How to go from proud to humble in three seconds

Hi wonderful team,

First of all, thanks to the Bulls for this blog. Really, it amazes me how God has put this team together. Talk about a group of people with servants' hearts! Gwen and I have been incredibly humbled and encouraged by your stories of how God called you to this mission, and the things He has done in your lives along the planning-way. Among other things I'd like us to use this blog as a place for us to share a little of our journeys. Don't be shy! God loves the glory, and they are all His stories anyway.

Some of you have asked how we came to partner with CATCH. So, here's that story to start us off. Oh, and I'd better qualify that the spiritual experiences I'm telling about are mine, not necessarily Gwen's...I don't think God has to resort to the same tactics with her, and she has her own amazing stories to tell.

In his book Wild Goose Chase, Mark Batterson talks about "thin places", places where the divide between heaven and earth is little less, where God's voice is more easily heard, and His presence more readily felt. For me, the thinnest of my thin places is Africa. I don't know why, and I don't ask why, I am so thankful that God chooses to let me hear and feel Him at all.

Gwen and I went to South Africa with a rock solid plan last year. We were to meet with several ministries to pick the one that we (Chets) would eventually partner with. We'd done a lot of legwork before we went, and were already fairly sure of the one we'd choose. (I'm the best at pro-con lists, which I am always, at the time, pretty sure that God really needs before He makes His plans. I had an airtight ministry pro-con list, I know God was super impressed). So, the trip almost seemed superfluous at that point, but our tickets were booked and people were waiting, so we hopped a plane bound for the poor and needy of East London. I really thought we were just going to confirm what we (or at least the me part of we, you know...the important part) had already decided. I mean, I'm not saying I hadn't prayed and prayed and prayed. I was sure that I had done a good job of praying God into my will. We met with the chosen ministry. It was lovely, they were lovely, a Christ-centered ministry which meets the needs of thousands of AIDS patients and their families. It was a slam dunk, they had programs in place, facilities to partner with American churches, even an American missions pastor on staff. E-A-S-Y!!! See God, what a great plan/list I made?! (subtle pat on back from happy self). I was ready to go to the beach for the day, goals being met and all that. I was feeling like there was no chance God wasn't pleased (this is all before I found out that my primary side of our deal is loving Him over pleasing Him, but I was a child then, you know, last year).

But God...well, He wasn't ready for the beach yet. He had the plans of a woman's heart to deal with, and other things like that in mind for the afternoon. (Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails. Pr 19:21) We had already planned to meet a few smaller, less organized ministries, and Gwen, whose manners are better than mine, said it was too late to cancel. Sigh. So we headed out to the seaside village of Gonubie, passing the despair of squatters' camps along the way. Turning into a ramshackle gate set in a shabby wooden fence we found ourselves in my favorite of all places, real Africa. And then, wouldn't you know it, there in that scrubby, dirt parking lot, our car surrounded by smiling, hungry children, God showed up. It was the thinnest, skinniest, heaven-is-here, place. The Spirit was heavily on both of us and we weren't even out of the car yet! Those of you who know me know that I'm not big on public displays of emotion, but I was undone, not by what I was seeing with my eyes (seen that sadness too many times) but by God's presence. Sandals came off, that dirt lot was holy ground. We had arrived as the staff (who are all residents of the squatter's camp) were worshipping. I could hardly stand; I was seriously pathetic. The "how can we help you" totally-together-businesswoman of the morning was in a thousand pieces. I had barely said "hello" and I was SOBBING, borderline hysterical. It would have been so awful, so embarrassing, except I could almost feel God on my skin, and I could hardly orientate myself to the faces around me for His face before me. I knew in the depths of my spirit that He was promising, that despite my now stupid pro/con list (what is THAT in the kingdom?) and practical protests, He wanted us here. The rest of that day was a blur of the sick and dying, knee-buckling poverty, stories of abuse and horror, yet covered and wrapped in enough peace of God to last this aging hippie (that's what Gwen calls us, ugghhh!) for a lifetime. And, because God is just plain THE GREATEST and loves us and was, I'm pretty sure, having a lot of fun with us by now (the whole created for His pleasure bit), He let the rest of that time in Africa stay "thin" for both of us...but I'll let Gwen tell some of those stories.

I am so thankful, grateful from the depths of my heart, that God is allowing me to serve Him in this way, and that, in His wisdom, He's put us together for this season. You are all such a blessing to me.

Heather

"Oh, the depth of the riches of both the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments, and unfathomable His ways! For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who became His counselor? Or who has first given to Him that it might be paid back to Him again? For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be the glory forever."

-end of Romans 11