South Africa was the warmth of a family bonfire.
The last few nights in Jeffrey’s have been inwardly emotional ones. Inwardly, because I’ve yet to cry, but emotional, because everything feels so big, and fiery, and rich.
Last evening we were beachside for a bonfire that our friend, Roelof, held for us. His presence is a very jolly one, that somehow just wraps you up all tight. Maybe it’s that his voice always sounds of something like Santa Claus’ belly laugh. He’s a good, Jesus-loving friend, and he’s family.
After leaving the beach, we piled the 10 of us into the back of Roelof’s white pickup truck, and casually rolled through town home-bound. It took us all holding onto each other, and gathering in extra tight to not fall out. Of course, our other friends were driving closely behind us in their own car to be sure we were safe, but only after they’d taken a picture of us to document the silliness.
This morning we visited a new church, to celebrate our final Sunday. The service was much more traditional “African” than we were used to, but it didn’t take us long to start clapping and stomping along to the bongo drums with everyone. Jake and Lucas shared messages about hope for the hopeless, and then many people opened up their hearts to the Lord’s love for them and came forward to be prayed for. Even with high ceilings, and open windows, the room felt small, because the people felt close. I had my eyes shut at the end, soaking in every last second of Africa I could. I loved listening to the sound of a women giggling the name “Jesus”.
For lunch, the pastors of the church invited us to a cookout, and goodness…they can cook! We were all joking around that “this is the best meal we’ve ever had on the World Race”, because our friend Matt says that about every meal he eats. Our bellies were so happy, and it only seemed fitting to make new friends just as we were preparing to say goodbye.
Our host brother, Liam, picked us up from the cookout to take us to the night service of our home church, Victory. We messed with him the whole way there asking, “Please sing Justin Bieber for us,” because sisters make their brothers do embarrassing things for fun. Liam is probably the best brother we could’ve ever hoped for, always so patient to be our own personal chauffeur, and he has really cool thumb handshakes.
Gathered one last time together with our Victory church family, we sang songs of praise to our sweet Jesus. We sang of his power over our lives, and how constant and good he is. We sang that we were his children, and we were loved by him. As I look back over the time I’ve spent in Africa, I’m undone by the intimacy, and the love, and family we’ve experienced with this church family through the act of worship. I don’t know that I expected it to happen, by my heart has certainly been hemmed to Victory church.
There’s this quote I love, by Jonathan Helser that says, “The more heaven comes to earth, the more earth will look like a family.”
Every gathering we had over a hearty home-cooked meal, and every corporate night of worship we shared in, has rooted our hearts in a family. There’s been so many days like these past two, that were richly community focused. Each late night McDonalds run, conversation with Marlin across the table, coffee dates with Sab, life group study, support group testimony, traditional braai cookout, walks on the beach with Britt, have been sewn in deep. This is life, as a child of God. This is life, adopted into his family.
We’re traveling away from this place very soon now, but before we say goodbye, I want to say thank you to Jesus for inviting me into his family. Thank you for the choice of love, and for always choosing your daughter. Thank you for celebrating each and every home-coming, and for inviting us into one another’s parties. Thank you for mess ups, and apologies, for miscommunication and real talk. Thank you for our host family, and for how vulnerable they’ve been with our team. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for this family, your open heaven on earth.
