Like Moses (aka Grapes part 1)

Below is an excerpt from a blog that was published on 5-19-11.

It is republished here as context for next week’s blog.

So when we last left our tale of my "heroes journey" I was back from Africa and reflecting on the lessons of that trip. Last night I found myself doing the same thing. Last night, I was reminded of God's call on my life to serve kids, to serve kids that have no one else.

…

I was accepted into North Park. I was denied the (Presidential) scholarship. So, now I am left holding pieces (of my life story) that don't fit together. Holding chapters with major plot holes. Holding onto fear that I will end up where I was two and half years ago. Praying to let go of fear and hold onto God. Knowing that the pieces do fit, just not in the way, just not in the time that I first thought.

This season is about waiting. This season is about risk.

Moses was called to go to Pharaoh and tell him to let the Hebrews leave Egypt. And what did Moses get for his obedience? Pharaoh mad at him, his countrymen made to work harder, and the Hebrew leaders upset with him for meddling in their affairs. If I was Moses I would be mad. I would be upset. I would be holding onto fear that maybe I imagined that flaming shrubbery, and this wasn't what God had for me.

But Moses went back. And Pharaoh said no. And Moses went back again, and Pharaoh said no. God was doing more than showing Moses about obedience and being used of God. God was dealing with Pharaoh, with the Hebrews, with Egypt, with promises made to Abraham, and with setting the tone for what would be the future of Israel. And in the end Moses and his people walked across dry land, while Pharaoh and his army did the dead man's float (Oh, baby let my people go, yeah, yeah, yeah, I said Oh baby...)

I have some pieces and I don't know how they all fit. I know one is a picture of me as Children's Pastor. I know that one is not me returning here to camp. I know that one is not returning home to live on a couch and nurse my emotional wounds.

I know that I have been accepted into North Park. I know that Chicago sounds like a great city. I know that North Park had programs to work with inner city kids. I know my heart for South Africa may be met, in some small way, by working with them.

I know that the piece with me as a Children's Pastor needs to be one I follow in obedience. I know that a degree can help this become a reality.

God showed me North Park. He never said that it would be free. He never said that it would be easy or comfortable or only take me two years.

Waiting and Risk. But waiting in the One who fulfills His promises. Taking risks with the One who fulfills all his promises.

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

--Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau

original post

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

The Last Four Months Part 1 and 2

So, it has been four months since I have put pen to paper. Well, it has been four months since I have blogged in a major way. So much has happened in the last four months I doubt it will all be put down here. So much has happened in the last three days, I don't yet know what it all means.

So when we last left our tale of my "heroes journey" I was back from Africa and reflecting on the lessons of that trip. Last night I found myself doing the same thing. Last night, I was reminded of God's call on my life to serve kids, to serve kids that have no one else.

On February 14, I had a discussion about our lives in Christ and how they are like a puzzle. However, we aren't always given a view of all the pieces at one time. Sometimes where you think a certain piece fits into the story isn't where it belongs at all. Sometimes you have pieces, yet you have no clue how they fit into the masterpiece God is weaving, and you just have to wait. This season was about waiting.

Sometimes you have a piece that you know fits, but you don't know where. You don't have the compliment to the piece. Sometimes you don't know how things are going to work out and you have to trust that the piece you have will connect to the rest in due time. Sometimes you have to follow the what even when you don't know the how. Sometimes you have to risk. The season was about risk.

On February 18, I went on a date with a co worker from camp. That date lead to a relationship. That relationship led to several pieces being handed to me. However, I assumed I knew where they went. I assumed that what I wanted, that the picture I would paint matched perfectly with what God had for me.

Just over eight weeks later we broke up. The pieces, the growth, the lessons, the truths, the time, the memories, the experiences, the treasure of each moment with her were all still there. Only now they looked different. They fit together differently. How they played into the picture was completely different.

I had taken risks and the end result was God letting me know that it was time once again to wait. Time to continue to be single. Time to rely on Him for who I am, rely on Him and nothing more, rely on no one else for how I see myself. Time again to wait.

In the middle of all this I was given yet another piece to my story. I was encouraged to apply to North Park Seminary in Chicago.

I am assured that I am a Children's Pastor. I simply do not yet have a church at which I serve full time. Going to North Park seemed to be the answer. Seemed to be the next step, the next piece, the next chapter. However, I have no money (well some, but compared to the cost of moving/living/and paying for school I have none).

When God calls, God provides. So I applied. I applied for the full tuition Presidential Scholarship.

I was accepted into North Park. I was denied the scholarship. So, now I am left holding pieces that don't fit together. Holding chapters with major plot holes. Holding onto fear that I will end up where I was two and half years ago. Praying to let go of fear and hold onto God. Knowing that the pieces do fit, just not in the way, just not in the time that I first thought.

This season is about waiting. This season is about risk.

Moses was called to go to Pharaoh and tell him to let the Hebrews leave Egypt. And what did Moses get for his obedience? Pharaoh mad at him, his countrymen made to work harder, and the Hebrew leaders upset with him for meddling in their affairs. If I was Moses I would be mad. I would be upset. I would be holding onto fear that maybe I imagined that flaming shrubbery, and this wasn't what God had for me.

But Moses went back. And Pharaoh said no. And Moses went back again, and Pharaoh said no. God was doing more than showing Moses about obedience and being used of God. God was dealing with Pharaoh, with the Hebrews, with Egypt, with promises made to Abraham, and with setting the tone for what would be the future of Israel. And in the end Moses and his people walked across dry land, while Pharaoh and his army did the dead man's float (Oh, baby let my people go, yeah, yeah, yeah, I said Oh baby...)

I have some pieces and I don't know how they all fit. I know one is a picture of me as Children's Pastor. I know that one is not me returning here to camp. I know that one is not returning home to live on a couch and nurse my emotional wounds.

I know that I have been accepted into North Park. I know that Chicago sounds like a great city. I know that North Park had programs to work with inner city kids. I know my heart for South Africa may be met, in some small way, by working with them. I know that the piece with me as a Children's Pastor needs to be one I follow in obedience. I know that a degree can help this become a reality. God showed me North Park. He never said that it would be free. He never said that it would be easy or comfortable or only take me two years.

Waiting and Risk. But waiting in the One who fulfills His promises. Taking risks with the One who fulfills all his promises.

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

--Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau

The story of my first date with Emily (for those of you who care):
I entered the Spring Semester here at ARCG, with the thought that I would do my job, look for churches to serve in full time Children's ministry, and then move on. That and nothing more.

I told God that I was happy to put aside the pursuit of finding someone to date of finding "that right one", and focus on my task here at camp. Focus on pursuing full time ministry. I have been single for the vast majority of my adult life. I have been on a handfull of dates, but never "dated" anyone. I have had countless friends tell me that God would bring me the right person as soon as I stopped looking.

I can't tell you how much I hated that advice. How do you turn off the part of you that knows "it is not good for man to be alone?" How do you stop wanting community at the most intimate level? How? To be honest, I could make a big deal about how I did just that. How I trusted God and his timing. How I finally stopped looking and rested in where I was. But, here is the problem. I never actually did that.

I stopped looking, because there was nothing left to seek. I looked around at my life at camp and my life at church and there was no one there who was a compliment to who I was. There were plenty of godly women around, but none were the right one for me.

So, I told God that I could wait. What other choice did I have?

This January I met a new coworker named Emily. She grew up in a Covenant Church (which just happens to be the denomination of the church I am attending). However, I always hesitate to offer rides to church because I am there for both services and I don't want anyone to have to wait around for me. Emily doesn't mind, in fact enjoys spending time alone. I started giving her a ride to and from church on Sundays. Our friendship grew out of these times together.

Roughly a month into the Spring Semester (and yes, Daria they are semesters), my roommate and I were discussing a retreat we went on last fall, and how there was a girl there from another camp who liked me. Which of course I was completely oblivious to. Only half joking, I asked him why he didn't tell me. He asked, if I wanted him to tell me when he saw these things. I told him I did.

"Pursue Emily" was the response.

The next couple of weeks I thought and prayed about my feelings for Emily, and what I should do. All the while paying attention to her, and noticing her smiling at me when she thought I wasn't looking, and laughing at my jokes that weren't funny.

It was during this time that Scott Peterson recomened I started looking at North Park Seminary. On the ride home I was sharing with Emily about the news. Our conversation allowed me to process what I thought about the idea. While, I was intially nervous about the change (I still am), I was also beginning to see how well North Park fit what God has for me.

Emily remarked, "I am really excited for you." That was the moment I knew I needed to invest in this girl. I knew that we liked each other, and that we were compatible, but I hadn't done anything out of the friend range at this point. The way she said it, though conveyed that she cared about me and my following God. She didn't try and scheme to keep me around. I knew that she had my best interests at heart (and her definition of my best interests, is me following God, which is an incredible thing).

So it took me another week to fall for her completely, and to decide, that even though I was possibly leaving camp soon, that a relationship with her was worth the risk.

We went to dinner on a Friday. We tried two places, but both were closed, so while driving in circles in the dark, and playing with my GPS, and making cracks about the Holy Spirit (guiding us) and being the Holy Spirit for each other (she was choosing the third place), and kinda flirting, we arrived at a little burger joint. It is owned by a Greek family and we got complimentary falafel!

We sat and talked, and told our stories (Okay, we all know I talked more than she did). We talked about God calling us to camp and danced around the issue in front of us.

On the drive home the following conversation took place:
Emily, "Can I ask an awkward question?"
Jesse, "Please do."
Emily, "Is this a date?"
Jesse, "I kinda hoped it was, and would be disappointed if it wasn't."
Emily, "I would be disappointed too."

Then I blabbed about how much I liked her (and may have scared her a little). We came home and hung out a little.

I walked her to her house and made a comment about awkward moments. She said how about a high five? I gave her a high five, and a side hug. Then went home.

Meanwhile...

...Back in Sunny Santa Rosa.

Sunday night is the night my small group meets. Last Sunday was also Halloween. To blend the two we had a Super Hero Summit. We had food and games, and everyone was required to come dressed as a super hero (if you didn't there were costumes assigned at the door).

You read that right, I got to come to church dressed as a super-hero. Church and super hero, same bat time same bat channel. But it gets better.

The 31st was my last Sunday in Santa Rosa, before leaving for two weeks for home, before leaving for four weeks for South Africa. I had already shared with the group about the trip, but wanted to drop off some support letters as prayer reminders for those who wanted them.

As there were a few of the heroes getting ready to leave early, I turned down the music just to let everyone know that the letters were on the front table, and that this would be my last Sunday for a while. Grammar Girl turned to High Maintenance and asked, "Should we pray for Jesse now?" I honestly didn't think that was going to happen, but I will take all the prayer I can get.

As some gathered around to lay hands on me, others stretched out their hands toward me. Zan of the Wonder Twins (aka Andrew Mark, who is one of the few guys I know who can rock purple pants)-said lets do this "super hero style." And he made a fist. Several others did the same. After a few quick fist bumps, the group began to pray over me, for my safety, for my health, for the relationships with the team, and the impact God will have through me in Capetown.

This may all sound silly or even stupid, but for me it was one of the most memorable commissioning services I have ever been at.

You see the Wonder Twins activate their power through physical touch. Granted no one in the room could leap tall buildings or melt things with their brain. But each one there carries a far greater power. The power of the resurrected Christ. As I sat there receiving the blessing that were being poured out on me, I opened my eyes and saw men and women in costume fists extended praying over me.

I thought about the power of four color guardians and how much it would mean for them to share their power with one another. I thought about how these men and women were in an odd way sharing their power with me. Praying to their all-powerful Father that I as I go out from among them that I would be filled with power to great things. Even greater than lifting a car or even moving a mountain. That I would he equipped to tell someone they are loved by the God who made them. To tell them they have been given a second chance by the God who loves them.

I know this sounds silly and even stupid, but like I said, for me it was the sweetest picture of what RCC means to me, what prayer means to me, and even what I am being called to do for those four weeks in Africa.

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

Cannonball Sunday

Sunday was Baptism Sunday at RCC (Redwood Covenant Church). After a really cool Children's lesson:


I went to "big people church" and was blessed beyond measure. The sermon started with a video of a child jumping into the baptismal. Hence the name of this blog and the Sermons title today.

Pastor Doug spoke on having an eagerness to get into the water. At RCC, we practice family baptism. There was a father who was baptized as a sign of his faith in Christ along with his children as a sign they where under his roof and would be raised in the faith. After the service, there was an invitation for anyone who wanted to baptized and hadn't done so to come down. No one came, the service ended, the worship team played, people chatted, and the sanctuary began to empty. Until more people came down to be baptized. Among them was the mother of the family who had been baptized earlier in the service. When asked why she wanted to be baptized, she said, "I am tired of fighting what has always been." It was amazing to see the faith of the father and the faith of the children used by God to bring another daughter of his to a public confession of her faith. To allow her to "stop fighting, and accept what has always been."

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

Rambling Road

Time for another not so regular, not so structured edition of what has been bouncing through my mind.

Last month, I heard a sermon on Luke 24, The Emaus Road. The analogy was given of when Jesus opening the eyes of His traveling companions to the plan of God to standing on a peak and looking back on the trail you have just walked. This is where it all becomes clear. This is where you can look and see every twist and turn and understand why they are there. This is where the path you just walked makes sense.

Fourteen years ago I sat in the bleachers of Forest Lake Christian School's gym and argued with God. Roughly six weeks ago I sat in an airport shuttle and tried to argue with God. The gym was my point A and the shuttle my current point B.

Way back in 1996, I was a high school senior who thought he had learned it all, seen it all, and done it all. Only I knew something was amiss. There was more to this God I served, yet it was just out of reach. And so I prayed. I prayed a prayer that I would have never prayed I had I known how it would have been answered, and yet have never regretted.

My prayer was simply this: "God I want to experience you in new ways. I want you to become real in my life." Like an incredibly slow mantra, this was my daily prayer for months. Then I met a man named Tom Ives. Tom was from Royal Servants, a short term missions organization. He was there to give the talk for our weekly chapel.

I have never felt the call to be an overseas missionary, so why would I need to go "practice"? (I have been on four short term trips, and am considering a fifth.) I had no real desire to listen to what Tom had to say. It wasn't going to apply to me. Besides "these guys" come and yell and scream and say the only way to be closer to God is to raise money and go on their trip. I wasn't buying what Tom had to sell. I sat down convinced this chapel would have nothing for me.

The first words he spoke were, "Do you want to experience God in a new way? Do you want Him to become real in your life?" The next 25 minutes were spent with me trying to convince God that He was mistaken. That this was not the answer to my prayer. I whined about schedules and money and languages, each time I thought I had outsmarted God, Tom's next sentence answered my exact "problem."

It was on this trip in 1996 that I first began Children's Ministry. I played with puppets, told stories, and saw kids make decisions to follow Christ. The next fourteen years were spent volunteering in one form of CM or another.

Then the lunch and the shuttle ride were the final pieces to the puzzle.

So here I stand, perched atop a vista, looking out over the last 14 years.

I see a whale lip syncing DcTalk. There is CEF and Good News Club, picking up helium tanks, and debating whether Santa Claus should be invited to our Christmas Party or not, frosting sugar cookies without the aid of a knife, songs and games and stories, verses and water fights, learning and teaching, and sometimes learning as I teach, adding shading to cartoon houses, and complaining about Ma's "cooking", there is a commissioning service involving a jester, a cake, and the title of Ambassador of Grace Kids to Alliance Redwoods. And there is singing Baby Shark and having lunch with Scott.

Very little of that means much to anyone but myself, but it is the path that has carried me this far. As I look back I see God equipping and guiding me. As I look up, I see a path not yet taken. One if I knew what it entails, I would never have asked for. A path that I am sure I will not regret.

Serving Him alongside you, just from a little further away,

--Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau

Choo Choo (or train of thought part 37)

I was going to title this Full Circle. A year and a half ago I was sitting on my couch watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer (by the season) and thinking, clearly I need a change. One facebook conversation and one phone call later, I was on my way up to Occidental to begin the adventure I am currently on.

Yesterday, I ditched church (Not a fan of crowds and Easter Sunday just seems so familiar to me that I don't get much out of it). Instead I drove down to SF to a comic book convention. It was good to be among "my people" again. To close out the evening I went to a sing-along screening of "Once More with Feeling" (the musical episode of Buffy). However, no major revelations came about so it's not really a full circle type thing.

The major revelation came two Thursdays ago over a lunch of poorly made Philly steak sandwiches. Scott Peterson, the Children's Pastor at the church I have been attending wanted to meet me with me about "being up front more." This was the best lunch I have ever had. And it wasn't due to the skimpy meat sandwiches. It was the moment that God used to flip the switch in my head.

God is calling me into full time Children's Ministry. Now a few of you are saying, "well duh, I thought you knew that." Others maybe totally shocked. Here is the thing. It was in talking with Scott that I realized I had the skills to do this ministry.

However, new things are scary, at least to me. So, as excited as I am about doing Children's Ministry, there is a lot that will be challenging to me.

Last Monday was the funeral service for my grandmother. (There may be a blog, but at least some pics on that sometime soon). Last weekend I went home for said service. Two ancillary activities of the trip brought mycalling into focus. The first was Three-Fold Communion at my home church in Seal Beach. The second was the shuttle ride from SFO to Santa Rosa.

If you don't know, Three-Fold is a potluck that ends with a Communion service and has a ceremonially foot washing in the middle. (yes cerimonally foot washing is a little weird-that's a blog for another day.) After the washing, the washer and the washee embrace (at least that is the tradition at my church). Then there is some hymn singing and some sharing.

I sat next to Mr. Enyart. The Enyart clan , have been a big part (there are like six kids) of Children's Ministry at Grace during the years I was there. (Three of them are now in high school and college and are going on the HS mission trip. random side note: sweet little innocent Michelle who I have known since she was six turned sixteen on Sunday. It was good time at home among family and friends, but it also made me realize just how long I had been doing CM.)

Where was I? Oh, right, Mr. Enyart shared how myself and others had been instrumental in the development of his children's faith. I was absolutely floored. Parents make the kids who they are. God changes their lives and makes them awesome servants for His kingdom. (and the Enyart kids are awesome servants). I just point them to God and sing goofy songs. For someone else, and a parent at that, to see me have an impact on his chidren's lives, showed me that God has equipped me for and wants to use me in CM.

Here is the thing. I see my sin. I see my failure. And I stay there. I think God can't use me. As long as I can remember people have been telling me that I should, assuming that I would, go into ministry. But that is a risk, and risk involves failure, and failure is uncomfortable. But without risk there is no growth. The last year plus I have learned that risk is okay. And more importantly I have learned that God isn't interested in my perfection but in my availability. After all it is not me who does the work. It is simply God using me. So, that is the short version of the conversation God and I had on the shuttle ride home from SFO.

I have a ton of pictures to share. From both the memorial and from the con, as well as some from just around camp.

Okay, this train is more than long enough. Catch ya next time.

Work in Progress

March is half over and I haven't written since February. I have had a ton on my mind, but nothing concrete. So instead of a beautifully crafted essay on my job (like this one) or a funny list from my awesome adventure (like this one). You get the promised, I will write more even if it is train of thought and only makes sense to me blog.

I feel like I should be writing about St. Patty's day or March Madness. Or maybe something spiritual like Lent. However, none of these things are on my radar.

The only thing on my mind these days is "what do I want to be when I grow up?" "And where should I attend church?" Questions that make me feel like a high school senior. Questions that when I was a high school senior I had all figured out.

I was going to be a high school history and Bible teacher. I was going to be Mr. Wickstrom (that is I wanted to be just like my high school history teacher). I was good enough and I was smart enough. Then God reminded me that I was neither, so long as I was striving for things of this world under my own power.

Slowly over the next decade or so, God gave me a passion and a gifting for elementary classrooms and Children's Ministries. And there is where I want to go. Only I don't know how. Okay, that is a lie. I know how, I am just terrified of falling on my face. I am terrified of doing it wrong. Or worse, doing it well and having responsibilities and expectations that take away from my ability to fall asleep watching Spider-Man for the fourteenth time. Basically. it is not a matter of not knowing what I want to do when I grow up, but not really wanting to grow up.

I am not sure if I have gone into great length about journeys and destinations on this blog, but I know I mentioned that for a long time I was seeking/wishing for the destination without the journey. I have come to learn that not only can you not arrive at the destination without the journey, but that it means nothing without it. So, I want to take the journey. Kind of.

Last year (and really the year before) God was teaching me about community. And not that I have mastered the lesson (do we ever fully grasp what God has for us), this year the focus seems to be on exploration. Stepping out into the unknown. Taking a risk. Faith.

My faith is so small. I have seen God work in incredible ways, and yet I constantly wonder if this time He can really do all He said He would.

This time is different, this time is important.

Then He reminds me of His goodness, I trust (at least for a while), and all is well with me and my Redeemer. Faith is not my greatest gifting. Faith is not where I excel in my walk with Jesus. Thankfully, all it takes is the faith of a mustard seed (or even the faith of a Redwood seed-man those giant trees come from the smallest seed).

Thankfully, it is not I who accomplish God's work, but God who accomplishes God work. Thankfully, I get a front row seat and am reminded again of his love, grace, provision, power, acceptance....

So what brought all this on? Two simple acts really. One was Saturday afternoon, the other was this afternoon.

I have been going to a church here in Santa Rosa where I love the children's ministry, but am not challenged by the sermons. I can't plug into the fellowship there, because I don't have a car, so it is hard to commit to anything. Plus, it appears that the post college Bible study has become more of a small group(s), and I just don't have the time for that right now. I need the flexibility to miss a week if job, chance to hang with work friends, flat out need to nap crop up (as they do in this job). So, if it is so bad, why not go somewhere else?

I have also been attending a church that constantly challenges me both on Sunday mornings and during the Saturday night Bible study (going through First Corinthians and John respectively). The Bible study has a "built in" community to it, and is exactly what I need. I know that where ever God has me on Sundays, He has me there on Saturdays.

But here is the problem. Just when, literally only days before, I decide that I am going to commit to the second fellowship, I attend one last activity at the church with the awesome Children's Ministry.

Kind of a farewell, thanks for allowing me to be a part of it. Now mind you, I haven't spoken of this decision to anyone. Only God and I know that for now, I need to lay down Children's Ministry and focus on my personal growth. The activity was once a sleep over event, and is now "merely" activities from 4 to 9 pm. So to make a short story long, everything changed (for me) on Saturday evening at around 5:20pm.

I had to leave the event early, so that I could make it for dinner/Bible study at the second church. Early in the evening, the Children's Pastor was scheduled to get on stage and sing a camp song (Baby Shark, for those of you familiar with the genre).

However, he was busy elsewhere so I jumped on stage and sang it instead (after all, I work at a camp, I'm paid to sing these songs with large groups of kids). Everyone was really impressed (apparently I am a quiet guy who comes alive on stage) with the song as well as the game we played next (which felt like a bad Nickelodeon sketch, but the kids loved it).

So back to 5:20pm. The kids have just started eating their dinner, the volunteer dinner is being served, and I am ready to take off. I find the Children's pastor to let him know. And he says, "Thanks for your help. We really have to get you up front more, even on Sundays." Now, I don't know exactly what this means, and I still don't have a reliable ride to Sunday mornings, but even the chance of really getting involved, or learning and growing in ministry really has me excited. This is where my passion is, this is where my gifting is. This is where I want to be. I am even thinking about applying for a position, somewhere as a Children's Pastor.

And yet,

Today, I worked on straightening my room. The goal was two fold. Find my watch-no idea where the stupid thing went-and yes it ran off, I didn't loose it- and find my letters of rec, resume, credential, etc, so that I can honestly and earnestly start to look for classroom positions. What did I do instead?

I fell asleep watching Spider-Man for the fifteen time.

I was going to work some Muppet Babies quotes in here, but instead I would ask that you all join in prayer as I decide what path I want to pursue. And for courage to open the doors of paths that are a little bit scary.

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

random thoughts

• The forgiveness of God doesn't simply restore us to the way we were before, but to the way we were meant to be.
• The genesis of Sesame Street was a father wondering aloud if television could be used to teach preschool aged children.
• The Watchmen book is better than the film.
• Same with Prince Caspian.
• Ditto for the Passion of the Christ.
• The Muppet Movie never gets old.
• Disney has DVDs where the commentary isn't simply a rehash of the info learned on the making of documentaries.
• I am now a volunteer for Redwood Kids 
• The main puppet characters at Redwood are named Sven and Ollie.
• When I was a kid, the pastor of my church often told Sven and Ollie jokes.
• I can't believe the good fortune I have had in finding a church/small group.
• This is the fourth time the first church I attended has been the church I made my home church (high school, college, Grace, and now here). In the case of Grace and Redwood Covenant Church (aka RCC) they were not only the first church I attended, but the only church.
• I am contracted to stay at camp through the summer
• I won't make it home for VBS =(
• I am trying to find another, less busy week, to visit Long Beach.
• The act of Jesus kneeling to wash the disciples feet (John 13) is also an act of lifting them up.
• The God who made the cosmos, stripped down, wrapped a towel around himself, and washed the feet of the disciples. Showing not only an example of service, but one of giving worth to those men, an act that would be repeated and magnified as He died on the cross in our place.
• There were no guests (not counting three families of co-workers) this weekend, so that means we don't have to pick up trash before work this morning. (We usually pick Friday afternoon after the kids leave and again Monday or Tuesday after weekend guests leave and before the kids arrive.)
• The fifteen minutes I had before work have now been filled by this list.

Be a Hypocrite

This week's message at church was how we as Christians need to be hypocrites. Seriously.

The passage was from Ephesians 5:
Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children ²and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

The point made was this. The origin of the word hypocrite used in Ephesians comes from Greek plays. The actors would take on the look and the attributes of another. This was done without pretense. That is to say they never claimed to be the person they were acted as. As Christians we are to imitate God, but never claim to be Him.

Clearly, I am not God, but that doesn't mean I can't take on His attributes. It doesn't mean that even as a broken sinful person I can't be patient, kind, and forgiving. And it doesn't mean that being patient, kind, and forgiving makes me God. Under the facade I am still a broken person. But therein lies the good news!

I am broken, and yet I am being made into a new creation. I am fallen and sinful and selfish, yet I have learned and continue to learn how to care for others more than myself, how to care for others instead of myself. The good news of the Scriptures is that all of us are imperfect, but that God has redeemed us and is molding us into perfection.

I am not better than the person who sees the veneer, who sees in me the attributes of God. I was just shown where the mask and cape were first. But there is another mask, there is another cape, there is another opportunity to be changed from who we are into who we were meant to be.

The hypocrisy we see in the Church is that as we put on the attributes of God, we think that it makes us holy, that it makes us better than those without. Remember, we have these treasures in jars of clay. We aren't the main attraction. We are just the vessels showing the love and forgiveness of God to others.

So then why can't "anyone' just pick up the attributes of God, or the attributes of Mohamed, or Buddha, or just be a good person?

 The answer lies in the first chapter of Ephesians:

³Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. ⁴For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love ⁵he predestined us to be adopted as his sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— ⁶to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. ⁷In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace ⁸that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. ⁹And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, ¹⁰to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment—to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ.

¹¹In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, ¹²in order that we, who were the first to hope in Christ, might be for the praise of his glory. ¹³And you also were included in Christ when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation. Having believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, ¹⁴who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God's possession—to the praise of his glory.

We are sealed by the Holy Spirit. It is the Spirit of God that ensures me that I am being made into a new creation that will, one day, be perfected. It is the Holy Spirit that enables me to live a life of patience, kindness, and forgiveness. Remember, I am broken. I need God to make me more than I am.

--Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau

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

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

PICS and SUCH

Pics: maybe delayed a tad. I have like 170 on my camera (thanks again Stephens). But I have to find a comp to dump em on, before I can post.

Weather: It is chilly but unseasonably dry. We had a couple of days of rain, but its been clear most days. It is in the 50s, but with layers and a good coat I have been fine.

Church: Only been here two weeks, and have been to the same church in the AM, and the same "small group" in the PM-both on Sunday. AM is interesting as the church is currently between pastors (of course they have grown by 250 people during this time-so its obviously a church that is very much alive. There is a group that goes to lunch after AM services, but I miss Charo and Athen's West. The small group is 30-40 people, and its the 25-35 crowd. Intimate singing led by some super talented people (its no "Micheal Stephens Worship Experience" but it will have to do), and then a short less on Isaiah. That's right we are going through the book of Isaiah. And backwards at that. I came in on the second week, and the focus has been on Isaiah and how it applies to the concepts of Christ, Messiahship, and our salvation. Kinda digging it so far.

I may shop around just to see what else is out there. Only two other staff are at this church, and I am not sure if that is ideal or not, just yet. I am thinking of going to the church of the NBA next week. I haven't been yet this season.

Questions: Not sure what else to tell you. More training this week, and the kids show up next week. So what do you wanna know? Give me a topic for the next blog.