Learning The Hard Way

I"m painfully uncomfortable asking for help. It's a weakness God's working on in my by putting me in situations where I have no other choice.

He's showing me that if we live as though we don't need anyone else, we're living by the world's standards. And who really wants to exist in a place where we don't need each other? That's a world without relationships. That's a world without God.

So, I'm learning.

I cannot drive here and have no transport on my own - so I have to ask for help.
I cannot speak the local language in communities - so I have to ask for help.
And I cannot live out the work I've been called to do here independently - so I have to ask for help.

I was good at supporting myself, living by myself and taking care of myself in America. But there was a loneliness in it that I couldn't shake.

Needless to say, things have changed! Now I have no means of supporting myself, live in community and depend on others to help me get around. (I'm pretty sure my mom is cringing right now as she reads - Hi Rosa!)

Gut-check.
Culture-check.
Truth-check.

God's shaking me up, pruning off the branches that aren't bearing fruit (John 15) and giving me perspective about what the body of Christ really looks like. My feet have landed here in South Africa. But He has assured me that He will send hearts and hands to keep me from falling. He's reminding me that people all over the world care about the orphan crisis, but were made to care in differnet ways than me. He's teaching me that needing others is inviting them into watching Him work first-hand and into being a part of His Kingdom. Missionaries live all over the world and have all kinds of differnet jobs and realities.

I need your help. Let us not live in a culture of independence, but in a Kingdom culture, recognizing we need one another and we need God's grace.

I'm officially starting support-raising, seeking monthly and one-time donations so sustain me as I live in White River, Mpumalanga, South Africa and work with Ten Thousand Homes. I've reorganized my blog to be information-friendly regarding support-raising and sent out more information via email. I will be traveling to the States for Christmas holidays and would love to speak with churches, small groups and have coffee dates with anyone interested in what I'm doing here.

Please help spread the word.
Thank you to those who have encouraged me in my insecurities and fears. Please keep praying with me that I embrace this Kingdom culture rather than running back toward independence. Also, please pray for provision and that God will move in the hearts of His children to support me and know me through this process.

If you'd like more info, please feel free to email me at kacychaffin@gmail.com

Candle Light-Up-My-Life

A tiny mud house. A candle to light the night. An entire soccer team in the front yard. And a dream built on hope, love and family.

Last weekend Keri and I went to Swaziland, where I met Petros and his wife Elisabeth for the first time. We visited their home twice while we were there. Up the mountain, down the dirt road, climb over the barbed wire until you see the small patch of Home in the community of Motjane.

Petros and Elisabeth live meagerly. They have very little for themselves and their children, yet they have spent the past years pouring into discipleship with YWAM Swazi and their local church.

They have 6 children, but have now taken on 7 more orphaned family members. Both Petros and Elisabeth have lost sisters recently and have welcomed their children into their home. They are now a family of 15, and their house is bursting at the seams. There’s not room for all of them inside, so a few of the boys sleep in a small hut outside.

We were welcomed in and served tea, bread and polony by one of the children who prayed over us before serving us. We chatted about the hardships, the blessings and the hope Petros and Elisabeth have.

My favorite part was when they invited all of the children into the small living room to sing for us – 13 kids in that tiny house beats movie theater surround sound any day!

I watched the children and the way both Petros and Elisabeth love them so tenderly. Over half of these kids are orphans. And there are 13 of them! If anyone should be lonely, hurting or broken, it should be them. Many times when I go to the feeding programs here with Ten Thousand Homes, children are desperate for touch and will wrap themselves around your or instantly fall asleep in your arms – or the other extreme, they’ll flinch when you reach out to touch them. Not these kids. You could tell in their walk, their talk, their interaction, and the way their family worked that these kids feel loved; they have hope; they are dreaming.

Petros can’t work for YWAM the way they have been for years anymore and he’s broken up about it. He doesn’t want to leave ministry, but he has to take care of these kids. There’s no one else.

Last weekend I got a first row seat to hearing God breath and vision into a cultural family obligation. It’s called the Road to Hope.

Petros and Elisabeth are not leaving ministry at all. They are starting at the roots. Their ministry, their harvest, is those 13 children who will grow up knowing who God is, knowing how much He loves them, and with a vision for their future.

They dream of building onto their house and using it as a base for The Road to Hope – a ministry focused on discipling families and raising children up to dream and have hope.

I just couldn’t believe the warmth and the overflowing passion and energy they had. Raising 13 children and wanting to do more. Can you imagine how long it takes to hand wash for 15 people!?! And the cooking! I get cranky when I have dish duty (with hot, running water!) too many days in a row or when the electricity goes out for a couple of hours.

Petros and Elisabeth give freely as they have been given freely. (Matthew 10:8) They don’t measure success in possessions or plans, but in love and hope.

Petros, Elisabeth and 10 of their 13 children

I’m praying this for myself and for you this week:

Wherever you are, let God breath vision there. Let us not become consumers of love, but givers of it. It’s time to stop counting and measuring. It’s time to see the darkness and shine the light there. Look for it – both the light and the darkness. Celebrate it when you find it, and bring it where you don’t.

Turning mountains into moments.

One more week of adjusting to this "new normal", and God's faithfulness is written all over it. There have been moments where I've wondered what I'm doing here - even wondering if I've gotten this all wrong.

And then God gives me a moment:

A leopard walking out in front of our car at Kruger Park.

Watching Isabelle steal kisses and hugs from Lifa at the Ten Thousand Homes Staff vs. Mbonisweni soccer game.

Celebrating culture from far away - featuring an American soundtrack, sweet tea and I even snuck in a little "God Blessed Texas".

Trying to carry a bed up a mountain to squeeze into a tiny home for a family to have a nice place to sleep.

It's small moments this week that God's used to remind me that he hears and answers every single prayer. He's shown me that, since I lost my house on earth, He's given me a million more and deeper experiences of Home that I might not have known from my comfort zone.

It reminded me of what Jesus said, "Whoever finds his life wil llose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." (Mt 10:39)

With every moment, that makes a little more sense to me.

Pray for safe travels and more moments for me this weekend. I will be travelilng to Swaziland (a few hours taxi ride) with another staff member, Keri, to the Swazi YWAM base. We are going to share stories, build relationships and to dream alongside them. I can't wait to share pictures and stories when I return on Sunday!

Walk It Out

I used to have an iPhone.


And, when I had an iPhone, I would sometimes scare myself at how much information I could access at one time … and on a touch-screen for that matter!

It’s only been six months, but it’s strange to me to think about unlimited, high-speed internet access all the time, anywhere you go. I could find the nearest coffee shop, read the reviews, get directions and call for business hours within seconds… while driving… on that hand-held piece of goodness.

It has always been normal to be in high-speed, hyper-productive mode. I got even better at it when I started drinking coffee!

But now it’s time for a new normal.

I’m used to running; and now it’s time to walk… alongside the community-members here, a group of God’s chosen and dearly loved children, appointed to bear fruit that will last.

The new normal comes with a lot of waiting, being still, a new mind frame and vocabulary regarding time and place, and taking time to go beyond language barriers and culture clashes to build relationships.

Sometimes I feel like I spend all my time talking in circles or walking too slow. (It’s safe to say I haven’t “mastered” this new normal quite yet.)

Then a child runs up that I haven’t seen in months, calling my name and asking me what day my church will come. Or I receive a real, genuine hug and a handful of avocados. Or God sends a team here that renews the heart, the vision and Home in me.

Just when I start to get tired of the “scenic route” and I get ready to run as fast as I can, Jesus moves in that subtle, loving way He has and reminds me that this isn’t a race.

This orphan crisis, or any of the other injustices or pain we deal with daily, is not a “project” to be completed by a certain person.

I have a feeling that this new normal I’m dipping my toes in will involve a big, fat perspective check. I’m learning (at an even slower pace than I’m walking) that we are to live like a family, not like super-heroes trying to “fix” it all before the detonator goes off.

We can each only do our part to make the earth look a little more like the Kingdom.

My new normal includes learning to celebrate that the part of the Kingdom I get to walk in is colorful, runs on relationships first, and is right in-step with Jesus walking beside me.

Naps and News

I’ve held sleeping babies all day today.


Every time I go to Mbonisweni, one of the communities Ten Thousand Homes works in, I walk straight to my family’s house- the family I stayed with for 5 days in March during our community stay. After lots of greetings, hugs, kisses, and usually GoGo (grandma) giving me some fruit, I typically help the youngest boys, Tepiso and Lifa get dressed and take them to church with me. The rest of the family comes when they are finished with chores.

Nothing makes me happier than walking down that dirt road with Tepiso on one side and Lifa on the other. (If you haven’t heard, I am completely in love with 2-year old Lifa. He lives at Tepiso’s house because he doesn’t have parents to care for him. And I’m pretty sure that once Tepiso’s cousin told me in Swati that I could keep Lifa.)

Today, I held baby Fiona while Tepiso’s mom took a shower, and as soon as she was in my arms, she was asleep. Later, at church, as soon as I sat down with Lifa on my lap he was sleeping, and when I looked at Tepiso sitting next to me, his little head was bobbing up and down until he finally laid on what lap I had left.

I listened to the other children sing while I watched Lifa sleep, and thought about how amazing it is that these kids long so much for safe and loving arms to rest in.

Isn’t that what we all want?

When we’re little, we often deflect naps with every trick in the book. We sing and dance and fight with all the fight we’ve got to keep our eyes open. (If only we knew then how precious naps are as grown-ups!) We don’t want to miss a moment, and we certainly don’t want to lose the feeling of having control in a situation. We don’t admit to needing a nap and think we can handle it all by ourselves. Sometimes we refuse to surrender until a warm embrace swoops us up and we can’t resist giving in to that love that is so much bigger than us.

In the past few weeks, I’ve been fighting rest. I’ve sang and danced and entertained thoughts of exciting new ministry programs, life plans and adventures. I’ve fought against hearing God say what I thought He was going to say. You could even call it a full-blown temper tantrum which then led immediately to denial.

But as I watched Lifa today, I realized that this is how it’s supposed to be. Whenever Lifa sees me, he looks at me, longing for me to call to him and then crawls right into my lap and settles in to rest in the safety of loving arms. It doesn’t matter what’s going on around him, who’s there, or how long he’s been there. And he knows I’ll wake him up in time to get his meal.

It’s time for me to sit and get comfortable in God’s safe and loving arms. Time to do what He’s calling me to do rather than try to keep myself awake and in control.

I’ve decided to join staff at Ten Thousand Homes in South Africa. I’m not sure how long I will be here for, but I’m making this “home” now.

In the past weeks, God has reminded me of the vision He cast in me years ago, the passions He gave me and the ways He created me. (Another blog, another time.) He has shown me that I’ve been obedient in following Him, but I’ve become more comfortable in the song and dance part than the actual serving Him part.

It’s time to not be “on a mission trip” anymore, and it’s time to live as His obedient child- living life the way He’s taught me to amidst the orphan crisis. It’s making the Kingdom my culture wherever I am. And, right now, I am here.
I want to live with trust in the love that’s too big for me to see. I want to live with an open heart and a full lap.

“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” -2Cor 4:18

I have no idea what this looks like yet or how to live it out, but I know it’s right. I am asking for your prayers though that I keep resting in Him and not struggle to keep control. I’m trying to adjust to living in a new culture, doing a new kind of work, and living a new lifestyle. I didn’t plan to come to Africa in January and not MOVE back to the States. On some days, I’m completely freaked out and lonely. On others, I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing. As of now, I plan on settling in here until November and then coming to the States for a holiday/fundraising trip.

Also, please pray for me in the details. I will be seeking monthly support now, applying for a visa, and nesting on the opposite side of the world from all my family and friends. I don’t know how to do any of this stuff. (And I welcome your suggestions.)

I plan on blogging through this process because, like I’ve said over and over and over again, you are such an important part of what Home is to me. In my relationship with you, I feel valuable and loved and like I belong. You are a part of how I experienced the very love that compels me to be here. It’s important for me to stay connected to you. Please keep in touch and keep sharing your life stories with me.

And, you are always welcome to visit my new place. ;)

The Processing Process

I've spent the last weeks remembering, processing and celebrating our outreach to Zambia and Johanessburg, South Africa. I want to share a glimpse of my experience with you and invite you to stay tuned for an update about what's next soon!

I'm Probably Gonna Talk About Home and Jesus and stuff.

I miss you! I miss you! I miss you! No matter who’s reading this, it’s probably true.


It’s been a very different week of goodbyes and readjustments. Last Saturday night the ZamFam – our DTS class – graduated.

We were given one last project as a class – to come up with a theme and decorate for our graduation. We all knew instantly that our ZamFam was all about Home and Family. In some way, we’d all been on a journey as individuals and as a group to understand our place at Home, the Kingdom of God, and how to live in a family, or community, with each other.

We collected couches from around base, built fires in the fire pit, made coffee, framed family photos, and hung up curtains. We made home out of our physical reminders of home while we made dorky I-Miss-You videos for our Beautiful Princess, Bekah and danced to Michael Jackson.

We danced and giggled for one last night together before facing the reality the next day of saying goodbye to our family, those who stood beside us and prayed with us as we walked toward and began to embrace our identities in Christ.

This goodbye felt different, though. This was a goodbye to family scattering all over the world, knowing it is very unlikely we’ll ever all be together again and that we were all about to face our own battles of sticking with what we learned outside the bubble.

There were tears, so many tears, because theses are some GOOD people I was saying goodbye to, but deep down inside I felt God’s presence in a new way.

After we lost our house in Alvin almost five years ago, I struggled and struggled to feel at-home somewhere. I just couldn’t figure out where I belonged. Eventually, I started to understand that Home is the Kingdom of God. We all have a place to belong there; we all have received full inheritance as sons and daughters of the Living King.

Did you read that – FULL inheritance!?! That’s the real deal. Even though we are sinners, we don’t get treated like the step-child. Even when we run away and do that prodigal son thing, our Daddy throws dignity out the window, hikes up his robe and comes running, shouting “Welcome Home!!” and planning the party of the year.

“Give thanks to the Father who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the Kingdom of light.” –Colossians 1:12

And our God is a relational God – He even exists in relationship as the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. So I began to understand Home in relationship with others. And I realized in Zambia that, for a girl whose felt homeless for the last 5 years, I’ve had more Home than most people ever know. Complete welcome, unconditional love and belonging. My family. The Dam Fam. The ZamFam. The Chang Ladies. Lily and Eve. Bay Area Community Church. Christian Assembly. 8:59. Phi Lamb. Ten Boomers.

Over and over and over God has been teaching me about Home, and that He will always be Home for me.

That’s when everything changed. I realized that the relationships – all you wonderful people (Sorry if I didn’t mention you. It’s just a sampler.) – are pictures of the way God loves. As close as we can get here on earth to knowing what the REAL Home is like.

But the part I hadn’t quite grasped yet, and the reason that everything felt different when I said goodbye to my ZamFam last week, was that GOD IS HOME.

“Jesus replied, ‘If anyone loves me, he will obey my teaching. My Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.” –John 14:23

Home isn’t the ZamFam. Home isn’t the big red couch or even all the talks on it. Those are reminders and the physical manifestations of my real Home. And I am so, so, so thankful for the pieces of Home on earth we are given – and for the ways you’ve been Home to me.

This week I’ve been praying for this next ZamFamless chapter. It’s the first time I’ve really started into a chapter of life with no parameters. There’s no program, no time frame, no schedule. And it’s so much scarier to me than jumping into some wild and crazy adventure that I know nothing about for a defined chunk of time. Please pray with me that I hear God’s voice, trust Him more than I ever have, submit all the parts of me that are fighting against it right now, and obey with complete and humble surrender. Pray with me to expect His glory and His voice to show up everyday.

Been having technical difficulties (you can pray for my computer too!) and minimal internet connection, but hoping to get some more pics up from DTS next week. Hope to talk with you soon!