This week as I was casually signing the umpteen parental consent form for one of my children, I took a double look at the date. I realised that 18 years ago, I flew to South Africa to live. An awful lot has happened in that time; in our family and in ministry. Eighteen years ago, Alun and I knew nothing of parenting or leading a church, much less one on the Cape Flats. We had never eaten Akni or Melktert, we had never been a victim of crime or gone to bed hearing gunshots; loadshedding was not a word in our vocabulary, day zero meant nothing; the only Afrikaans we knew was a few short phrases learnt on our short-term stints. Never had a friend tell us they hadn’t eaten for several days as their wages simply weren’t enough; only seldom had we ever thought about our race or the privilege of education and healthcare. We didn’t yet know the trauma of adoption or its beauty. As we ‘come of age’ in Heideveld, we reflect on the tremendous bounty that this community has shared with us – a bounty that is rooted in deep relationships and the gospel. A bounty that has embraced us as foreigners; a bounty of people that have generously shared life with us, trusting us to share their deep pain and rejoice in their wonderful joys. We have grown. God’s kingdom has grown.