Gretchen Henner
My first entry
I’ve never had a blog, and honestly I don’t know what I’m doing with this one. I fill journals like crazy with prayers and notes on sermons and the occasional poem (don’t tell anyone i try poetry! he he), but then my only audience is God. I’m a lil afraid I won’t be authentic in this, I guess. As I considered what I should write I decided to start with a prayer. This will serve to remind me, and maybe you too, why I’m writing this blog and that God has a unique purpose for it.
Abba,
Thank You so much for Your love. Help us to understand it more everyday, and if it be Your perfect will use this blog to help us understand it more. Abba, I don’t know what I’m doing… with this blog… with mission year…. with relationship… with my life. But You…. You have it completely under control, so I release all my worries and plans to live in that reality. It should be easier totally trusting You, but it’s hard. I must agree to trust You everyday. Your will IS perfect. Make this time I spend writing over the next year plus make a difference for You… not just in anyone who reads its lives, but in my life as well. Transform me from the inside out, Father. I MUST trust You for that because as much as I may try to water and give sunshine to my spirit… only You can make it grow. And many times as my spirit grows when I don’t even know it, much as the farmers crops grow even while he sleeps. So I won’t freak out about spiritual growth… or anything for that matter, but trust You in all things.
Eternally,
G
About Mission Year
Mission Year is a year long urban ministry program focused on Christian service and discipleship. We take teams of young people, place them in an area of need, and help them to serve people and create community. We are committed to the command of Jesus to “love God and love people,” by placing the needs of our neighbors first and developing committed disciples of Christ with a heart for the poor. Learn more about our first year program…
Gretchen Henner's Blog
Home again, home again / Jan 3, 04:23 PM
I’ve never had to travel so far to get home for Christmas. 8 hours from Philly to Ohio (where my housemate Hilary lives). 5 hours from Ohio to Grand Rapids. 748 little differences that made home a really hard place to be. It was a geographical and emotional.
Caz, my city director, gave us an excellent letter about how to return home and thrive while doing. Mine fell in the toilet at the Christmas party we were having. “I’ll have her email me a copy when I get home” I promised myself. It didn’t happen. I let apathy creep in. I dropped by daily devo pattern that is characteristic of Mission Year. It’s like going under water and not coming up… for two weeks. I came up for a couple gasps, but apparently swimming was too hard to be worth breathing. I chilled just beneath the surface for a few days and finally just dove to the bottom. The pressure of the water and lack of oxygen was unbearable. I was so ashamed of being down there that I refused to do the one thing to get out. Finally, Monday night I confessed. Help came quickly that night. My lifeguard (who I sometimes call God) pulled me up onto the deck. Tuesday He set up a little more help for me to get the water out of my lungs. It was a divine appointment with someone I didn’t think I was going to see while home and was scared to see. I confessed again and scripture was breathed into my lungs, drying up the water that was choking me up, casting out guilt essentially. I really didn’t have to go hang out at the bottom of the pool. I was excited about the start of Mission Year marking the end of an ugly pattern in my life. The stage was definitely set for it, but I didn’t end it. I have to embrace Romans 8:1 because if I keep this guilt I’ll go crazy. God’s timing is perfect. He knows exactly what I need to know, and He’s teaching me exactly how He wants. He is so good.
Anyway, I haven’t written since October. You may be wondering what’s happened in Philly since then, and I’m wondering what to tell you. I’ve fallen in love with the Betty, the good and the bad. They’re so good to me and each other. I decided that I’m going to write a series of blog entries introducing them to you. There is Ra, Hilary, Ashley, Emily and Megan. I’m really psyched about that.
I’ve also been growing in other ways that are too much to put into words here.
I don’t know what else to say,
G
Count the Costs / Oct 19, 09:10 PM
this entry was written Oct 6th, but didn’t make it up because… i dk. there will be another later this week and newsletters emailed out tonight!
I’ve never taken a break from my education before. I would not call this year a break but rather a supplement, like a malnourished person drinking Ensure with their meals.
One evening in my recent past I discussed with my team what Jesus meant when He said “count the cost” (Luke 14:28ff). Soon the topic fell on what had been the cost for us to do MY this year. There are four college grads on our team. They explained how their relationships were changing regardless what exactly they chose to do next. It was as though they had nothing to lose. Hil just graduated from high school and has not picked a college as of yet. She felt very similarly to the other girls. I thought about what I had given up. I knew I wasn’t going to graduate in April 2011. That was something my parents made sure I counted early on. My thoughts turned to relationships at school, and I instantly knew that was my greatest cost. I had four year to be with these precious people, specifically Kay and Em. The first year we met and began growing together. Then the second year we lived together and nourished our beautiful friendship into what it is now. I know that I’m not losing it completely. I’m just not getting the closeness I would have had this year. When I go back, I’ll have junior year with them in different classes, and senior year they’ll be gone. I’ll make new friends of course, but the ones I have are irreplaceable (not to mention the incredible girls I LIVE WITH!). I didn’t count this cost previously and the realization made my heart ache. As I thought about I realized that although I hadn’t counted this cost, there was someone very close to me that had. When God started preparing my heart to apply for MY, Kay protested, quietly at first, the then louder when she realized I didn’t really get it. I was completely obsessed with the idea of MY. The adventure ahead seemed greater than the boring nursing major life I had, while Kay counted the cost our friendship would pay. Consequently, I treated Kay very poorly. We had a few fights even, and I had to humble myself. Suddenly I understand what she was thinking. It’s as though a quarter of our friendship has been sacrificed. Given the opportunity I would make the same decision again, but that doesn’t mean its hurting any less now. I’m receiving a great gift through MY and my relationships are going to be paying the cost.
Anyways, I love you and miss you.
Leave comments,
G
Comment [1]
aquatic blessings / Oct 5, 10:06 PM
I’ve never swam in Philly before…. till today. I got online this morning and scoured the area for any aquatic sanctuary that would be cheap and wouldn’t make me get a membership. I ended up at guess swim at 6 at night at a YMCA in a part of Philly I’d never been to. (Its kinda nerve racking for me to get off the subway at a stop you never have before and climb up the stairs into a world you’ve never seen! esp when I’m alone) I found the Y, with the help for some friendly pedestrians and went up to the front counter. I was under the impression that guest swim meant I could just pay ten dollars and go in. My heart sank when I heard the receptionist say “You need a member with you if you wanna swim at guest swim.” “She’s with me!” piped in a guy that was chilling near the desk. I would have quickly befriended him if it meant getting a few good laps in, but she obviously was not convinced. Before turning to leave I made one more plea with the receptionist. “Can I just look at the pool?” “Why you wanna tease yourself” she responded “No, I just wanna get to see the pool if I’m gonna become a member” I begged. My desperation must have been very clear to her. She reached for a paper. “Why don’t we just give you this one week trial and take it from there”. All I had to do was write my name and address on the card and I had free use of the pool for week!
The water was wonderful. Many of you know how picky I am about my pools, but the water was cold and crisp. The color of the tiles made me feel more buoyant and they had flags to help with my back stroke. Only complaint it that the deepest is gets is five feet, but if that means one less kid drowns they I’ll gladly put up with it. It felt so good. I got to revisit the new swimming techniques that I had learned this summer but had neglected for the past six weeks. (Thanks Heather! I’d still have my old crappy flipturns if it weren’t for you!) The feel of my feet hitting the wall reminds me of the rhythm God has for our lives. I realize I am more thankful for this swim than I’ve been for any other. I see God at work just getting me there and I thank Him between breathes. I even got a packet about financial aid for a membership that might make it possible to me to have one on a Mission Year budget. This seems small, but it’s one of the best things thats happened this week.
It’s been a good week.
Spanish at Esperanza magically go easier. I’m reading a novel about how they started and I’m falling in love with the vision. Its called Prescription for Hope, and reading the first chapter on the subway made me cry…. yes on the subway. I wanna go back after MY and IWU. Who knows what God’ll do tho.
We had a talent show in the Betty for family night on Monday. It was hilarious and incredible. I sang and danced to FF5 wearing a ridiculous outfit including a pink feather boa, a trucker hat and sunglasses. There was also poetry reading, originally written worship songs, sign language to a song, more dancing to rap and finally a piece from the house dance major that almost brought me to tears (okay I cry alot so thats not saying much). It was a great time for us to bond!
God’s teaching me alot about humility, which kinda sucks but its sooooo good too.
I’m struggling ALOT at our church, so if you wanna pray for that I’d appreciate it. I don’t think its quite appropriate to tell all the hairy details here, but if you wanna know what I’m feeling call me on a Friday.
Okay I love and miss you. Thanks for all you do
G
Looking for something? / Sep 27, 08:47 AM
I’ve never been hit on riding the subway before (not that I have much experience to draw from). An Esperanza employee brought tons of bread from her church and was giving it away out of her office, so I picked out a few oddly shaped loaves for my bread-loving housemates and threw ‘em in a small trash bag. Waiting for my train this man asked what was in the bag.
“Whatcha got fo’ me, baby?”
“Just some bread. They were giving it away at my work”
I was real excited about this bread. The next comment didn’t come till after we got on the subway. I gravitate toward the windows and he sat right behind me. I thought nothing of it. He began to listen to his voicemail and I whipped out my journal to collect the day’s thoughts.
“Write this numba down! Write this numba down fo’ me!”
I obliged. My pen was already in my hand. As I handed the ripped scrap back to him he added
“And uhhhh yo’ numba on the back?”
“Nooo…”
“Why not?”
“I don’t give my number to strangers”
“I’m not a stranger” he paused and glanced at my journal “I’m a savior!”
For the next six stops he tried to coax my number out of me. I never lied to him (perhaps I should’ve on the boyfriend question). I just smoothly deflected his comments and held my ground .
“Yo got one more stop to change yo’ mind, suga”
“I’m good. Thanks though”
He gave me a few seconds to think it over and as the train slowed softly said “The thought alone was nice” then walked off. I smiled and waved at him through the window. Maybe I was a bit of a tease (Mom, DON’T worry I’m very careful about the kind of information I disclose and I was in a safe situation. This is not the way I always act when I get hit on). The train pressed on and I began to wonder where this confident and strong woman inside me came from and how she came out of the girl that was terrified to ride the subway alone just over a week ago. I finally got to the 15th St stop and I switched from the blue line to the orange (its like calling nacho cheesier Doritos the red ones and the ranch ones the blue haha). I sat down and quickly became a witness to a surprisingly loud gossip fest. Three black girls were loudly gabbing about relationships. First, I noticed that this conversation was uniquely feminine. You woudlnt’ catch you average group of guys talking about who’s with who in this manner. They talked about a particular girl who had dated many guys and apparently said she loved all of them. They were criticizing how easily she fell.
“Der’s ofiously somethin’ wrong with her! She can’t even keep a man for a month”. The girls proceeded to conclude that this girl’s actions were because of her lack to a father and emotionally absent mother. Assumptions were made about her self-esteem, and I couldn’t help but feel bad for her. “She’s broken” they concluded. “WE’RE ALL BROKEN!” my mind screamed. My heart broke for a girl I didn’t even know. She was obviously searching for something. What was she searching for? I noticed a woman across the car from me reading a romance novel. What is she searching for? The girls ripping that girl’s name to shreds were looking for something too. What are they searching for? I thought about my new found “friend” on the blue line. What is he searching for? I turned the question on myself. What I am searching for? I judged the other simply by what I saw them doing on the subway. Hitting on a young woman, tearing apart a peer, indulging in a romance novel. I was journaling. My feeble attempt at growing close to my Savior. So I was searching for God, but I haven’t always been and I don’t always now by any means. Sometimes I’ll bend over backward for someone’s attention (esp. guys’) or go out of my way for the appearance of selflessness. I’ve realized that I desperately was to be liked at Esperanza. That’s why the language barrier makes me so frustrated. Soon I was pondering what my overall goal for my life is. I decided on the broad goal of knowing God as intimately as possible while I’m on the earth. The broadness made me feel like it was something I just thought sounded good or something, but I began to realize that was truly what I wanted. Now God works only when we let Him. Would this goal really include all the things I really want in life? Like getting married, living in community, delivering babies, visiting Asia and Europe, being a part of something bigger than me? God knows the desires of my heart and He loves me more ferociously than I can phantom. He’s all powerful and knows exactly what is best for me. However, He only works in our lives when we let Him. So because of these attributes and because He always acts according to them, I can confidently trust that m desires will be fulfilled or that something better will happen. But just because I can doesn’t mean that I do. I’m going to have to start giving that one up to God.
So I realized that we’re all searching for something. Our motives can often be revealed thru out actions. So now I turn the question to you. What are you searching for? How do you pursue it? Is it working? Is it lining up with God’s will?
In other news:
Things are going really well. Esperanza is great. The after school program has started up at Logan Hope. My beautiful house mates have begun working at thier sites. It is nice to finally have steady schedule. Thanks for your prayers ‘n’ call me on Fridays.
Love your comments,
G
different on paper, than in person / Sep 18, 08:37 PM
The facts:
I’d never been to Philadelphia before let alone moved here, but her I am living on the corner of Camac and Ruscomb in row house that has been affectionately named “the Betty”. She has a garden in front of her growing cucumbers, tomatoes, basil and sunflowers. A dirty street cat, called Hector, meets us outside everyday. I like Hector the least out of all of us.
The night we moved in (three Thursdays ago) I was OVERWHELMED. It was about eight and the priority was to set up beds. It was a mess, and without the furniture in place it was hard to me to see what it would look like. I was convinced that the Betty would never be cute. We finally got the beds set up (we had some set backs in our work), and in the morning we worked on the rest of the house. I was shocked at how quickly everything came together. Now the Betty is definitely cute, and I love living there despite its little quirks. For example, the first week I could never get out of the bathroom because the doorknob is tricky. The freezer side of the fridge is handle less and the stove doesn’t lit without the use of a match. I embrace these nuisances because I know many of our neighbors and the other people we’re trying show God’s love to experience much worse.
The Mission Year team that lived in the Betty before us told some of the neighbor kids to come meet us when we moved in, so we had fast friends in our first few days. We had four days of MY boot camp in Atlanta, GA (home of Family Force 5, my favorite band). We rode the thirteen hour trip with the other teams in the area on two 15 passenger vans! The other teams are: Southwest Philly, Camden, NJ and Wilmington, DE. These four teams (four including ours, North Philly) are lovingly referred to as “Cazland” because Caz is the name of our City Director. She’s great! At boot camp the teams from Chicago, Huston and Atlanta were all there, and it was a good time to get to know the other teams, discuss the philosophy of MY and learn the rules. I definitely caught the vision of MY, and by the end of the week we were pumped (and a little tired to living in the woods). That Sunday we go to go to our church for the first time. It’s called Beloved St. John’s Evangelic Church. It’s very different from what I’m used to. Similarly to our neighborhood, we are essentially the only white people there. Worship is very different. There are no words on a screen. No strictly planned songs. No longer the pattern of two fast songs, one slow song and you’re done. Instead there are tambourines, flags, call and return style songs, raising of hands and yelling hallelujah. The first week I was self-conscience. The cultural differences were too much for me, but this week I discovered that I was made to dance in church. Although I still feel a little uncomfortable, the more I participate the more comfortable I become. The congregation is so friendly too! After the three hour service we were crowded by women, welcoming us to the church. Saturday we will be helping by taking care of the kids during an all day event called “Unity Day”. There will be over thirty ministries from the area setting up booths.
All the Cazland teams spent the two weeks training and looking for service sites. We travel to Center City and meet up at the Mission Year office, which shares a space with the Simple Way office and is just a block and a half from the Simple Way. So yesh I has seen Shane, and one Labor Day we got to go to a block party on their street. We finished training two days ago (the 16th). Now we will have training every other Thursday and Cazland dinners and worship times on the other Thursdays. Seeing other crazy Christians just like us, struggling with the same things as us, is so refreshing.
I started working at Esperanza Health Center this week. I even traveled there all by myself. My first day was really rough, but everyday gets better and better. Tuesday was especially good. I learned SO MUCH. I’m being trained so quickly compared to nursing school (of course I wouldn’t know any of the anatomy and physiology behind what is going on if it weren’t for my nursing education). The hardest part is the Spanish. I can get along okay with the patients, but I don’t understand what the other MA (medical assistants) are saying. That gets frustrating. I wonder if my Spanish will every get better.
The feelings:
So I’ve told you the facts, but you’re probably wondering how all this is affecting me. Last weekend on my Sabbath (meaning I could talk on the phone) I realized that everything is different now. I live with different people. I eat different food. I stress about different things. I The people in my neighborhood are a different color than me. I go to a different church. I worship differently. I use different forms of transportation (on the subway on the way to work while I write this). I work in a place where a different language is spoken! In short, I’m experiencing culture shock. I didn’t recognize it till recently, and I didn’t expect it in the States! I don’t think this is as hard as Mexico was but its close. Dealing with is has been tricky. I thought I’d be able to cope with the whole thing really well. I imagined myself excelling in everything I did and feeling so close to God and just rocking it! The truth of the matter is Mission Year looks different on paper, than in person… very different. My typical coping mechanisms are gone. Thanks for the technology fast, MY! A conversation with Corey or Kay or someone who intimately understands me seems like it would make everything better, but God has put me in a place that doesn’t allow that, with a group of girls that I am meant to be in community with. Meanwhile, the devil sees me getting set up to do good, invading his kingdom, and fervently pushes the same sins that have held me down so many times in the past into my consciousness. It’s temptation. Culture shock and temptation can be a deadly combination, and I’ve been trying to handle it on my own. This week it finally got to be too much and I had to be completely honest and vulnerable to my housemates about the very thing I’m being vague and cautious to you about. I cried a lot and they prayed over me. It felt good. We grew closer. I’m excited to see what will happen next.
The recent past:
PS I got baptized!! On the 22nd at KCC. I couldn’t do a video testimony so I had to do a live one. I cried a lot during it…. Into the microphone… in front of the Saturday night congregation. Here’s more or less what I said:
Hi my name is Gretchen. I’m twenty years old, and I’ve been a Christian for about seventeen years. You may think a three year old couldn’t understand what Jesus’ love meant, but I did. After I got saved, I would sit my teddy bears up in the living room and explain the plan of salvation to them. So I obviously had some understanding. I grew up with a typical Sunday school background, but when I hit high school something much more serious began to unfold. God began to show me my heart for missions and my desire to devote my career to His work, and honestly the youth group here was a huge part of that. In Ephesians 6 Paul tells us that we are not fighting a battle of flesh and blood, but against the spiritual forces of evil in heavenly realms. So as the Lord was working in my heart to form me into what He wanted me to be, the devil began to see me as a threat to his kingdom of evil. He began to bring up feelings of self-doubt and soon I was searching for my self-worth from places other than my Abba Father. The most obvious “other place” was relationships with guys, but I also used school, sports and being a youth group super star to try to fill me too. While I still appeared to be the perfect lil Christian on the outside, behind the scenes was a girl that was being both emotionally and physically promiscuous and was starting to hurt because of it. That’s not to say I didn’t have times of repentance in high school, but true freedom didn’t come till college. I chose to attend Indiana Wesleyan University; a conservative Christian school whose rules I thought were outrageous and stifling. I was told the rules were to help form good Christian community within the dorms. I didn’t understand this at first, but soon through this community my freedom began to be restored. I can’t attribute it to a single day or event, but as time went on God transformed me into a new creation. He gave me a confidence that I am His child and viciously loved and fought for. Telling you about His vicious love is why I decided I wanted to get baptized. This isn’t about me getting tight with God. I know God knows and I’m not worried about that at all, but rather about taking His love to the ends of the earth, starting with you. Another way I’ll be reaching out is coming up in the very near future. In four days, I will be leaving to go do urban ministries through a program called Mission Year. I’ll be living in Philadelphia with a beloved community of five other girls in an extreme urban setting. We’ll be living out the Mission Year motto: love God, love people, cuz nothing else matters. Thank you.
I cried at the weirdest spots, but obviously it touched somebody because I got a letter that my mom forwarded to me from a girl that was in the crowd that appreciated what my testimony and said she’d be praying for me. That was so cool!
I know this entry is super long, but I haven’t posted in soooo long. I love you guys. I think I’m gonna try to post weekly.
I appreciate the comments always,
G
Gal 6:9 Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up
