The seasons are turning, and if we pay attention we can feel how God is at work beneath the surface, spring rising softly in one part of the world while autumn settles gently in another, both preaching the same quiet truth: change is not a threat, it is a rhythm, and the Creator who guides the budding and the falling, the growing and the resting, is just as present in the shifting seasons of our lives, inviting us to receive what is, release what must be pruned, and trust that even the uncertain in-between carries the fingerprints of His loving care.

I love fresh flowers in my home. Our garden on the southern tip of Africa provides me with ample pickings. It is a seasonally planned garden, so whether there are sunny days or add-a-log-to-the-fire weather, there is always plenty to cut for the vase. Somehow, no matter how my day is going, a vase of fresh flowers never fails to bring me joy.

Over the past few years, we have presented our Women’s Development Program through our Western Cape Impact Center. It was a new program that we piloted, tested and tweaked until it was ready to roll out to other regions.

The festive music has become quiet, and the decorations are slowly coming down. My home has returned to its familiar rhythms, yet, just days ago, I stood in the kitchen preparing our Christmas Eve meal with Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer playing a little too loudly in the background.

Today is the beginning of Advent. 

Every December, long before we unwrap gifts or gather around tables, the season of Advent invites us into a quieter rhythm. It does not push or pressure. It does not demand. It simply asks us to wait and to prepare.

WE EXCEEDED OUR GOAL!

Our annual Orchard Zoolights gathering brought our community together for an evening that blended celebration with purpose. Set against the festive glow of millions of twinkling lights, families and friends enjoyed comfort food, warm conversation, and the simple joy of being together while supporting Orchard Africa’s work in South Africa.

In a recent gathering, we spoke about how forgiveness is both a pathway of faith and a pathway to faith.

Someone asked, almost in a whisper, “What if I’ve chosen to forgive, but the pain won’t leave me? Does that mean I haven’t really forgiven?”

Every year, our team pauses from the rhythm of daily ministry to gather for a time of rest, renewal, and reconnection. This year’s staff retreat was no exception. It overflowed with laughter, learning, and moments of spiritual refreshing that will shape our service in the year ahead.

Mr. Ngaka Mosweu has lived his entire life in the small rural village of Madutle. As both a father and grandfather, he has invested deeply in the lives of his children and grandchildren. In his younger years, Mr. Mosweu dreamed of making a difference in his community. However, because he never had the opportunity to attend school, he feared his dream would never be realized.

Our Cape Town garden stirs with life from dawn until dusk and into the night. The owls keep to high branches, regal and watchful. The smaller birds flit through the branches, shy and retreating. Squirrels dart across the lawn, intent on mischief, while the wild geese who regularly visit our garden parade in noisy procession down the driveway. At night, frogs sing their endless chorus from the fishpond. The critters in our garden go about living their life, co-existing in the beauty of nature. I find much peace and joy in observing them. Yet, none of them seek my applause. In fact, they try their very best to avoid my attention.

We are deeply grateful for mission teams who partner with us in South Africa. Their time at our Impact Centers may be short, but the impact lasts for years. Recently, students from Baylor University led Early Childhood Development training at our Cape Town Impact Center. Pre-school teachers from the Orchard Network learned about brain development, child milestones, nutrition, and creative play. The team also showed how to make toys from recycled materials, which is an affordable, creative solution for under-resourced schools.

Behind our mission house the wind is stirring up the clouds that rest over the Helderberg mountains. In Cape Town, the rainy season has begun and I give thanks for this supply of life-giving water.  Our ancient, patched-up irrigation system is acting up again and the rain is bringing relief to those dry corners of our garden.   This piece of Africa that we steward is challenging, as is this entire Land.  Teeming with life, our garden is home to humans and critters alike.  Our patch of Africa has wetlands and desert, highlands and valleys and many a hill to die on.

A sliver of light pushed its way through the gap in the curtains, crept over the worn parquet flooring of our house, and caught my eye as I passed with a basket of laundry in hand. I paused and let the sunlight warm me. I stood there longer than I intended, letting the light find me.

Outside, the day was cold and grey. I had brewed a cup of tea that now sat forgotten on the countertop. I had much to do, but that little sunbeam, audacious and stubborn, broke into my ordinary day and insisted I pay attention.

July has seen us in the thick of mission season. It is a joy to see each team bring their unique gifts to help equip the Church to care for the vulnerable. We’ve had teams run preschool-teacher workshops developing their skills for use in classrooms, lead young adults in a program that helps them discover their identity and purpose in God’s kingdom, present VBS programs that bring light and joy to children, participate in women’s development that is so encouraging and filled with the life and love of Christ…

Mayaeyane village is an extremely poor village in a remote part of the North West Province in South Africa. The majority of the community is unemployed and rely on small government grants to survive. Some people may think this is as a hopeless situation. Others may see an opportunity for God to work through the local church to restore joy, peace and an overflow of hope in the community.

Winter has arrived in full force on the southern tip of Africa. The mountains around our mission house are covered in snow, the wind blowing an icy cold into our town. Fireplaces are cranked up high and a lot of warm beverages are being consumed. At this exact same time, the temperatures in the United States are at 90+ degree days with a long summer ahead. Visits to the oceans, lakes or mountains are planned where the breeze is cool and the pace is slow.

Mayaeyane village is an extremely poor village in a remote part of the North West Province in South Africa. The majority of the community is unemployed and rely on small government grants to survive. Some people may think this is as a hopeless situation. Others may see an opportunity for God to work through the local church to restore joy, peace and an overflow of hope in the community.

Owami is a young woman who recently participated in our Young Mothers Development Program.  We met her when she was 8-months pregnant, and things were not going well. While dealing with a myriad of issues, Owami was invited to join the Young Mothers Program through her local church. Here she got to meet other mothers dealing with similar challenges and was able to work through a well-structured program with peer support to help her feel more prepared for motherhood.

Sometimes our world is a place of upheaval and life can feel scary, cruel, or bewildering. We wonder if God even hears us when we cry out. Possibly we even rail at him and protest the suffering we endure. What the future holds is unknown, and control seems to be in the hands of the unpredictable. There were days, not so long ago, that I felt this way.

Marriam Mhlakaza carefully sorts through a bag of red beans that she is about to add to today’s meal. She looks for any beans that are not suitable for the pot. Mirriam slides these to the side of her table and starts preparing the meal for the 180+ children who will arrive at the Fishers of Men Church feeding project.