It’s summer again in Jo’burg.  The streets of the northern suburbs are awash today with fragments of leaves, pummeled ruthlessly from the trees in yesterday’s hailstorm.

I saw it as I was approaching the city on the freeway from the south yesterday, a rolling mass of clouds towering so high you couldn’t see the top, with bolt of lightning following bolt of lightning.  Before I knew it, I was in the midst of the storm: hailstones, lightning, water an inch deep all over the road. I took shelter with a dozen other hastily-parked cars under a bridge, and there, together, we watched the heavens come down.

And as the storm roared, I realised that Jo’burg life is often like this: extreme, chaotic but incredibly beautiful. And that’s why I love the place.

I can’t believe I’ve been here a year! I’ve been robbed, hand-cuffed, imprisoned, banned from a shopping mall and my house has burnt down, but it’s probably been one of the best years of my life.

Ministry has been intense " especially amongst the homeless guys. They’re constantly hatching plans for me to take them to Australia in a bag.

“Now I don’t want to hear about any more problems with the suitcase,” David insisted tonight.

I’ve seen how complicated it is to do church in a deeply diverse society: music’s a minefield at any church, but combine the usual taste issues with language, culture and a history of oppression and you’ve got a real cocktail.

I’ve realised what Jesus’ triumph over the powers and principalities in the heavenly realms means to someone with a deeply spiritual worldview " students whose ancestors speak to them in their dreams, encouraging them to forget Jesus and the gospel.

I’ve waited eight hours in queues at government departments and sat in the dark while the electricity company ‘load-shed’ because there’s not enough electricity to go around.

I’ve seen monkeys skip through the trees in KwaZulu Natal and the sun rise over the highland plains.

I’ve had people take pictures of me from other cars as I drove a minibus full of black students " usually minibus taxis are the public transport in South Africa and a white taxi driver is unthinkable.

I’ve studied the Scriptures at Bible College with Sudanese political refugees and South African businessmen.

I’ve learned to dance (a little), and to sing in four different languages.

And I’ve known God far more deeply than I could have ever imagined: his grace, his glory, and the joy in following him.  And I’ve realised at the same time that I’m only just beginning to understand him.

So I’m coming back for more.  I’ll be back in Australia over Christmas, but my church here is so keen for me to stay another year that they’ve already sorted out a return ticket! It’s exciting: I think I’m only just learning enough about myself and the culture to begin being really effective in what I’m doing " and after next year, possibly God is calling me to college and further ministry.

Please pray for South Africa.  Pray for unity among believers, for the Scriptures to become more central to church life, for the government, for continuing racial reconciliation and societal transformation, and the more equitable distribution of wealth. Pray for abused women and those suffering from HIV. And pray that the Lordship of Christ may be proclaimed and lived here " that need is the same here as anywhere. It’s been a good year. Thanks for being a part of it.