South Africa is looking rather blurry right now
At the beginning of this year, we sold our house and reduced our material possessions for a number of reasons. It’s hard to communicate all that went into the decision, but when it was done, there were three key goals in mind for us as we moved forward in this new season.
1. Live our mission.
As a family, our mission statement is to live and love freely. As much as we sought to live out that mission within the confines and constraints of daily, suburban life in the United States, we realized that there was more. There were more burdens to relinquish and there were more people to love. There was more of the world to see and more of this life to experience. So, we did it. We untethered ourselves so that we could enter into more of what true Life, Love, and Freedom invites everyone to experience.
2. Maximize our time.
We want to squeeze every last possible ounce of goodness we can with our children while they live with us still. As a parenting adage, “The days are long, but the years are short” may sound cheesy, but how true it is—especially in these teen years. When we sold our house, we only had 3 more years ahead with our eldest daughter, 4 with our son, and 7 with our youngest. But we knew those years will fly by, and we wanted to do all we could to design for the best possible experience within the time we had remaining.
3. Expand our perspective.
This goes very much in line with our first point, but it also extends further. As much as we’ve sought to give our children an uncommon education, that education has less to do with academics and much more to do with perspective. When our perspective of different cultures and people and history expands, we believe that is a breeding ground for increased character. As followers of Jesus, we especially want our children—not to mention, us, their parents—to witness and worship with other believers around the world, experiencing the breadth of the kingdom of God firsthand. But we also want our children to see other cultures around the world, learning how those people live, love, relate, eat, work, worship, and much more.
While I could write or talk at length about any of these, at the end of the day, these three goals can all be boiled down to one word:
Relationship.
As a family, we are seeking to enhance our relationship with God, with the people He loves with furious abandon, with the beautiful world He has created, and, yes, with one another. And this first summer as the #cottrellsabroad has not disappointed in this regard.
South Africa was our first destination, even though it wasn’t our first choice (a story for another day). We’ve certainly come to appreciate the South African countryside that we’ve explored over these past two months, marveling daily at the Mother City’s beauty and enjoying her many pleasures and adventures. But as we near the end of this trip, it’s irrefutably the people we have come to love and find most captivating of all.
There’s Lucy and Erouane, as well as their gorgeous daughter, Kharis. The way they loved and served our kids and the many other youth and entrepreneurs within their care brings us to praise simply thinking of them. We wish we could transport them back to Phoenix with us, but we know we will stay in touch, as we cannot overstate our appreciation for them or what they’re doing to serve Cape Town.
There’s Meg and Bruce—not to mention their two amazing children, Ruby and Nathan—two of the pastors at the local church which welcomed our family with open arms. I will miss my many morning coffees with Bruce, our family will remember them as our first true braai, and we will consider them and their multi-ethnic, multi-generational ministry regularly in prayer.
There’s Tammy, a woman who is respected by her community in Phillippi and has chosen to chase love and get her hands dirty with Jesus rather than seek comfort—not to mention the many others who serve alongside her, Piet, Zimasa, et al. We are so moved and inspired by the efforts she and others are taking to impact their community, and we cannot imagine a future in which we are not somehow supporting those efforts.
There’s Vannessa, Obrey, and Susan, the couple and elder who live on the sidewalk in front of the store we walk to daily. Our family had the privilege of bringing food to eat with them daily and even clothing them during our stay. We will miss them and their beautiful daily smiles that greeted us as sure as the sunrise. Their parting tears did not make our goodbye any easier.
There’s Bongani, also known as Benjamin, the man we spent nearly a full week with in a mini-bus, following his lead, eating with him, and learning from him as he educated us about so much of South Africa and its rich, complicated history. We will miss exploring this country with him.
There’s Sharad, the wise old table tennis coach who did far more than help Tolan and Beckett work on their ping pong abilities. He gave my sons the gift of recognizing community’s power, including them in a house of different people and cultures, gently forcing our children to overcome culture and language barriers until they knew they belonged, regardless of their differences.
There’s Cindy, Beulah, Bongeka, Asavela, and Asemahle who treated my family and I to the most rejuvenating massage therapies while we stayed near them. But it was also our encouraging conversations and the relationship that we built with them as a family which will be impossible to replace elsewhere.
There’s Zola, the man who sells magazines on street corners to make a way for his wife and five children. He sold us on kindness. His quiet voice and enormous hugs are a dichotomy I suspect will be hard to find anywhere else in the world.
There’s Sikewe, the strong woman who we came to know and welcome every Wednesday, gentle, thorough, and reliable. Though few words were exchanged between us due to our language differences, we learned to welcome her as a staple part of our week—and the few words she offered us as a goodbye are simply too overwhelming to speak of here.
There’s Nahti, the energetic brother who taught us what it’s like to live in the Xhosa township of Langa. Technically, he’s still single because he doesn’t have enough money to buy “cows” that he can use as payment for a dowry, but he certainly won our hearts over.
There’s Rombo and the other ex-political prisoners of Robben Island who moved us with their true stories of suffering on behalf of equality and freedom. They know what fighting for justice truly means—and we left overwhelmed, moved, and inspired by them.
There’s Ash, a brother with whom vision was birthed quite unexpectedly. What comes of that vision is in God’s hands, but to say our excitement is palpable would be an understatement.
There’s Limpho, the young man who took us on a crash course of the wine that’s found in the country’s oldest vineyard. He poured us much more than just a few ounces of red or white tastings, pouring us cups overflowing with warmth and joy.
And what shall I say of Ethan and Aiya, Fiona and Daniel, Nikki and Hans, Des and Ant; the entrepreneurs-in-training in Somali; the joyful children in Phillippi; the many other men, women, and children on the streets that we were afforded the opportunity to feed and buy groceries; the friendly staff who came to know us as regulars at Cushty’s and Giovanni’s and Bootlegger, our local haunts; the local makers we were inspired by at weekend markets; or even all the Uber drivers that we learned quite a bit from in our brief and lengthy rides together? It’s simply too much.
We can’t tell you exactly when we will be visiting South Africa again, but we certainly know that it is a country of people with kind and open hearts who we will revisit in our most comforting dreams and most fervent prayers as often as we are able. They are a people acquainted with joy, suffering and hope who have expanded our perspective tremendously. A people who saw and welcomed us in ways these words do no justice to define.
South Africa—you incredible people with whom we formed true relationship and from whom we have received bounty too rich to calculate—our sight blurs with tears as we say farewell. But we honor, cherish, and bless you in the mighty name, power, and love of Jesus Christ.
Until we meet again….
Originally posted on Facebook.
