A Week In The Life In South Africa

Africa has been so different than I expected. I’m not even sure what I expected, but somehow it’s different, better. Every day looks different and the way the Lord has been using my team is incredible. Here’s a look into what a week looks like in Johannesburg, South Africa based on this past week.

Sunday: Church with a local South African community. We were asked to give short testimonies of what the Lord has done in our lives. We sang, we praised, we danced (A LOT). It was cool. The pastor yelled passionately like in the movies and we heard, “Amen” coming from the crowd constantly. We were shook. To be honest, I’ve kinda always wanted to experience a church like that after Madea made it look like fun. And it was.  Afterwards was typical Sunday afternoon things like grocery store and laundry and cleaning for the week and such. I read a book and called a friend, stuff like that. Good day. 

Monday: This is our adventure day. We are off of ministry and free to explore the country. This week we went on a safari. We saw rhinos and zebras and I even got to pet baby lions. We learned so much about animals and even watched a bunch of teenage lions eating a calf. My team thought it was cool to see the calf head hanging from their mouths, I couldn’t hear over the sound of me running away repulsed. Nature is gross. Good day.

Tuesday: School day! Tuesdays we go to a school and talk with the high schoolers about important topics, kinda like a YoungLife type deal. This week’s theme was “identity and purpose”. We talked a lot about how we can only know our identity when we know who it is that created us and we only know our purpose when we know His. For the first class, my team and I just watched the translators as they led so that we could get the hang of it. Before the second class I pulled the translator aside and offered an idea as to how to make the script more relatable and genuine by adding examples and personal stories, less scripted. He loved the idea and had me lead the next 7 classes. One class in particular only had a handful of students so instead we just sat in a circle and had more of a conversation. The floor was opened to the students to ask questions and pick the next topic. Questions came flying in and the translator directed every single one to me. Questions about abortion, teen pregnancy, ancestor worship, witch craft, the Trinity, and what the heck the Gospel even is. 

Heavy stuff, man. I was not prepared. But I took a deep breath, prayed a quick prayer, and trusted that they would hear His words, not mine. I shared parts of my story again, something I used to hate doing, but now can finally see such value in. At one point I was even up at the bright green chalkboard drawing a diagram of the Gospel. I don’t remember half of what I said, again, they weren’t my words. All I know is that He used it. By the end of the two hours, every last one of them asked to receive salvation. We explained it a lot to be sure that they understood, “We get it”, one 16 year old stated softly, “and we’re ready”. I looked around the room to see each one nodded as well. They got it and they wanted it. I led them through the salvation prayer, something I’ve only ever done a handful of times and really was not confident in. At one point I opened my eyes and pleaded with my teammates through facial expressions for ideas of what else to say. But we went with it, and they repeated, and they received it. Then we had a Bible study after school where 30ish students showed up to grow more in their faith and learn about the topic of “potential”. The Lord has made it so clear this year just how much I love teaching His Word. I knew I loved it, but man, when He uses it to meet teens right where they are at, there’s just nothing like it. He used it, He used me. What the heck. Tuesdays are my favorites! Good day. 

Wednesday: We head into squatter villages today. Johannesburg is known as a melting pot of cultures. People from all over Africa come here to find work. They come to Jo-burg and live in these villages full of tan dirt and silver foil-y huts. The goal is always to get a job and find a house, so the turn around is pretty quick here. It could be completely different people in just one year’s time. We walk around getting to know people, sitting with them in the dirt as we help them wash their clothes in the small water spicket, or on crates and boxes as we hear them tell about their hurts, pains, and loved ones they left behind. Today we met a woman who invited us into the corridor where multiple houses spill into. There were about 6 kids there doing handstands. I joined in and we began to all play together as my teammates prayed with the mothers and shared encouraging Scripture with them. We played limbo and danced as more and more kids came flooding in from the houses nearby. We circled up and began playing a game I had learned at our children’s events here. I watched as children came running down the street as they heard our song. At one point I looked up and realized that our small circle had grown… like a lot. 

Somehow our 6 kid circle had multiplied to almost 30. What else do you do when you have the attention of so many little ones? I asked if they wanted to hear a story. I had them sit and told a story, my story. I told them about being sick. I told them how scary and hard it was. I told them about how God healed me. I told them how I prayed and the Lord heard my prayers. They were confused, not about the healing part, about the praying part. I asked if they ever prayed to God, crickets. One little girl said she only prayed at church with her mom. So with my captivated audience made up of early elementary schoolers and preteens, plus the mothers that had gathered to listen in, I spoke on the power of prayer. I told them how He listens. I told them how He cares. Then I prayed over them. The craziest thing happened, towards the end of my prayer I sang a little piece of our song to make them laugh, they did, of course, I’m hilarious. But then I realized that they began repeating my words after that, so since I was still praying, I used it to speak truth over their little lives. Things like, “Thank You God for creating me as Your child. Thank You that You love me. Thank You that I can talk to You anywhere anytime and You will always hear me.” God used a silly little song to bring in ears to hear and a silly little song to teach them who He is. I was so overwhelmed as we walked away. He used me, Kaley Moorhead, some random girl from the Bay Area, who has been through it, but hated telling people about it. But He used it, He used me… AGAIN. What the heck. Good day. 

Thursday: What a week so far. Honestly I went into today expectant. It no longer was, “God, could You use my story?” It was now, “Thank You that You will use my story today. Give me Your words. Give me Your eyes, lead me to the people who need to hear it.” We met a quiet woman, seemingly shy, but clearly hanging on our every word. She said that she loved to sing, so we all sang together, “Good Good Father”. I explained to her the significance of this song and shared parts of my own story. I told her that God loves her and is holding her the way she was holding her sleepy baby in her arms. He looks at her with the same loving eyes. Our translator asked us to go around and tell our favorite Bible story. I looked into her eyes and saw the woman at the well, so that’s the story I told. She teared up. I knelt by her feet and prayed over her as I watched the tears well up and cling to her eyelashes. We gave her a Bible and highlighted Scripture for her to read. She hugged us tight as we encouraged her. 

Then we met my friend Grace, a 26 year old who dreams of one day owning a bakery. She sells donuts at the corner while she saves up to buy an oven to bake cakes. We bought some to support her, but they were actually so good so we bought even more! She spoke to me about all of her siblings and friends from school who were already on their second and third children. She spoke of the societal pressures within the culture and how she is the minority by focusing on her passions instead of finding a man to support her and settling down. Girl, same. We vibed hardcore. She felt like a friend, like someone I was just hanging out with at home. She trusted that God had a plan for her outside of just being a housewife like her mother and her mother’s mother and every woman in her line that had come before them. I told her about times I questioned God’s plan for me. I told her about my plans and dreams and times He has shown me His will for me. He used that to speak to her. I prayed over her as she cried and held on to my arm. She wasn’t grasping on to me, but to the hope that she had a Father who loved her and saw her heart, that she had a future. We talked about God’s good plan for her life, better than she ever could imagine. She had options, more than just the ones that her family saw for her. She left encouraged. I left encouraged. We headed to the school to put on a teen Bible study. As we walked the streets inviting teens, all we found were little kids, but they followed us, so we put on a kid’s event. Not our plan, but clearly His. Another 30 kids heard the Word of God. Good day. 

Friday: Today is kid’s ministry day! We start with community outreach, walking around hearing stories, sharing stories, praying over people. We met a lot of people during the morning, but only talked briefly. Then we headed to another district and set up speakers in the middle of a dirt field surrounded by squatter villages on every side. We had bubbles and frisbees and loads of fun! Almost 200 kids showed up! We danced and played and gave a lesson. One little girl, Issa, 3, really cute but way too old and heavy to be held, wouldn’t let me put her down. It’s two days later and my arms are still sore. But whenever I would even consider putting her down she would wrap her arms around me and press her cheek against mine, gently rubbing my back, making even this old crazy spinster want a baby ASAP. She stuck with me the whole time as we learned about Jesus’ life. Then we went to the next community and did it all again. We left exhausted and covered in dirt, sweat, and whatever the sticky stuff was on Issa’s fingers. My light blue overalls were covered in stains from that adorable little girl. No regrets. We left dirty. They left knowing more about their Father. We left tired. They left having memorized 1 John 5:20. We left hot. They left knowing their Creator in a new way. Again, no regrets. Good Day.

Saturday: Sabbath. Today we do chores around the house and just rest. We wash all the ministry trucks and vans, then sweep and organize the house. We cook for ourselves on the weekends and snack a lot. It’s pretty chill. A good day of rest. I call home to check in, workout, watch a movie, you know, restful things. I journal a lot on these days, remembering all that God has done the week before. Today I was overwhelmed with gratitude. I heard the worship song “Testimony” and teared up out of thanksgiving. The song talks about how the writer had seen many miracles, sick healed, mountains moved, the lame walk, etc, but the most miraculous thing he had seen was God using his life, who he had been, his flaws, all of it. That hit me. I thought back to all of my shame and mistakes, my shortcomings and insecurities, who I had been and who I want to be but fall short of daily. Then I thought about how clearly He has used me and my story this week. He used me. Me. Kaley Moorhead, the girl from the Bay Area. The girl who hated telling her story is now telling strangers on the daily and seeing it seriously change lives. I don’t know what’s crazier, that He uses my story or that He wants to and delights to. I remember crying out to God at 16 years old, praying “Use me, Father.” Then again at 18 and 20 and 22 and 24, and now here we are. Wild. Good day. 

Anyways, as you can see God has been teaching me a lot here in South Africa. He has been telling me that my story and my voice matters for about 25 years now, but here I am, finally leaning in, finally listening, finally learning. So yeah, when I come home I will definitely have some stories to tell. But not just fun ones. Good ones, hard ones, growing ones, not just the happy and easy to tell parts. That’s not really my thing anymore. That’s not really real anyway. I want to tell the hard, scary, nitty gritty, in the face of a struggle stories, because those are the ones that matter. Those are the ones He uses. And He uses me. Me. I know, who would have thought?! Good week. 

Thank You, Lord, for this lesson this week. Thank You for using me and my story and my passions for Your Kingdom. It is the most insane feeling, like an adrenaline junkie. I’m excited and eager to see how You will use me next. I am humbled and awestruck at the very notion that You could use my life in the ways that You have. Thank You. I have nothing more to say, just, thank You.

-K