The Heart and Crown
Three and a half years ago, I spent a week as a guest in glorious Cape Town, studying ministry development. I interviewed local leaders and social workers all day, and headed straight for the beach afterward. (Perks of the job – and this city!) I wondered aloud with the friend on the towel next to me why that other American, Chris Ladd, was sending me so many messages. We ate sushi almost every night while dreamt of and diagrammed ministry models.
The ministry I was studying was in the roughest, toughest part of Cape Town. One morning I jumped in the social worker’s van for a routine home visit and my world just stopped. A group of men stormed in, clearing out passengers to scavenge the van for valuables. Except me. I was in the very back and couldn’t get out before they got in. Dark-eyed men consumed the van, looking over, under and through it all.
But they couldn’t see me.
One man was six inches from my face when I realized I was invisible to him. Surprisingly (thankfully), I cannot remember what he looked like. I only remember the savage hunger in him- desperation. Just me and dangerous depravity in the backseat of a van. I was hidden under angel wings.
That backseat gave me a front-row view to the raw need in what would become my new hometown. It’s in every city. And it’s the same in every person who has experienced that deep hunger or thirst that just can’t seem to get satisfied. It’s here making espresso behind the counter of the coffee shop I’m writing from. It’s tattooed across the arm of the sunken-eyed man in the corner. It’s tucked behind careful smiles, cheek-kisses and cappuccinos just as much as it screams through riots, violence and crime.
Instead of hoping for the return of my invisibility, today I will leave bright a gold card with a crown, a heart, and a handwritten blessing.
Today I’m sitting in a coffee shop in the same building as one of those post-ministry meals years ago (that one happened to be Mexican food). I remember texting Chris a picture of the menu because there was Mexican food in Cape Town.
I’m no longer asking questions about what ministry strategy to implement. He’s given us a new heart, new eyes and a new vision. We are reaching out with wide arms through our new hometown- with a heart and a crown. We carry His love and His authority wherever we go. We intend to give it away relentlessly.
The kids at school follow me around and say, “I like your accent, Lifa’s mom.” We don’t exactly melt right in as locals. Instead of trying to become what Cape Town already is or banking on invisibility in darkness, we’re trusting the radiance of Christ in us to light the place up and send darkness running with its tail tucked between its legs.
Cape Town, you are a beautiful and dearly loved city.
Over 4 million people reside around the most exquisite table on earth: Table Mountain. Roughly 2% identify themselves as Christians- and that is the true drought in this loved city. The Table has been prepared for you, Capetonians. And He says, “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat!” (Isaiah 55:1)
Photo by Greg Lumley
Pray for our family as we march into this city in the coming weeks to form a church-launching team. Chris posted an ad on facebook this week to invite those who already have a heart for the church in Cape Town. It has reached thousands without response.
Pray that He gives them eyes to see the ad and courageous hearts to respond.
Pray that Chris and I will have courage, favor and discernment in intentional conversations in the next few weeks to develop a launch team for Love Jesus Church.
Family and friends, let’s light up this city with our prayer. Take up your heart and crown – His perfect love and your royal authority. There’s never been a better day for it than today.