Growth in brokenness: ministry at Christian Encounter Ranch

It was an unsettling question: “What are you most afraid of this week?" 

PHC Resident Director Rachel McCracken, senior Hannah Gaschler, sophomores Noah Jackson and Cade Crockett, and I, Andrea LaBelle, sat around a cement picnic table at an In-N-Out in California, about 45 minutes away from Christian Encounter Ranch. It was March 1, and we were heading for a week of ministry at the refuge for at-risk youth during spring break. 

Jensen Near, a PHC alumnus (‘10) and the Ranch's Director of Student Life, was trying to prepare us for the challenges we could face. When it was my turn, I said, “I’m afraid of not knowing what to say. I’m afraid of speaking my words instead of God’s words.”  

There, Near stopped me. He explained that we were not going to the Ranch as if we were on a mission trip, but to become friends with the students there.  

“You will learn just as much from them as they will learn from you,” he said. “Just be yourself.

But I couldn’t be myself. "Myself" was horrible; imperfect; broken. "Myself" messed up words, gets confused, and gets easily embarrassed. If I was "myself," everyone else would see how stupid I am and pity me. What help could I be to others then?   

That’s when I realized that I was scared—scared of becoming a laughingstock, only focusing on what others thought of me, and lacking trust in what God could do through me. 

Immediately, I felt a great burden lifted off my shoulders. Well, that’s easy: just be yourself, no matter what. Don’t worry about what people will think. Okay, I can do that.  

But during the rest of the car ride, doubt again crept in. 

On Sunday, our second day at the Ranch, I was sitting in the dining room at one of the circular folding tables, trying to gobble the rest of my dinner down as quickly as I could. I was trying to hurry so that the one student still there, who had already finished his food, wouldn’t feel obligated to keep me company much longer.

Then, the student asked an important question that he had been wrestling with for a while, “How do you deal with negative thoughts about yourself?” 

I didn’t know how to answer. I tried, but my words seemed small compared to the enormity of the question. All the interns knew of this student's struggles and were working with him. I could only pray that God would speak through my small words and lead him in the right direction.  

That night, as I journaled, all I could think of was, why had I been in such a hurry? I was so focused on my feelings and my insecurities instead of caring for others, not noticing when someone needed me. I could only think of how little I was, of how horrible I was, and I lost sight of the gifts God had given me and my blessings in Christ. 

Thankfully, God helped me overcome my selfishness, and He put joy in my heart. Throughout the rest of the week, He only continued to remind me to put aside fear and to find confidence in Him for every interaction.  

Sitting at the In-N-Out table, I, Hannah Gaschler, asked, “What’s the best way to connect with the students?” I was afraid I wouldn’t know what to say. What if I triggered a student by asking about their family?  

“They’re just people,” Near said. “You can connect with anyone if you have the desire.” 

That evening, the students quickly assimilated us into their group. But I was still worried. How was I going to help these people? I wanted to ask them about their stories, but I was afraid they wouldn’t want to open up or that I wouldn’t know what to say.  

One student told me several times that she did not see a purpose in her life. Other times when I saw that a student was having a rough day, I wasn’t sure if I should ask them about it or leave them alone. 

I often compared myself with the other PHC students on the trip. It seemed like all of them were having great, deep conversations with the youths while I was stuck having superficial conversations about hobbies and pets or playing games. What was wrong with me? Was I just not bold enough? But wait—I realized. Hobbies and games are still ways of connecting with people and showing the love of Christ. I did not have to come in as a hero with all the answers to these kids’ life stories. My job was to be a vessel in God’s hands, and if that meant befriending someone by playing Dutch Blitz 27 times, I could be content. 

I needed to let go and surrender my conversations with the students to God instead of relying on my own strength and skills. When I approached a student on the last day with the mindset of loving her instead of just hearing her story, she opened up to me. I felt honored that she felt comfortable. 

Focusing on the people God has placed in my life and using my time with them to show the love of Christ is one of the most important things I could do. So, those “troubled teens”? “At-risk youth”? They’re just like you and me. They’re people too—broken sinners who need the love of Christ.  

 Patrick Henry College exists to glorify God by challenging the status quo in higher education, lifting high both faith and reason within a rigorous academic environment; thereby preserving for posterity the ideals behind the "noble experiment in ordered liberty" that is the foundation of America.