We are the Ladd Family. We sold everything and moved to Africa to serve people. We leap over tall buildings and save people all.day.long. THE WORLD recently wrote us a letter and said, “Thank you for changing me.” None of that is true.

Most days, we do a lot of what you do. Only it takes us a lot longer. Like a trip to the grocery store… you don’t even know. 

We went on our second hospital tour yesterday. During our first hospital tour, we sipped fruit-infused water, and Lifa ate fresh cookies from the hospital chef. I pregnant-cried over the intimacy of care, and Chris dreamt of bringing his parents there to see the baby. Lifa put all his attention into his coloring project, desperately trying not to hear body part words.

All three of us found comfort when we were taken into the labor and delivery rooms. Lifa (who’s visited some very scary hospitals with me in the past) said, “This doesn’t smell like what I thought it would. It looks like a hotel. I’m jealous you and Dad get to stay here!” (I quickly reminded him that I’d be pushing an entire human out of a very small part of my body while his grandparents were spoiling him. Jealousy immediately subsided.)

There have been moments when I thought the 2-year visa journey was going to break me, and now I find encouragement and a little steady reminder from God. “The timing is perfect. We had to get you to right here, Kacy, to see the fulfillment. You wouldn’t know me so well if you hadn’t needed me so much. I wouldn’t have so much of your heart and you wouldn’t have given me so much of the soles of your feet”.

There are so many people trying to figure out who they are going to be in 2019. And then there’s Lifa.

We’ve entered puberty, guys. I’m just going to be real – we’ve got some highly awkward, moody, broody moments in the Ladd house these days. If anything can mess with your sense of identity, it’s those raging adolescent hormones and embarrassing body changes.

Today's blast from the past is from Lifa's first trip to the ocean in 2012. He doesn't remember it, and I remember being right in the middle of some of the hardest emotional turmoil of my life. I didn't know what would happen to Lifa the following year. LOOK AT US NOW! Praise God! And look at where you are now - Praise God! And seriously, this story is worth reading for the pics. Because he was CUTE.

Almost 5 years ago, I wrote a blog about "What I Didn't Know 4 Years Ago." I can't believe I've almost been in South Africa for 9 years! I still remember the power in writing those words as I reflected over my first 4 years here. If I wrote today about what I didn't know 9 years ago... well, you better be glad you can just read it one short story at a time! Read my story, and then take a minute and look back on where you were 4 years ago. And think about how far God has brought you!

Cape Town was cookin’ last week! Just a few weeks into spring, and the highs were in the 90’s everyday. (I’m speaking Fahrenheit today. Cape Town friends, you know how hot it was!) I’m carrying a sweet potato-sized human and had to jump into our swimming pool intermittently throughout the day to keep me and this potato baby from baking! (Fahrenheit friends, there is no central air in homes or schools here.)

Between consuming three bags of ice, dipping in the pool and making some exciting church plans, I toured three high schools last week. Yes, that’s right… I said HIGH SCHOOL.

We’ve got two major things going on in the Ladd house right now:

1. We’re growing a baby. (12 weeks!!! I have an extremely awkward pooch!)

2. We’re prayerfully expecting my South African legal status to be cleared in the hands of our very capable lawyer. (If you’ve not heard of the legendary lawyering of Craig Smith or kept up with the visa saga, sign up here for our Friday Five. The handsome Chris Ladd delivers our family’s weekly top 5 in a way that always entertains.)

Thank you for your prayers, comments and encouragement from the story I wrote about crying on my closet floor. Since then, we’ve celebrated 3 years of beautiful marriage, hosted a wonderful bunch of people for my 34th birthday, and Lifa got his first bloody nose at a rugby practice. He felt like he had finally become a man.

He shaved slashed lines through his eyebrows

He never wears the actual school uniform.

He comes into a room, and the room responds.

I could go on and on describing the big, tough, intimidating presence in the inner-city class I’m teaching. And then I’d watch your face change when I told you he is only 13.  The last five weeks has been quite a journey with Arise Cape Town. I’ve been going into a high school into an impoverished, gang-/drug-infested area of town to work with 8th and 9th grade boys who’ve been identified as “needing an intervention” for their anger problems.

Did you see our new house!?!

There is one thing I didn’t show you on the tour: our closet.  

First, you should know that closets are almost non-existent in South Africa. If you’re lucky, you get a few built-in cupboards. Chris and I have never been able to fit both of our clothes in our bedroom before now. You can imagine the squeals of delight when we opened this little magic door in our bedroom…

Needless to say, finding a good gym was important to me when we moved to Cape Town. I’m often the only female in the weight room, and I had no idea how much that would impact me. A year ago, I joined a small gym a mile from our house. I was lifting weights 4x/week and became a familiar face quickly… Because I was the only girl-face in the weight room. There was the guy who cleaned, the guy doing the same 5x5 program as me that always took his shoes off to lift, the guy who headphone-danced while he lifted, the guy who made secret videos of himself and sent loud voice messages between sets, the most adorable elderly man who would curl dumbbells and sweat buckets, and the guys who scream-talked about their favorite protein drinks. We all grew accustomed to seeing each other and exchanged polite smiles as we began workouts.

I’m an “all or nothing” kind of lady. If I can’t do something all the way, I would rather not do it. It is my greatest strength and my greatest weakness. My “all or nothing” mindset helped me to wholeheartedly commit my life to living in Africa and parenting Lifa as a single, young lady years ago. It helped me say, “I choose you,” to Chris Ladd when we had the fateful “business meeting” and decided to commit our lives to each other before we had ever even been on our first date. It helps me every morning when my alarm goes off at 4:40am to get up and get the most out of those quiet morning hours with God so that I can give my all to my family and our city for the rest of the day. It can also leave me empty from going, giving and going some more all day, every day.

Last year, we spent Father’s Day weekend tucked into a frost-covered tent under a blanket of South African stars. Our first six months in Cape Town had been challenging. Our souls needed the refuge of wide-open spaces. We drove three hours outside the city, hoping and praying that the campsite Chris found through a very extensive online search would be that refuge. We had reserved a campsite called Echo Valley, nestled perfectly inside of a mountain hug and at least one mile away from anyone else on the private nature reserve, Gecko Rock.

Our perfect little Ladd baby has already left a legacy in our family. In holding her and letting her go, we are changed forever. We can say with resolution that we are a family who pre-decides and re-decides every time we need to that our God is good. We rejoice, whether happy or sad, when heaven is populated. While she is rocked by angels in everlasting life, we get to give our lives on this earth for the purpose of populating heaven.

I was a single missionary for my first five years in South Africa. I lived in a volatile and largely unpoliced part of the nation, and the window of opportunities seemed very small for this independent, adventure-loving lady. I eventually adapted to living behind security bars, not driving at night, and other new-life nuances. And then it just stopped working. Three years in, I hit rock bottom. 

The greatest win for today, however, is to stop asking questions and letting my insecurities and inadequacies spiral out of control. The greatest win is to just write something.

You have to be moving to have momentum. Your miracles and breakthroughs happen inside your momentum. We honor God with our movement.

I failed… A race report on UTCT 100km and an even better life lesson.  

A year ago, when we moved to Cape Town, I started to train for the Ultra Trail Cape Town.  This is a 100km race that circumnavigates Table Mountain and the surrounding mountains that grace Cape Town with so much beauty.  In this last year, I have lost 30+ pounds, sacrificed a lot of time, and worked my way up to 70 – 90 mile weeks of running.  I put everything I had into getting ready for this race. 

Our family’s move to Cape Town was a shorter distance but much longer journey than our moves to South Africa from America. In the past one year, we inhabited four homes, two countries, four longdrives, two schools, an embarrassing amount of tears and chocolate for the lady of the house, and a boatload of miracles. 

The Ladd Family was eager to take another faith leap outside of our comfort zones when we moved to Cape Town with a call to plant and pastor a new church. Although the city is more westernized than anywhere we’ve lived in South Africa before, I have spent the past few months feeling hopelessly out of my element.