capital campaign

We did it! After months of prayer, hard work, and incredible acts of generosity, we have exceeded our capital campaign goal. Currently, our pledge total stands at $221,787! 


Many thanks to everyone who participated and to our outstanding campaign team for leading the way: Greg Whallin (chair), Jeff Wellkamp (vice-chair), Tommee Clark, Vickie DeShazer, David Duke, Mary Duttlinger, Larry Nalley, Samantha Pierie, Diana Polsgrove, Sheila Quire, Rebecca Russell, Carrie Vittitoe, and Nancy Wortley.


You can stay updated on our progress through the Caller/eCaller and this web page. If you have yet to make a financial pledge, please consider doing so. Pledge cards will be available on Sunday mornings in the gathering area.


To read the campaign devotional booklet, click here.

frequently asked questions (FAQs)

Why do we need a capital campaign?
Some key parts of our building/property infrastructure are in need of replacement. Doing so will ensure that we have a viable, welcoming space in which we can celebrate, practice and share our faith for years to come.

How much do we need to raise?
Our goal is to raise $200,000 in order to replace our main HVAC system, modernize the elevator, replace the upstairs carpet, paint the sanctuary, and install a new LED sign on the front of our property. We have secured a loan through Disciples Church Extension Fund (DCEF) so we can proceed with these projects while raising the funds over a three-year period.

When does the campaign take place?
The campaign begins on Sunday, November 2 (All Saints Sunday) and runs through Celebration Sunday on November 23.

How do donations and pledges work?
Donations can be made at any time by check, through our giving app, Givelify, or by scheduled bank draft. Please contact Mary Borders for the latter option. Pledges are to be turned in by Celebration Sunday, November 23, and fulfilled over a three-year period. Please complete the enclosed pledge card and return through the Sunday worship offering or mail to the church.

What is expected of me?
“Not equal gifts, but equal sacrifice.” This phrase restates the biblical principle of proportionate giving. Few people have the resources to make a $50,000 gift; but every person can make a prayerful, sacrificial gift that will help us achieve our goal.

a time to love (nov 23)

If you attend or have attended a service at Jeffersontown Christian Church since 2020, you will hear pastor Lee Huckleberry say it: “Friends, I love you all. Let us love one another.” It is a radically simple statement, but it can catch first listeners…and sometimes second listeners, off guard.


When Larry Lakin first heard Lee make this statement, he chalked it up as a typical minister “tell:” “I found it to be an interesting statement to mark the end of his sermon; seems to me most all ministers have their own signal that their sermons are ending and this is what I assumed at the time,” he says. Linda Moore’s first thought when she heard Lee say this was something on the order of, “You don’t even know me; how can you love me?”


She wasn’t offended but puzzled by the familiarity of the statement and needed time for Lee’s phrasing to percolate in her mind. It didn’t take too long before she came to the conclusion that he didn’t mean love in a romantic way or even a friend way, but a Christian way. And Larry? He has a different view of the phrase now that five years have passed. “As Lee has ministered to us over the years, I have learned that these five words are far more than a casual expression of affection, but rather a reflection of the core principles of empathy, community, and spiritual leadership,” Larry says. “It is Lee’s conscious effort to foster inclusive fellowship.”


Lee can’t claim to have come up with the phrase on his own, but he knew a good thing when he heard it. He had listened to a sermon by his friend Scott Colglazier, at the time a pastor at First Congregational Church of Los Angeles. “It was the sermon’s last sentence–its landing place. What I did not know at the time was that Scott had ended every sermon that way for more than a decade,” Lee says.


While he knew the words Scott spoke had power, Lee didn’t appreciate how much until he learned that a young man in the congregation had said to Scott, “Thank you for saying that. It’s the only time I hear those words each week.”


Los Angeles is a big place, and potentially a lonely place. Was the young man new to the area and hadn’t yet made friends? Was the man estranged from family? Was he in the middle of a divorce or had he recently experienced a loved one’s death? Who knows. What matters is that the young man was picking up what Scott was laying down, and it provided him no small amount of comfort. “Scott chose for his last words not a polished epigram, but a pastoral truth,” Lee says. “Scott kept saying them not because they tied things up neatly, but because they spoke the gospel in its purest form.”


Lee came to Jeffersontown Christian Church in August 2020 when the congregation wasn’t meeting in the sanctuary, but he had already determined that he, like Scott, would say these words at the end of the sermon. “I did not know what response would come, if any. But that first Sunday, as feedback arrived through email and Facebook, a few people replied, ‘We love you too,’ ‘Thank you for saying that,’ [and] ‘It means so much.’ My words had done what sermons are meant to do: not only announce the gospel but embody it,” Lee says.


During those early months of the COVID pandemic, all of us felt lonely and scared. And while we are years beyond those days, people remain lonely whether they are in Los Angeles or Louisville. “We are awash in communication and yet starved for communion,” Lee says.


Lee continues to feel, see, and hear the power of these words that he shares at the end of each sermon. Members of the congregation say these words to each other more frequently. “The church’s task is not to dazzle, but to declare: You are loved. Loved by God. Loved by Jesus. Loved by those who share this fragile, beautiful life with us,” he says.


Story by Carrie Vittitoe


a time to keep (nov 16)

Pioneers who traveled across hundreds of miles, perhaps with everything they owned in a small mule-drawn wagon, would not know what to make of all the stuff that modern-day people have. Sometimes it feels like all the things we have own us, rather than the other way around.


Lorraine Steele has tended to be the kind of person who would hang onto items just in case. She remembers World War II and its economic hardships and says, “I think growing up poor has made me hold onto things.” People didn’t throw items away like they do now but would think of the possible future uses of things. Plus, she says, “As the children left home, we had more room to store things. You can put it in a drawer or closet and not have to think what to do with it.”


he says her daughter, Lisa, began urging her to go through items just in case Lorraine or her husband Carroll would ever need to make a move due to aging or unforeseen health problems, but it didn’t feel like something urgent that needed to be accomplished. “I didn’t take it seriously,” Lorraine says. But when her twin sister was diagnosed with dementia and had to make a quick move into a new living situation, Lorraine says, “That made me sit up.” Her sister wasn’t able to go through her own items and often asks what happened to her stuff, a situation that Lorraine would like to avoid.


So very slowly, Lorraine began the process of going through her items. She began downstairs, going through books and boxes, sorting, categorizing, and giving away a lot of items. In addition to being hard physical work, getting rid of a life’s worth of items is also emotional work. In addition to being 90 years old, she and Carroll have lived in their home for almost 60 years.


Some of the things Lorraine has rediscovered have brought back happy memories. She found a Simpsons clock that their son had given Carroll, and it's been joyful to recall the fun and laughter related to it. Going through photos has also been a reminder of how thankful she is for her life. “I feel gratitude and joy because we’ve enjoyed so much of life and been so fortunate,” she says.


Going through one’s items is a process of discernment to determine what has the most value and should be kept and what can be given away. “As I got into the process, it was giving me some freedom in getting to make the decisions myself instead of someone else making them,” Lorraine says. “I’m gaining a sense of ownership over my thoughts and life again. And space. Seeing an empty drawer now makes me smile.”


In many ways, what Lorraine is doing is an act of love, for both her and her children. By going through items herself, Lorraine is also removing a burden for her children, saying “Do I want them to have to get rid of it or can I go and do that for them?” Lisa has been so happy with her mom’s efforts and is proud of her for sticking with the process.


While Lorraine has been throwing and giving away items, perhaps the most critical part is that she is also keeping items that are precious to her, the things she most values, either because they hold memories or because she uses them regularly. Being intentional and thoughtful has allowed the items she keeps to be even more special and of greater value to her and to her children who will one day be the recipients.


Story by Carrie Vittitoe


a Time to laugh (nov 9)

We laugh for different reasons. Most of us laugh because something amuses us: a joke, an improv skit, a facial expression. But sometimes we laugh out of embarrassment for ourselves or others. Some people laugh because they are really sad or angry deep down but can’t show those feelings, like when someone giggles at a funeral. 


Tom Mabe has spent decades making his living as a comedian, but his desire to make others laugh stems from childhood. “I was quirky and weird, and I thought, ‘I can’t make [other kids] like me, but I can make them laugh.’ I use laughter as a way of being accepted,” he says. As he got older, he realized that he really liked the high that he got from being able to laugh and make others laugh. “It just releases some kind of endorphins or dopamine,” he says. 


For Larry Nalley, humor may be his love language. “I love people and am a people pleaser, and for the most part, people are pleased after we share a good laugh!” he says. Laughter, and the ease with which one engages in it, is often a sign of a joyful heart. “I believe that the closer our walk is with God, the more joy we have in our hearts,” he says. 


Of course, not every moment in life is filled with laughter, as the Ecclesiastes verse notes. Some moments leave us utterly disconsolate, and some moments are a mix of both tears and chuckles. Johnnie Selby’s memorial service was one of those moments at Jeffersontown Christian Church because while his loss left an empty place in our congregation, he was the cause of so much laughter and many funny memories that keep him alive.


Phyllis Moss was often roped into some of Johnnie’s photograph manipulations on social media which led to their friends never knowing when one of them was going to show up in some wild situations. “He was frequently in a straitjacket and he often had me in an orange prison jumpsuit,” she says. She recalls the time he posted on the church Facebook page for members “Phyllis and I may not be at church in the morning. I should have never listened to her.” Phyllis didn’t realize it was even on Facebook until people at church stopped to ask when she got out of jail.


Not every church is a place of laughter, but Jeffersontown Christian Church is and has been for a long time. Tom jokes that Doug Meister, during his tenure as senior minister, was a source of comfort during members’ major health events and surgeries, and perhaps even small ones. “I was standing in line for my flu shot, and Doug was there,” Tom says with a laugh.


“When I walk into Jeffersontown Christian Church each week, I hear lots of laughter. This, I believe, is a sign that our church is alive and healthy, and my hope is that it always will be,” Larry says.


Story by Carrie Vittitoe


A time to Heal (Nov 2)

It is an unfortunate reality that a healing time must come after an illness or injury; there is simply no way to untie those two experiences. Sometimes the healing is relatively easy, only requiring extra rest and fluids, maybe several doses of ibuprofen. But there are times when the process of rehabilitation is extensive and exhausting, demanding physical and emotional strength we might not think we have.


Laura Williams experienced the latter kind of healing after an unexpected car accident in May 2018. She was on her way home from a health care appointment and was happy that her blood work had come back in good order. After stopping at a red light, she entered the intersection when the light turned green and was t-boned by a police cruiser. The result: shattered glass, smashed metal, and Laura’s body oddly contorted. “My right leg was pinned to the dashboard, and I could feel something not right in my neck,” she says. Of course, she was taken to the emergency room where she was informed that she had a fracture in her thoracic vertebrae T2-4.


An accident that took only moments led to months and months of treatment. Laura visited a neurologist and began injections in her knee and physical therapy. When after half a year those weren't effective, the doctor tried spinal injections. Six more months and no results, so Laura got a second opinion with University of Louisville neurosurgeon Dr. Alstadt. “After CAT scans and an MRI, he determined that I needed Anterior Cervical Discectomy and Fusion,” she says, which meant a metal plate with screws in her neck to provide stability and eliminate pain.


The prospect of this surgery was, of course, scary, but even more so because the incision is made at the front of the neck and would affect Laura’s vocal cords. Laura had been a soloist at St. Paul United Methodist Church for over 20 years but what choice did she have? “I guess it’s in God’s hands,” she thought.


Laura visited various doctors and therapists to assess her voice prior to surgery in order to better determine steps afterwards, and the surgery itself went well. Still, Laura says, “I couldn’t sing for the first time in my life. What a feeling of disappointment and sadness. [I didn’t know] if I would ever speak or sing again. I went into surgery knowing this, but the reality set in and it was mind-blowing.”


Around eight months after surgery, having been diligent about her vocal therapy, Laura was feeling discouraged. After decades of faithful singing and camaraderie at St. Paul’s, she felt abandoned. “It was like, ‘If you can’t sing, we don’t need or want you,’” she says. In this bleak period, when Laura says she felt “two inches in height” and at her lowest level, a friend reminded her that Rebecca Russell went to school for voice therapy. Laura and Rebecca had known each other for a long time; they had sung together in Kentucky Opera, Bach Society, and St. Paul’s, but it had been several years since they had spoken. Laura made the call that day.


Rebecca agreed to not only help Laura work on restoring her singing voice, she invited Laura and her husband Bill to come to Jeffersontown Christian Church. They worked together and developed a trust that helped fuel Laura’s recovery, but Rebecca could make no promises to Laura. “I told her we were going to see what happens. It was an act of faith,” Rebecca says.


They spent weeks doing breathing exercises, practicing drills, and praying, and Laura began to strengthen and retrain her vocal cords. “I was beginning to hear a big difference in my breathing and placement of my vocal cords to where I wasn’t feeling any pressure or straining,” Laura says. An unexpected side effect of the therapy, though, was a deepening of the friendship between the two women. “Rebecca was the angel God sent me,” Laura says.


Laura recalls the day she and Bill first came to to choir practice at Jeffersontown Christian and being greeted with open arms: “I had a lump in my throat not because of my surgery, but because for the first time in almost a year I was in a choir and felt like I finally found a time to heal.”


Story by Carrie Vittitoe