me in "Big People Church." Communion was going to be served later in the service. And as all good church kids know, Communion is served the first Sunday of the month. So it wasn't something I was expecting.

As the Communion elements were passed the worship team began to play "You are My King."

As the title states, "it is the small things." God was reminding me that RCC is now my home. And it is. It isn't as deeply rooted as Seal Beach. Actually, as I type this, I realize it is. It doesn't have the same number of memories as Seal Beach, but I have only been here a quarter of the time I was at Grace. But the acceptance, the ministry, the feeling of home they are as deep, maybe deeper since they took root so quickly.

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

VBS

More Here

What is sacred?

The Saturday before VBS there were several of us gathered at the church to hang cardboard and construction paper around the sanctuary in such a way as to make it look like a jungle. While we were working one of the high school girls plugged in her iPod to give us a little tuneage. Mostly Christian stuff. The shuffle function then chose a secular song. It isn't important which one.

Halfway through the song, a very upset person stormed into our church and told us that such music (i.e. secular) was not appropriate for "this house of God." A reasonable calm defense was given, but he wasn't having any of it. In order not to offended our brother in Christ we turned the music off. (Then talked about the event amongst ourselves for the rest of the week).

We could talk all day about secular music, the House of the Lord, meat sacrificed to idols, becoming all things to all men, and the 40 thousand other topics that this encounter raises. But the question that stuck with me is, "What is sacred?".

The easy definition of sacred vs. secular is to define secular first. Secular is what belongs to the world, Sacred is everything else. But is it that easy? If there is a chair sitting in a church building, does it belong to the Lord? The Church is the House of the Lord. If I remove the chair and place it in a restaurant, or even (gasp) a bar, does the chair lose its sacredness? When did it become sacred the first time around? When it was purchased by the planning committee, and therefore became property of the Lord (via the church). Or does the object become sacred once it crosses the threshold of the church?

And if that is the case, if the church is holy ground, wouldn't the song we were playing become sacred because of its surroundings?

Here is the problem, the building isn't sacred. The building isn't holy ground. What made the tabernacle holy? What made the temple holy? It was the presence of the Lord. Where is the Lord's presence today? It is in the lives of His followers (or it should be, but that is another topic for another time, maybe when God calls me to overseas missions). The church (the structure) is NOT HOLY. The Church (the men and women who follow Christ) is holy. We are going to skip the whole, "Well then can we do whatever we want and make it holy?" tangent (short answer= no).

Ironically, the message of VBS this year was that we (the Church) are the living stones that make up the temple of the Lord. It is us working together through the Spirit that make up the Church. And we as people certainly are NOT holy. My holiness is that of Christ's.

That is to say that through the perfect live of Christ that is now mine through the work on the cross and the presence of the Holy Spirit within me, I become holy. Close to four years ago, God began to impress on me the idea of Relationship. How vital relationship is to what we do as a Church. This week I began to see how important Redemption is.

For my inclusion into the Royal Priesthood, my standing as a temple of the Lord, my privilege to be a living stone making up the Church of Jesus, all of it happened through Redemption. If secular is what belongs to the world, then sacred is what belongs to the Lord. I belong to the Lord, the church building belongs to Lord (because it, not unlike me, has the function of serving the Lord), music, food, games, fun, miles of construction paper fashioned to look like a jungle are all sacred because they are taken from the mundane and repurposed to be used to bring God glory.

For me it was the reminder that ministry focuses on Relationships, but cannot neglect Redemption. We must purposely but ourselves in contact with the secular. That is we must go and find those who do not yet belong to God and bring them to Him. That can be done by going out to the jungles or by decorating your church to look like one.

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

--Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau

some random thoughts.

So I have a few thoughts bouncing around my head. None completely formed, and none really worthy of a blog post all their own. Some are random, some are personal. Seven months ago I promised to blog more. For better or worse, here we go:

What the what?
I have seen two separate occasions I have seen groups of grown men (I am guessing mid 20s) out in public wearing tank top undershirts along with a fedora. When the heck did this become acceptable fashion? Has the t-shirt been promoted to semi formal wear, or the fedora been bumped down to the I don't care how I look side of the aisle? Either way I do not approve.

The I-5 is not nearly as boring as I remembered it to be.
This is due in part to radio stations that play a random mix of tunes (there is something about lack of belong/lack of family/lack of commitment/not defining one’s self narrowly that makes these radio stations popular, but I don't have a fully formed thesis, and am most likely over thinking it.) and some classical music along with KLOVE that made the trip entertaining. Also my new Garmin GPS that lets me know how long I have been on the road in miles and time, and counts down to my destination. Plus, it sent me through Gilroy on the way home, that I am sure added some time (despite my per-programmed preferences), but also added some new sights and smells that broke up the monotony that is the 5.

How am I to do my job?
As you faithful readers (both of you) know, I am working towards becoming a Children's Pastor. I have been involved in a Children's Ministry here in town that has a very specific educational and theological theory that works quite well for them. Last week I was able to visit my home church and hang out at their VBS. Their educational and theological theory is quite different, and works quite well I was a little perplexed, as I thought I had found the formula for effective ministry. This week reminded me that there is no formula. We bring our best to God and he takes our efforts, our sacrifice, or piddly little sack lunch, and uses it to feed the masses. It is He who works; we just get a front row seat.

Son Quest Rainforest
As mentioned above, I was able to visit home and "help" out at VBS with Grace last week. Some random thoughts:

• It is so much fun not being in charge of anything.
• No one cares how much you know, until they know how much you care.
• Michael did a fantastic job at rec, and he did much more simply than I ever did.
• Bounce Houses with an attached water slide may be the best thing ever.
• Piranhas are cool, and there teachers are even cooler.
• Watching high school students who came up in the church turn around and give back to VBS is one the most rewarding things I have been a part of.
• There are seasons of rest and seasons of growth. I think I am coming out of a little bit of both, but am not sure exactly where it is I am going.
• This year’s set design was literally five years in the making.
• Good food is always made better when shared with good friends.
• What we do for kids stays with them.
• Second chances are the most important thing you can give.

I was reminded of mine, and am grateful for all who gave it to me.
No I won't go into it just now.
Next year is already in the planning stages.
Pictures up soon (hopefully.)


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

--Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau

Act III

There is a website entitled “How It Should Have Ended” that takes movies that they feel didn’t come to their natural conclusion and rewrites the third act. My personal favorite is their take on Superman, but it is their reaction to Return of the King that I want talk about today.

They postulate that The Lord of the Rings Trilogy would have been better served, if during the first movie, Gandalf had called the Eagles to fly Frodo and Sam to Mount Doom to destroy the One Ring. As they fly off, Sam comments, “Imagine if we had to walk all that way.”

Obviously, Tolkien’s tales are about the journey more than the destination. However, Tolkien also knew the importance of the destination. In fact when Sam and Frodo finally reach their destination, the movie still has several more endings.

I absolutely love the fact that each character gets their ending. Whether it’s a returning to the woods, back to Shire to raise a family, or a boat trip to lands unknown each character is rewarded for their sacrifice. But more than that, each begins a new adventure. For when Frodo and Sam drop the ring into the Mount Doom, to coin a phrase, it is not the beginning of the end, but merely the end of the beginning.

And so it is with us. The story of God continues throughout history. The story begins in the Garden and its second act starts with Shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night. And the story doesn't end with Christ on the cross or even with the empty tomb. It's ending does not come with Jesus eating fish on the shore, or at the day of Pentecost. It is not with John on Patmos or Paul in Rome. It continues on through the early church and to Constantine, to the Aztecs, to Feudal China, to Washing, Lincoln, to Martin Luther King Jr. It continues on to us.

The story of Christ, the story of redemption, the story of God's love for His Creation includes us. And not in "we are connected to the past by our stories" or in a "it makes me feel better to be a part of something better" kind of way.

Rather, the story of redemption includes us because it was always meant to. When Adam and Eve broke communion with God, He looked down from heaven and saw Abraham and Moses, He saw the death and resurrection of His son, and he saw us.

It is one story. We were always meant to be a part of God and His love.

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

Bells on Christmas Day

I have a new year's resolution: blog more. And more importantly make it my blog and not try and emulate the work of others. So with that in mind, I am not going to wait until the perfect analogy or the perfect illustration come along to illustrate what I am learning/musing on. I may not even wait until my thoughts are fully formed.

So basically what you are going to get from me is a one side stream of conscience conversation (which you can make two sided if you add comments).

So with the business of business out of the way let's begin.

I have heard the Christmas story at least once for the last 33 years*. I have participated in Advent celebrations at home and in the Church. I have written and read monologues for school and church events. I have taught the story and all it means countless times to the next generation. And yet it remains new. There is always another lesson in shepherds who are sore afraid or angels singing in Latin.

Just when I think I have seen the narrative from every angle another one presents itself. One of the things I appreciate most about Grace @ Night is the willingness of the leadership to ask the hard questions. To speak on the problem of pain, to speak about how the world truly sees the Church and how we are to respond. This December they asked the simple question, "If Jesus' birth was to bring peace on earth, where is it?"

Where indeed? The old adage, "just turn on your tv and you can see..." truly applies to the lack of peace in our world. Well then maybe the peace Christ is to bring is about inner peace and inner wellness. Or maybe better yet it is the peace of the future rule of Christ on earth. While these statements are true, and begin to answer the question, they are not enough.

Neither answer satisfies. Honestly, stop and dwell on the concept that the angels proclaimed Christ's birth would bring peace on earth (Luke 2:14), and yet it is not here. They didn't say it would come through the work of Christ on the cross, they didn't say that it would come when the book of Revelation unfolds. They said we proclaim, "on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests." And yes, the cross and the Second Coming ushered in and will usher in peace between God and man unlike what had been/will be seen before, but what of the "now" promised by the angels?

You know why this question while seemingly simple is a loaded one? Because if the angels on the night of Christ's birth were give to hyperbole, if the mouthpieces of God were overstating or worse yet lying about why this baby was so important, can we trust anything else the New Testament says? I know, the question sucks. It raises legitimate theological kinks in the armor that is the Good News of Christ.

And this question isn't new. In 1863 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote a poem entitled I Hear the Bells on Christmas Day. In the poem, Longfellow laments, "'There is no peace on earth,' I said, 'For hate is strong and mocks the song Of peace on earth, good will to men.'" In 2008, Mark Hall of Casting Crown used the poems as lyrics for a song of the same title.listen here

You will note at the song's conclusion Longfellow states, "God is not dead, nor doth He sleep. The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth good will to men." How can Longfellow say this? What happens between stanza three and four to bring about this change? If we look only the lyrics we find that the bells simply pealed more loud and deep. Fat lot of good that does us (or at least me). I still look around at my world and see strife and war (much of it done in Christ's name).


There are two things that need to be stated for us to reach the same conclusion as Longfellow. The first is to look at the word peace. In the original text the word peace carries with it the Jewish understanding of peace or more accurately the understanding of the word shalom. Shalom is greater than peace.


In English we see the word peace and think of its antithesis war. Peace is often defined as the absence of conflict. Shalom carries with it the weight of things being as they should be. Shalom doesn't simply mean that there is no fighting, it is a condition where all the parties involved are in harmony. I was once teaching Sunday School and asked the children what peace was. One little boy answered, "It is where everyone sits at the table and gets along." I like this definition.


However, this only brings us back to the original question. Where's the peace? (And yes in my head that last sentence sounds like a little old lady upset with her hamburger.) And more importantly it raises the question "How can we obtain peace?" The answer to this question lets us in on the secret Longfellow heard in those bells one hundred thirty-seven years ago. More importantly it brings us back to the meaning of Christmas and the answer to how the angels could state that the birth of Jesus would bring this peace.


The story of Christmas isn’t the whole story. In fact it isn’t even the start of the story. The story starts with Adam and Eve in the book of Genesis. The story starts with things the way they should be. It begins with shalom. Then the serpent, and the lies, and separation of man from his Creator. Then several chapters of some pretty messed up people trying to get back to God. Thousands of years go by and shalom isn’t ever fully reached. The separation of God and His creation is mended by sacrifice, and broken by lies. And so the cycle goes. Then one day there were shepherds standing out by thy flocks at night, and suddenly…

Suddenly the angels appear. Suddenly everything is different. Suddenly the great gulf fixed between man and God has a way across. The first act is the Old Testament (and you thought the prologue in Fellowship of the Rings was drawn out). The second act is the Nativity and the life of Christ. The third act is the death and Resurrection of our Lord and Savior.

Ephesians 2:13-14 states: But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ. For He himself is our peace. Second Thessalonians 3:16 states: Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way. The Lord be with all of you.

This peace that we seek must come from God. As humans we can love, we can create, we can bring justice, we nurture, and we can even reconcile that which is broken into a state of newness. But we can NOT generate peace. Just as grace is something wholly given by God to man, so is peace. This is why it is so hard to find peace (whether it is lack of war, inner peace, or even peace between man and God). Because it doesn’t come from us. It can’t come from us. It can only come from Christ. It can only come if God enters our world. It can only come from a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying a manger. It can only come from a deity wrapped in veils of flesh and hanging on a cross.

And the Christmas message of peace is even greater than “without Christmas there is no Easter.” For the baby born to Mary and Joseph was not the start of the story. It was the climax, the resolution. The birth of Jesus, Emmanuel (my favorite name of Christ by the way), is literally the first time since the garden that peace has come to earth.

And to that, I add my voice to the angels and sing, “Glory to God in the highest!”

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

*Yes, I know I am 32, but being born in September my first Christmas was before my first birthday, and thus when I was one it was my second Christmas, and so on... Also I "saw" Star Wars (A New Hope) in vitro, but that is another story for another day.

More than we see

I think we see in each other more than we ever see in ourselves.

A few months back I drew a picture for a friend of mine. It was a farewell present as he moved on from the camp where we (and I still do) worked to a new chapter in his life. I was quite happy with how it turned out, and I did put quite a bit of work into. Since then I have constantly been requested and encouraged to do more works of art.

Here is the thing, I can't draw very well. I can doodle. I am learning to play with colors to add shading and depth, but I can't just up and draw anything I want and have it look like I want it to. I certantly am not at a point where I could make any kind of living with my skills.

Yet those I work with see me as someone with a greater level of skill in drawing than I actually possess. This can be frustrating at times, as it is hard to convince people that I actually know my limits.

Yet limits are tricky things. Watch a kid cry before they jump off a zip line platform, or a sixth grader try and climb a rope ladder, slip, hit the ground, and immediately get back up and try again, and you quickly learn that limits are not set in stone. (Don't tell anyone, but I think I have learned more from the campers than I have taught to them.)

Nearly eleven months ago, I left Grace Community Church.
Grace and Community are two concepts that I have struggled to understand, struggled to know, struggled to live, and struggled to give my whole life to.

When I was in high school I thought I didn't "need" grace, and was convinced that I didn't deserve community or at least that no one would want me in their group. Then the Lord called me on a short term missions trip to England, and I learned just how wrong my theology was.

As I prepared to come to ARCG, my understanding of Grace was being renewed in my life. And the understanding of Community was being refreshed and expanded upon. I don't fully know what Community truly means. I know that it is essential for the life of the Christian. I know that Paul's analogy of the Church as a body is deadly accurate. I know that I am constantly grateful that I don't live isolated, that I don't struggle alone, I don't have victories by myself, that my burdens and trials are not mine alone to carry.

I am grateful that others see in me more than I see in myself.

It is offical I need a car

I have missed church the last two weeks in a row. Both due to my own mistakes.

Last week I didn't set my clock ahead, and missed my ride to church. He was leaving, and I was rolling over after looking at the clock, thinking, "I don't have to get up for another hour."

This week, mass miscommunication, that is all my fault. Normal ride to church is out of town (with his car), back up ride to church was going to early service. Another guy at work said he could give me a "ride tomorrow." He was referring to social event of the season, which is happening tonight. (Its a birthday celebration for three friends from work, at a bouncy house park like thing.) I thought (and no reason to, as he has started to attend a different church) he meant church-why I don't know-my desire to find a ride to the later service was apparently so strong I made a huge assumption. And yes I know what happens when one assumes.

So now I am dressed in my Sunday best, with no place to go, for the second week in a row.

The worst thing is that I grabbed an application to work in the Children's Ministry at my church, and haven't been able to turn it in for two straight weeks. I am thinking I might have to wait until I have the ability to get there on my own before I commit to being there on a regular basis.

So, I am now off to listen to an archived Grace at Night sermon (same thing I did last week).

--Jesse Letourneau
Serving Him with you just from a little farther away

Mysterious Ways

So last time we chatted about Grace Community and how much I loved it. And how uber involved I was with the ministries there. The two that were closest to my heart were the midweek Kids' Clubhouse (kinda a mix of VBS, AWANA, and small groups) and the Sunday Night GraceKids! (Children's church for the eveneing service).

Now I was by no means the central part to either ministry, and the vision and passion came from others who I admire and aspire to emulate both in my ministry as well as my private life. However, for the midweek program my responsiblity was the Bible lesson for the week, and for Sunday nights I was responsible for the entire time every other week. So when I left Grace Community, there were some holes that needed to be filled.

No one stepped up, I believe, beacause God had a better idea in mind. The goal of Clubhouse was to capture as much of the energy and creativity of VBS as possible in a weekly meeting. Three of the people responsible for the energy and creativity of VBS were the three who were the other half of Sunday nights. So the obvious (I say obvious, because seeing it happen now it makes absolute perfect sense, but I would never have thought it up) solution, combine the two.

GraceKids! has now become Kids' Clubhouse, and Kids' Clubhouse now has the extra support and energy it needs. It was a real peanut butter in my choclate, choclate in my peanut butter idea.

God is awesome in how he moves and grows His church. The apostle John is exiled (doesn't seem good) we get the book of Revelation. David Bayne goes to mission field and leaves quite a few leadership roles open at Grace Community Church. God brings in the right people to build on and expand the work of God that David had laid the foundation for.

And in a similar fashion, but not in the same magnitude, I am called away from Children's Ministry at Grace, and God provides an awesome solution for not one, but two ministries.

I just want to say, God is awesome!

--Serving along side all of you, just from further away
--Jesse Letourneau

ramblings

Good Morning All (or afternoon, or night, or whenever you are reading this),

I am up to go to my bank to deposit my paychecks that came before my direct deposit got set up. The bank doesn't open for another hour, so you all get to read my rambling thoughts instead.

When I was first offered this job, I wasn't sure it was the right deal for me. Of course that was six years ago. A good friend of mine came to camp six years ago to work as a Naturalist. He has been bugging me to apply for and later when he stepped into the role of Program head flat out offering me a job here. I ignored the offer, knowing that camp wasn't for me.

About six weeks ago my life finally hit bottom. Me and God were still good, but just about everything else was, well crap. I had a BA and post graduate accreditation, in the field I was positive I was called by God to work in, and yet I had no idea how to actually obtain a full time job in said field (the field is education for those of you joining us late). I wasn't able to make ends meet as the current budget crisis in CA has trickled down to severely cut sub jobs (at least in the district I was in). My life consisted mainly of sitting in front of the computer or the television, hoping/praying/wishing I would get a call so that I could work the next day.

The only positive in my life was my attendance and my service at Grace Community Church of Seal Beach. I know that no church is perfect, and I know that Grace is no exception, but it seems we do a lot of things really well, and the people I had contact with were doing the whole ministry thing for the right reasons. I love Grace, I have never been a part of a church where my needs to learn, grow, and minister were so completely met, and all of it was done with an unexplainable but certain presence of our God.

There is no way God would call me away from this church. No way I could survive without its ministries, without its people. Despite any struggles with jobs and money, I was convinced I was suppose to stay in Long Beach.

There was only one problem. I KNEW that God was preparing me to leave Grace of Seal Beach. Not because it wasn't a church full of his presence, not because it wasn't a good fit for me, but because I had begun to rely on God's blessings, and not on God. It is a fine line but it is a clear one, and one I knew in both head and heart I had crossed. That is not say that I was walking away from God or that I wasn't serving/praising/worshiping my Lord. It was that a typical Sunday for me consisted of more excitement over meeting with the people of God after the service than I was about meeting with God during.

I have never been one who easily worships God in spirit. Worshiping God in mind, that's fine, that's easy, that's built into my personality, but it takes effort for me to worship in spirit. Our Lord has instructed us to do both. Grace was a safe place were I was excited to be, but not one where I was growing in my faith like I needed to be, and more to the point it wasn't a place where I was being stretched.

Let me stop here, this isn't about Grace's programs or leadership or any shortcomings they have, this is about God moving ME to a new place. About specific things God wants to do in me. God was working through me at Grace, but I wasn't allowing Him to work in me.

I hate change. Hate it with a passion. The job situation hasn't been ideal for years, but it was always just enough. Just enough to keep me indoors, fed, and living close enough to be involved at Grace, that is all I wanted. That is all I thought I needed. Many of you know I have been trying to get a full time teaching gig for a while. Well honestly, outside of Bellflower and Long Beach, I didn't really want to teach anywhere else. Anywhere else would be too far for me to be so involved with Grace. Anywhere else would involve change. So I never really tried like I should have to find a classroom in any other district.

I feel like I could have applied for a teaching gig outside of my comfort zone (ie Long Beach), and that may very well have been in God's plan for me. If I had listened to His prompting, if I had been braver and more ready for change, I may be exactly what I always thought I would be. But even then, I think, that would have been more about what I want, and just as easily a situation where I relied on the goodness of God, to exclusion of relying solely on God.

So instead, my world stopped. Money was finally a big enough issue, and I knew I had to take action, I had to change. But how? That I honestly didn't know.

One day I was putting around on facebook. Ben Maki popped up. He offered me a job. I considered it. Everyone else was excited about the opportunity. I prayed about it, slept on it, and one week later I was on a plane headed for Northern California. Not in a million years did I think I would be living at camp. Sure going to camp is awesome. Even as a leader at camp, your responsibilities are getting kids to and from meals, to and from activities, and then to sleep at night. Granted the last one can be a little tricky, but still not like what I do now.

I have to set up and tear down zip lines, I have make sure I know the trails even in the dark, I have be responsible and knowledgeable about how a camp works and all its moving parts. I have to remember which way the cabins are that are called "Birdland" are so if I have cabin check out duty I am in the right place. I have to tie knots correctly. None of this is my strong suit. None of this is stuff that comes easily.

ALL of these things are forcing me to rely on God for strength (often times literal physical strength-working those zip lines is harder than it seems). All of these things are forcing me to rely on others for help and information. Neither of those options are things that particularly thrill me.

I like to be independent, I like to use my gifts, I like to use my strengths. I would rather not even mention my weaknesses. Let alone stretch and grow and turn them into strengths so that I can do the job God has called me to.

But that is where I am. I am in a place where I must fully rely on God and others. Which is exactly where God wants us all. I am grateful that God isn't done with me yet, I am gratefully that I get to stretch, I am grateful that God doesn't leave the course of my life up to me and my ideals of happiness. None the less please keep praying for me.

I talked alot about Grace Community in this blog. Soon I will write another about some cool stuff that has happened that God is doing there.

Right now I need to get going to get to the bank in time.

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