CSA 2010

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Africa the first five days

November 18, 2010

Long Beach Airport

As I Sit

As I sit in the airport ready to embark on my fourth overseas and fifth overall missions trip, I reminded once again of the journey that life is. I am reminded of those places in time that we occupy through circumstance and choice, luck and obedience, fortune and misfortune. I am reminded of the places my life in God has taken me. I am reminded of the story that God is writing.

I know I just mixed metaphors there, but maybe life is more than just a simple trip, maybe it is a journey with a specific goal, a destiny wrapped in the destination. Maybe life is the hero’s journey.

As I sit here in the airport I am wearing the last clean, unpacked t shirt I had, a baby blue tee emblazoned with the face of the comic book hero named Captain America. 

As I sit, I realize that I am a hero on a hero’s quest. My journey is ever rambling, ever winding. Sometimes my Author works in themes, sometimes the tale is episodic. Like the comics I read as a kid (okay, which I still read), sometimes there are years between plot threads and their resolution, years between events and their connection to the story being woven.

As I sit waiting to go and do God’s work, I am reminded that I am a hero. My power doesn’t come from a red sun, a chemical accident, or even an alien suit. My power comes through Christ as I die to myself. As I give from my tiny amount of fish and my moldy bread, as I watch the One who drew me from the pits turn it all into a feast at His table where all are welcomed, I am humbled and excited.

As I sit waiting for my plane, I know that a new chapter is about to begin. A new lesson, a new adventure, the same journey.

November 21, 2010

Stanfontain, South Africa

Curiouser and Curiouser

On the plane ride from JFK to Johannesburg I listened to Tim Burton’s score to the recent re-imagining of Alice in Wonderland. Having arrived here in Stanfontain, I fell more like I have arrived in Underland than in South Africa. My hero’s journey has turned topsy turvy. I feel lost and unable to navigate. I feel out of place and yet called to this land. I feel as though I am trying to find my “muchness”; to find the real me.

I shared with Mike Stephens the night before I began this journey, that I felt called to CSA as a leader. Having been on other trips and having been brought to a place of healing, I assumed that I would be the one who was comfortable, the one who was confident, the one who would lead.

I rode on four different planes before landing in Capetown yesterday. Beyond the disorientation of twenty-four plus hours of travel, time changes, and jet lag, I was fighting a bad case of motion sickness and constipation (too much info?). I didn’t really feel like reaching out, like giving of myself.

After settling in, the team walked down to the beach under a cloud covered sky filled with misting rain. We were told that it would be ninety plus degrees our entire time here.

On our way back to base camp we walked through a squatter camp. I had seen similar conditions when I visited Johannesburg in 2001. During that trip God began in me a heart that desires to see South Africa made whole. Yet on this afternoon, whether it was the jet lag or the weather, I felt very little.

I didn’t approach anyone. I didn’t engage or even smile at the children who ran barefoot through the township. I simply walked along, trailing behind my team, keeping a cynically watchful eye out for the team.

After wards we drove a short way to the township of Bonneville. Bonneville is the place where our team leader Mervyn grew up. It is the site of the very first CSA in 2002. During our time there, I watched as my teammates fearlessly engaged the children. I watched as children swung from the arms and hung from the necks of my teammates. I watched as tiny black hands braided the blond hair of my teammate Gillian. I watched as others prayed with the adults of the community. Then I noticed the South African team had formed a dance circle.

I watched as the youth of South Africa reached down to bless the children of Bonneville. The team cheered on the kids as they showed us their moves. As I stood there still disoriented, still unsure of where I was, beginning to doubt why I was there, a little one came up to me with his arms stretched upward.

Soon I too was covered with kids; one on each hip and a third on my shoulders. Somehow, the dance circle turned into a praise circle. As we sang and danced, the misty rain that had dampened my spirits broke. It was replaced with a double rainbow that stretched to both ends of the horizon.

With my jet lag and my fears, I still haven’t fully processed what that day means. However, what I recall is a scene where the rainbow framed the tin shacks of the township; both framing the children as they sang praise to their Creator.  As I look back on that moment with God’s beauty as the backdrop to a scene cast by the effects of man’s ugliness, yet altered by the joy of the redeemed-I know the entire trip was worth it, if only for that one moment in time.

However, that moment now seems like a distant dream. Like Alice I can’t quite grasp the memory. That moment in Underland that was unique and frightening and wonderful, now seems so distant and unreal. Was that rainbow truly there? Was I really schooled by the gifts and talents of the South Africans that I thought I had come to teach? Was I yet again reminded of how big my God truly is?

And more than trying to remember, trying to recapture, I wonder what God has for me. I came with the idea of being a leader. In the van on the way from the airport to base camp we were met by Khaya, Caleb, and Romano. They are three South Africans who were once CSA campers and are now in their third year as CSA leaders. Since they are the veterans, they joked that they were in charge. After what I saw yesterday, I am willing to follow.

I shared with Caleb that I was encouraged by the South African team and their willingness to just jump in and begin. He responded, “Hey man, we are all one team!”

It is an odd place to be, to not be the one that instantly sparks to kids, and even more than that to not be the one the kids instantly spark to. I am curious to see just how far down the rabbit hole this journey will take me.

November 23, 2010

Glen Carin

Further Up and Further In

I still feel like I am in Underland, but I didn’t want to title this entry “Down the Rabbit Hole.” It feels a little overplayed. 

However, I continue to travel to new places each one unique and wonderful. I continue to meet new characters. Rather than creatures who speak in nonsense rhyme, I am meeting those who have been made New Creations that speak with the poetry of the King Most High. They share with me what I can barely take in.

Yesterday my hero’s quest led me to Manenburg. Manenburg is a township that is notorious for gang activity. Within the township there stands a beacon of light known as the City of Refuge. City of Refuge is a church led by a man of vision named Pastor Woody. Manenburg was once completely dominated by gangs. Things were so bad that when turf wars would break out the government simply closed off the streets to contain the bloodshed. Today the church is reclaiming the township.

Pastor Woody doesn’t want his church to be a place where the gospel is preached. He wants his church to be a place where the gospel is lived. City of Refuge feeds the neighborhood children, trains and equips women to make fair trade handbags, and owns a store front to raise funds. The church is open every day as a place to find a meal or simply a moment’s rest. Pastor Woody brings in converted drug addicts and gang members to live on the church grounds. They are taught and discipled before they begin an active role in the ministry outside the church walls. City of Refuge is designed to be a place where one finds healing before they are sent back out to bring others in. 

Yesterday morning the team rose early to arrive at the City of Refuge. We served porridge (soup thin oatmeal) and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to the little ones of Manenburg so that they might have some nourishment in their bellies before heading off to school.

Today where once there stood a bar that was controlled by the gangs, there now stands a room where children recite the Lord’s Prayer and are fed a simple breakfast.

November 23, 2010

Glen Carin

Words Louder than Actions

Today we went to Merv’s old high school. When we left the states we were told we would be holding an assembly for over eight hundred students. By the time we arrived in South Africa we were told that we would only have two hundred students. This week is final exams and students who do not have tests that day are not required to attend school. 

There are some politics and some petty arguments between the alumni association and the school’s principal, but that isn’t the important thing right now. The outcome of it all was the two hours we were told that we had with the students was reduced to forty five minutes or so. Our plans were thrown out the window.

The focus of this trip was for Merv to share who he is and where he came from. The focus was to be what is quickly becoming the theme of this year’s trip: HOPE. Merv is an extraordinary man of God, however he does not have a very loud speaking voice. The challenge would be for the soft spoken Merv to hold the attention of two hundred plus high schoolers sitting in an outdoor quad without the aid of any electronic amplification.

I have never seen a group of people so in tune with the speaker. Merv had the crowd from his first joke to the alter call. The Lord definitely played a sweet tune through the instrument named Mervyn Coteeze this afternoon. But the work was not yet done.

The team was invited to pray with the Alumni Association after the rally. Each person thanked us for coming today. Each one said that they have been trying to show the school that they care, that they want to reach back and help the students and help the school. They said that what we did today finally showed the administration the kind of thing that could happen. They even mentioned that all the head butting over the scheduling allowed for problems to be identified and addressed before they became larger and more difficult to handle.

I am beginning to think that this trip is not about the team coming and giving of our gifts and talents as much as it is about us coming along side those already at work here in Africa. 

My devo Spot at Glen Carin

November 24, 2010

Glen Carin

Spies Like Us

I am going to take a break from the narrative of my journey here in South Africa to discuss the character who has impacted me the most this far.

The Scriptures tell the story of man named Caleb. Caleb along with Joshua and ten other men were sent to the land of Canaan to spy on its armies. Ten came back afraid. “The problem is too big!” was their cry. However, Caleb and Joshua saw what was not yet as though it was. They knew the size and strength of the army they would soon be facing could surely crush the Israelites. Yet, they also knew God. They knew that God would keep His promises and give them the land.  They saw what was not yet, as though it was.

Here in Africa I have met another man named Caleb. His mane is Caleb Mohamed and his name tells his story. 

Caleb Mohamed the man who knows South Africa belongs to God

Caleb is the son of a single mother who grew up in the Islamic faith. She became a Christian a short time before Caleb was born. To protect herself and her child she gave Caleb his Islamic surname and kept her conversion a secret from the rest of her family. In spite of her best intentions her secret did not last. For his safety, Caleb’s mother moved him to a farming community to be raised by people who were not his parents. After some time Caleb’s mother was able to join him, and they moved again.

They landed in a place called the Ark. The Ark, as best as I can describe it, is a combination of Women’s shelter, orphanage, and boarding school. Caleb heard Bible stories in his classes, but never put them into action. A teacher who saw Caleb’s potential suggested he join an organization called the Royall Rangers (Royal Rangers is a Christian Scouting program in South Africa). 

Through Royal Rangers Caleb met people his age who loved the Lord. It was through meeting them that Caleb gave his life to Christ. This is by no means the end of Caleb’s story.

Caleb struggled with anger and bitterness. He wondered why he was dealt the life he was given. As Caleb grew older the Lord provided answers for his questions. As Caleb grew older the Lord grew him into a young man who is not ashamed of where he comes from. 

South Africa faces its own giants. Caleb is a young man who reaches back and invests into the lives of the youth of South Africa. A young man who sees what is not yet as though it is.

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

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

Ariving at Destination part two

The weekend of October 15-17 I was lucky enough to go to a conference for Christian Camping. I took a ton away from that time. A renewed focus on student lead teaching. A realization that I belong to a larger community of Christian camping. The reminder of the beauty of God's creation. The reminder of the beauty of relationships. And a confirmation that I work with wonderful, open and honest, and God-fearing people.

Oh, I also ended up on a free guided tour of Yosemite!

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

--Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau

(as always click on pics to make em bigger)

Arriving at Destination part one

I have long thought it would be cool if there was a GPS for life.

"Turn Left Ahead." Take this Job." "Avoid crazy girl approaching" and of course "Arriving at Destination." ah, Destination, the journey's end. I have always been more about the where than the why. Maybe it's because I can get car sick even if I am driving. Maybe it's because getting there takes work, and I would rather avoid work. Maybe getting there takes pain, and I assume I have had enough of that for one lifetime. Maybe it's because the journey is about growth, and growth implies that one is getting stronger and better. And maybe for too long I saw myself as unworthy of being better.

Whatever the case, I am slowly learning to look around me and enjoy the view, enjoy the journey, and even enjoy the pain and growth, and maybe even to accept the fact of my worth. The thing that makes any destination, any journey, and really any thing worth the effort is the people you are traveling with.

God has underscored my journey, my growth, and my worth three times in the last five weeks. Each time He did so at a camp. Each time he used the people who have stood along side me.

September 24-26 was a crazy weekend for me. Here at Alliance, we hosted a Men's Advance (cause guys retreat enough on their own). A thousand little moments that weekend, some good, some bad, some big, some minuscule, some echoing faith that can move mountains, some that I am smart enough not to commit to writing, all led to the Saturday night sermon.

The cliff notes version is that men in this country are absent. Fathers in this country are absent. Boys do not have a ceremony, a time, a rite, where someone sits them down and tells them what it means to be a man. Where someone sits them down ans tells them that they are a man. At the end of the service, an invitation was sent for those who felt the need to mark the truth of being a man, and even more than that being a man of God was extended. The other men in the room came forward and prayed over us.

I am a 33 year old guy (no longer a boy, but never embracing my manhood), who was raised from the age of 12 by a single mother. The idea of having someone speak those words to me (and don't get me wrong, my mom is awesome, and there have been a thousand father figures in my life, I have learned from the church what being a man is) as a novel concept isn't horribly shocking.

What is shocking, what is appalling, is that to my left and my right, and filling three rows behind me sat men who had never had this done for them. Men in their 30s as well. And men in their 40s, and 50s, and 60s. How the hell does the church allow someone to become a grandfather, yet the idea of marking their time from boyhood to manhood is a new one to them? How has the Church, how have we as men, failed the body, how have we failed each other? Let's hit pause for a second, because I want to come back to this, but first I need to explain what was happening in me that night.

That night I was healed. That night all of the zip-lines, and sea cave kayaking, and ski lessons, and movie nights, and simple words of encouragement, all my time at ARCG, all my time in CM at Grace, all my time at Simpson, all the encouragement of friends and family over my 33 years, finally made sense, complete and total sense. I saw fully (or at least more fully, cause grace isn't a concept I will fully unpack in this lifetime) the person others had seen in me. I was commissioned by man that night, but my spirit was spoken to by God.

He told me that I was a man, and that I no longer needed to serve as broken and lonely, but that He had made me into a man of God, a man with gifts, talents, and passions that would be able to reach out to the men, the guys, and the boys I so desperately want to tell of the wonders of grace. I now no longer serve being able to only put my arm around those I serve, and share in their pain. I now can help them up to where I am. I can pull them up, because God has made me whole, and I stand above, not better than, but healed.

That day my son, I became a man.

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

--Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Dear friends and family,

I am finishing up my second year here at Alliance Redwoods.      many of you know the Lord recently placed on my heart the desire to go into full time church children’s ministry. Until that particular calling comes to fruition, I am happy to say that I have found a home here among the Redwoods. I enjoy my job and am blessed to be working with people who inspire and challenge me each and every day. I have also found a church and a small group that do the same.

Through the camp, I have taken the opportunity to join a team of Americans (along with two “South African-Americans”) who will be meeting with a team of South African nationals to bring hope to youth in and around the Cape Town area. The ministry is known as Camp South Africa or as it is affectionately labeled CSA. We will be working in schools, churches, prisons, and parks. Our mission can be summed up in our desire to bring fun for the spirit, food for the body, and hope for the soul. We hope to accomplish these goals through songs, games, stories, small group sharing, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. This is the ninth year that camp has run this program. I like to describe it as “hit and run missions-that has been running for almost a decade and has nationals involved with and connected to the ministry to stay behind and carry out the work all year long.” It may be a mouthful, but it is a large task that we are under taking.

My personal involvement came after I heard the story of a little girl who was a part of CSA 09. We will call her “Lenaiah.” Lenaiah like so many children in South Africa, has A.I.D.S. She is fortunate enough to have access to anti-viral medication. Last year, the team was able to host overnight camps. On the last day of camp, Lenaiah forgot to take her daily medication. When asked by our leader and founder Merv, ho w this happened. Her response was, “Uncle Merv, I was having so much fun, I forgot.” The children of South Africa live in circumstances beyond my imagination. If I can give them one week, one day, one hour, or even just one moment where they are having so much fun they forget their circumstances, and in that moment they are simply children again, then I simply have no choice but to go.

My work here at Alliance has allowed me the time and the resources to undertake this journey. I am writing to all of you asking for prayer and support. The dates of the trip are November 18 – December 17, 2010. We will be working most days, and will be out ministering for as long as twelve hours a day. Please pray for our team, that we stay healthy, safe, and sane. Pray that the moments seen and unseen will be used to impact these children and that through the fun and food, they will come to know of the hope of Christ.

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

--Jesse "Gonzo" Letourneau

If you would like to help defer the cost of my trip you may send donations to

6250 Bohemian Highway, Occidental, CA 95465. Please include CSA2010/Jesse Letourneau on the memo line. All donations are tax deductible and you will be sent a receipt.

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