Monday, July 26, 2010

Work What You're Workin' With

This week, a team from South Africa’s YWAM School of Performing Arts (SOPA) is visiting Ten Thousand Home for their outreach. They’ve spent 3 months learning, celebrating and practicing communicating the gospel through the arts. They’ve visited all three communities we’re working in here for feeding programs and church, and given an incredible gift of art, music, dance, drama and ministry with no words necessary.




We also have a couple here from Australia, John and Jenny, that have lived in Africa for 8 years, traveling around teaching and training in Family Ministry schools. I sat down with them, gushing, and basked in words I hadn’t heard or used in a long time: family systems, genograms, family structure, and so on and so on. I drank in their stories and adventures and spent time reflecting on the creativity and excitement I felt when working in that capacity.

After enjoying the creative gifts the SOPA team had to offer and sharing my hope and perspective on family ministry with John and Jenny, part of me felt sad, like I was experiencing a deep loss. I went to bad last night missing the creativity and thrill I felt walking through life with people in the counseling setting. It sounds dorky, I know. But, hey, I’ve embraced that part of me! I mean, come on, how can you say counseling with inflatable instruments, handmade trophies, wooden puppets, superhero capes and Aerosmith isn’t exciting?

This morning I woke up inspired to read more of the book, Creative Prayer by Chris Tiegreen that I bought at the bookstore here, specifically because it was on the clearance shelf for 15 Rand (less than $2US). Chapter 4 and my own time of prayer helped me gain some perspective.

”Biblical prayers begin with impressions, but they usually end with expressions, and at some point the inside and the outside are supposed to match. Visible, expressive prayer often integrates our body and soul and brings them together. If our prayers don’t involve our senses, they don’t involve the whole person. Since God never desires less than everything, give him your heart. Make it real. Or else forget about it.” – Creative Prayer
The first three months on staff (I’m about 1 ½ months into it), Ten Thousand Homes asks new staff to not commit to any specific “jobs” in the ministry, but to participate and learn the ins-and-outs. I have tremendous respect for that set-up, but have found it trying at times to know how to be “me” or unleash creativity when I’m in that go-with-the-flow learning process.

Then I realized this morning that I’ve been looking at it all the wrong way. (Perspective Check #2,059 in the life of Kacy Chaffin) I’ve been waiting on people or places to engage me, awaken all 5 of my senses or breathe life and excitement in to me, while not overstepping boundaries, etc, etc. But really, I have perfect opportunity for creativity and to be passionately interacting, where God has called me to be, right here and right now.

Just like you do where you are, right there and right now.

So, I’m committing this week to communicate creatively with God every day. This morning I stretched while I prayed and thought about the limitless ways to express myself to My Maker – through nature, through cards, through extending a hand or a gift to others, through offering, through secret dance parties…. I’m getting excited just writing about it!

You see, it’s not about making life good or exciting. It’s about being alive in how you were created. The SOPA team is practicing a new dance right now. Brittany is helping Lynn work on her blog. I’m holding a sleeping baby and writing to my beloved and incredibly loving Home people. I’m going to try to connect to God while using the gifts He gave me and see more ways to be alive in Him in whatever I’m doing. And I’m inviting you to join me this week in finding a new and creative way of connecting.



Heck, let’s get crazy this week. Leave a comment on my blog about a way you expressed yourself creatively to God.

Love you.

Go wild.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Culture Crash

This past week, the country celebrated Nelson Mandela’s 92nd birthday. There is a national holiday for the man who created a bend in the story of South Africa’s history and represents the reconciliation and celebration of cultures, declaring South Africa a “Rainbow Nation” during his presidency. The national anthem is sang in 5 of the 11 national languages. There are countless culture groups, each with their own languages, foods, and social norms.

This past weekend, I attended an Afrikaans church, where I knew the words to the worship and the atmosphere was pleasant and polite. We took communion together, the children were dismissed for Sunday School, and the format was similar to American churches I’ve attended. After church, I was invited to lunch with a couple from the church – in a gated community of gorgeous brick houses on a golf course. We were ushered in with amazing hospitality and love, and served an incredible feast of chicken, steak, potatoes, carrots, bread, salad, juice and even 2 kinds of cake with custard for dessert!

This week I’ll go to a Swati church in Mbonisweni, where the women and children sit on one side and the men on the other and there are no instruments for the worship sang mostly in siSwati. A new member leads church every week, the children snack, sleep and wander about freely, and guests are invited up to share testimonies. There are spontaneous songs throughout, and you can always count on dancing wherever Stanley and Lennon are sitting. You bring your own toilet paper in case you need to use the squatty potty outside and, when you finally hug the children goodbye at 1pm, you hope they have pap and beans to go home to.

And then there’s the spiritual and relational community on the Ten Thousand Homes base where I live, with its own, largely American culture. Everyone comes to morning prayer with a cup of coffee in hand, and we talk about love languages at least once a week.

South Africa is both a 1st and a 3rd world country. And I’m trying to live somewhere in between – I think.

I have no idea where/what to call my home church here. I say “no” in Afrikaans and “yes” in siSwati. I’m finding that the more I experience, the more cultural confusion I enter.

Since joining staff and committing to be in South Africa for at least 2 years, I’ve realized that if I’m not intentionally and continuously aware of what’s happening around me, I could drown in this ocean of cultures.

Being intentional.

I want to look for the good in each culture and celebrate it. I want to experience another facet of Christ’s uncontainable character amongst every person and every people group.

I don’t want to get washed away by a tidal wave of norms and expectations.

I want to learn, to see, to hear, and to choose to live out of a Kingdom culture anyway. Sometimes I feel undeservedly privileged to live amongst such diversity and getting to glean more Kingdom experiences by living alongside other cultures. But, honestly, most of the time, I’m overwhelmed and just feel out of place wherever I am.

I think that’s ok. Because I don’t think I’m supposed to “fit in” anywhere on earth. But, dang, it can get uncomfortable. Even lonely in the times when I’m desperate to feel like I “fit” somewhere.

God’s been teaching me that there’s a “new” kind of comfortable. It’s being comfortable in my Home in Him rather than trying to get comfy on the couch of whatever culture I’m living in.

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort… For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows.” – 2 Corinthians 1:3,5
That kind of comfortable is WAY better… it’s the eternal kind that never disappoints. But, truthfully, I’m struggling to rest in that.

Please pray with me that I keep working for, that I choose daily and that I will believe all the way through me that my Home is the Kingdom and that’s the culture I belong in. It doesn’t matter what language I speak or what my love language is there; I just belong.

It’s almost hard for me to write this part because of how uncomfortable it is, but I hope you experience that “misfit” longing for something beyond the culture around you, too. I hope that longing leads to a new wave and passion of intentionality in your life. I hope your insides start crying out for eternity and that we can strengthen and encourage each other for the culture where we all belong, where we are all perfectly loved, and where the social norms don’t necessarily align with any culture on earth, but relationships develop to depths we’ve never known before.

“Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Meanwhile, we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.” 2 Corinthians 5:1-4

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Learning The Hard Way

I"m painfully uncomfortable asking for help. It's a weakness God's working on in my by putting me in situations where I have no other choice.

He's showing me that if we live as though we don't need anyone else, we're living by the world's standards. And who really wants to exist in a place where we don't need each other? That's a world without relationships. That's a world without God.

So, I'm learning.

I cannot drive here and have no transport on my own - so I have to ask for help.
I cannot speak the local language in communities - so I have to ask for help.
And I cannot live out the work I've been called to do here independently - so I have to ask for help.

I was good at supporting myself, living by myself and taking care of myself in America. But there was a loneliness in it that I couldn't shake.

Needless to say, things have changed! Now I have no means of supporting myself, live in community and depend on others to help me get around. (I'm pretty sure my mom is cringing right now as she reads - Hi Rosa!)

Gut-check.
Culture-check.
Truth-check.

God's shaking me up, pruning off the branches that aren't bearing fruit (John 15) and giving me perspective about what the body of Christ really looks like. My feet have landed here in South Africa. But He has assured me that He will send hearts and hands to keep me from falling. He's reminding me that people all over the world care about the orphan crisis, but were made to care in differnet ways than me. He's teaching me that needing others is inviting them into watching Him work first-hand and into being a part of His Kingdom. Missionaries live all over the world and have all kinds of differnet jobs and realities.

I need your help. Let us not live in a culture of independence, but in a Kingdom culture, recognizing we need one another and we need God's grace.

I'm officially starting support-raising, seeking monthly and one-time donations so sustain me as I live in White River, Mpumalanga, South Africa and work with Ten Thousand Homes. I've reorganized my blog to be information-friendly regarding support-raising and sent out more information via email. I will be traveling to the States for Christmas holidays and would love to speak with churches, small groups and have coffee dates with anyone interested in what I'm doing here.

Please help spread the word.
Thank you to those who have encouraged me in my insecurities and fears. Please keep praying with me that I embrace this Kingdom culture rather than running back toward independence. Also, please pray for provision and that God will move in the hearts of His children to support me and know me through this process.

If you'd like more info, please feel free to email me at kacychaffin@gmail.com

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Candle Light-Up-My-Life

A tiny mud house. A candle to light the night. An entire soccer team in the front yard. And a dream built on hope, love and family.

Last weekend Keri and I went to Swaziland, where I met Petros and his wife Elisabeth for the first time. We visited their home twice while we were there. Up the mountain, down the dirt road, climb over the barbed wire until you see the small patch of Home in the community of Motjane.

Petros and Elisabeth live meagerly. They have very little for themselves and their children, yet they have spent the past years pouring into discipleship with YWAM Swazi and their local church.

They have 6 children, but have now taken on 7 more orphaned family members. Both Petros and Elisabeth have lost sisters recently and have welcomed their children into their home. They are now a family of 15, and their house is bursting at the seams. There’s not room for all of them inside, so a few of the boys sleep in a small hut outside.



We were welcomed in and served tea, bread and polony by one of the children who prayed over us before serving us. We chatted about the hardships, the blessings and the hope Petros and Elisabeth have.

My favorite part was when they invited all of the children into the small living room to sing for us – 13 kids in that tiny house beats movie theater surround sound any day!

I watched the children and the way both Petros and Elisabeth love them so tenderly. Over half of these kids are orphans. And there are 13 of them! If anyone should be lonely, hurting or broken, it should be them. Many times when I go to the feeding programs here with Ten Thousand Homes, children are desperate for touch and will wrap themselves around your or instantly fall asleep in your arms – or the other extreme, they’ll flinch when you reach out to touch them. Not these kids. You could tell in their walk, their talk, their interaction, and the way their family worked that these kids feel loved; they have hope; they are dreaming.

Petros can’t work for YWAM the way they have been for years anymore and he’s broken up about it. He doesn’t want to leave ministry, but he has to take care of these kids. There’s no one else.

Last weekend I got a first row seat to hearing God breath and vision into a cultural family obligation. It’s called the Road to Hope.

Petros and Elisabeth are not leaving ministry at all. They are starting at the roots. Their ministry, their harvest, is those 13 children who will grow up knowing who God is, knowing how much He loves them, and with a vision for their future.

They dream of building onto their house and using it as a base for The Road to Hope – a ministry focused on discipling families and raising children up to dream and have hope.

I just couldn’t believe the warmth and the overflowing passion and energy they had. Raising 13 children and wanting to do more. Can you imagine how long it takes to hand wash for 15 people!?! And the cooking! I get cranky when I have dish duty (with hot, running water!) too many days in a row or when the electricity goes out for a couple of hours.

Petros and Elisabeth give freely as they have been given freely. (Matthew 10:8) They don’t measure success in possessions or plans, but in love and hope.
Petros, Elisabeth and 10 of their 13 children

I’m praying this for myself and for you this week:

Wherever you are, let God breath vision there. Let us not become consumers of love, but givers of it. It’s time to stop counting and measuring. It’s time to see the darkness and shine the light there. Look for it – both the light and the darkness. Celebrate it when you find it, and bring it where you don’t.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Turning mountains into moments.

One more week of adjusting to this "new normal", and God's faithfulness is written all over it. There have been moments where I've wondered what I'm doing here - even wondering if I've gotten this all wrong.

And then God gives me a moment:

A leopard walking out in front of our car at Kruger Park.

Watching Isabelle steal kisses and hugs from Lifa at the Ten Thousand Homes Staff vs. Mbonisweni soccer game.


Celebrating culture from far away - featuring an American soundtrack, sweet tea and I even snuck in a little "God Blessed Texas".


Trying to carry a bed up a mountain to squeeze into a tiny home for a family to have a nice place to sleep.

It's small moments this week that God's used to remind me that he hears and answers every single prayer. He's shown me that, since I lost my house on earth, He's given me a million more and deeper experiences of Home that I might not have known from my comfort zone.

It reminded me of what Jesus said, "Whoever finds his life wil llose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." (Mt 10:39)

With every moment, that makes a little more sense to me.

Pray for safe travels and more moments for me this weekend. I will be travelilng to Swaziland (a few hours taxi ride) with another staff member, Keri, to the Swazi YWAM base. We are going to share stories, build relationships and to dream alongside them. I can't wait to share pictures and stories when I return on Sunday!

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Walk It Out

I used to have an iPhone.


And, when I had an iPhone, I would sometimes scare myself at how much information I could access at one time … and on a touch-screen for that matter!

It’s only been six months, but it’s strange to me to think about unlimited, high-speed internet access all the time, anywhere you go. I could find the nearest coffee shop, read the reviews, get directions and call for business hours within seconds… while driving… on that hand-held piece of goodness.

It has always been normal to be in high-speed, hyper-productive mode. I got even better at it when I started drinking coffee!

But now it’s time for a new normal.

I’m used to running; and now it’s time to walk… alongside the community-members here, a group of God’s chosen and dearly loved children, appointed to bear fruit that will last.

The new normal comes with a lot of waiting, being still, a new mind frame and vocabulary regarding time and place, and taking time to go beyond language barriers and culture clashes to build relationships.

Sometimes I feel like I spend all my time talking in circles or walking too slow. (It’s safe to say I haven’t “mastered” this new normal quite yet.)

Then a child runs up that I haven’t seen in months, calling my name and asking me what day my church will come. Or I receive a real, genuine hug and a handful of avocados. Or God sends a team here that renews the heart, the vision and Home in me.

Just when I start to get tired of the “scenic route” and I get ready to run as fast as I can, Jesus moves in that subtle, loving way He has and reminds me that this isn’t a race.

This orphan crisis, or any of the other injustices or pain we deal with daily, is not a “project” to be completed by a certain person.

I have a feeling that this new normal I’m dipping my toes in will involve a big, fat perspective check. I’m learning (at an even slower pace than I’m walking) that we are to live like a family, not like super-heroes trying to “fix” it all before the detonator goes off.

We can each only do our part to make the earth look a little more like the Kingdom.

My new normal includes learning to celebrate that the part of the Kingdom I get to walk in is colorful, runs on relationships first, and is right in-step with Jesus walking beside me.