February 27, 2013
Our team woke up yesterday to a very encouraging message from one of the A6 members of Rolling Hills, where he prayed that we would have “sun stand still” experiences that would allow us to complete what we were sent here to complete without rush or worry. It’s all in the hands of the Father. And for our longest day of ministry this week, it was very appropriate!
We certainly had plenty of opportunities to put that prayer to the test yesterday; we had filled our day with various tasks and projects that would be taking our team all over Red Hill and Cape Town. In the morning alone, between the 12 of us, we painted, poured concrete, worked in a clinic, taught a class on early childhood development, and fixed a gutter on the middle camp shelter. The afternoon was filled with more painting, in-home care visits, and a teens club on purity and hygiene. Nicknames were cemented (Michelle “Baby” Carroll), established (Larry “Big Baby” Crawford), and abandoned (Jason “Hot Lips” Hale). The dog that has adopted our team as her own in an annoyingly aggressive way bit at least three locals that made the poor decision to walk past us (I’m sure the body count will increase today).
Our evening was spent in the shelter, with Jason, Leslie, and Larry delivering messages on leadership, small groups, and budgeting to church leaders from several congregations in Red Hill. It was a very encouraging time, starting with a prayer of “Thank you Jesus, Amen” sung by everyone in attendance, and ending with an invocation to lead and lead well from Jason.
And in the midst of all that, in the time between the end of teens club and the beginning of the training seminar, I had the chance to experience my first Red Hill sunset. This is my fourth time coming to Cape Town, and I have seen dozens of sunsets from the patio at the Team House, but never from the edge of Phyllis’ garden. When you’re in Red Hill, it is very easy to become focused on the shanties and shacks that populate the landscape and miss the fact that you’re standing on a hill, in the midst of mountains, overlooking the Atlantic. Unreal.
This was the end of our day; we didn’t need the sun to stand still any longer. And it sank in some of the most incredible shades of gold I’ve ever witnessed, a neon yellow that could not be contained. It was God’s way of saying, “You’re welcome. And yes, I am awesome.” And not in the 80′s way that things became “awesome” just because they happened; in the way that made us stand in awed silence. Amen.