Then and Now
It was a warm winter's day today, so Benjamin and I sought a shady afternoon adventure. Lifa has started rugby practice at school again, and I wanted to keep Benjamin distracted with nature rather than despair. I drove to a park in the first Cape Town neighborhood we lived in.
We moved to a leafy, lush area of Cape Town in 2017, the specific area we felt God calling us to plant a church. As soon as we secured schooling for Lifa, (click here to read about that miracle story!) we started knocking on neighbor's doors to invite them to play dates, coffee, and just say hi. We met with other local pastors and became regulars at local businesses. God called us there, so surely a thriving church would just pop right up and change the world. Right? The short answer is: Nope. At least that wasn't our story.
Everybody exhausted from Mom trying to walk out her problems.
The neighborhood we visited today brought back so many memories. People told us they wouldn't come inside our home because we were pastors, and they hated church. Kids wouldn't play with Lifa because he wasn't in an expensive-enough school and because of what he looked like. Sickening corruption was swinging, selling, dealing and swapping in the houses that surrounded us. At first, it flamed our spiritual fervor. Eventually, we got smoked out.
I've been to the park there hundreds of times, usually with two dogs and 8-year old Lifa on his bike with a cape. He would ride and ride and ride. I would walk and walk and walk.
I laughed today watching Benjamin there. I remember trying to push Lifa through fearfulness and past his comfort level. "Try to ride your bike off that curb." "See how high you can climb that tree." "Just put your toes in the river. It's not deep at all." At two years old, Benjamin continuously pushes me past my comfort level. "You cannot ride your bike down a steep cliff into the river!" "Please choose smaller rocks to throw." "You are in too deep! Get out of the river!"
I visited that park on the river so many times seeking solace when life was empty. We thought we could do it. We thought we could make it happen. It had to happen. It was from God, right? There was vision, confirmation, all the things...
Today, as I chased after Benjamin, I thought about how it did happen. Not from our strength, talents or abilities. It happened from our lowest low. When we hit rock bottom and knew we were capable of nothing on our own, a church reached their hands out and pulled us back onto our feet. They didn't expect us to make anything happen. They were already going. Love was already in action, and they invited us to jump on for the ride.
Today, we get to lead that church. And every day we get to remember that Love Himself is already in action. It's not in our hands, it's in the One's whose hands are scarred. He waits until our own hands are empty so we can have what's in His. He reaches into rock bottom through the hands of others.
If you find yourself in a lonely or low place today... look around and take a photo. Remember it. Because I bet you'll visit that same scenery one day with a new perspective. I bet you'll see where Jesus' hands were while yours felt so empty. Look around to see if there's a place where love is already in action. Maybe the hand you need is already reaching out to you.
