faith moves mountains

Dear Family,

The weather is getting hotter as we continue through February. Our water comes from a big (1000L), black tank (lower emissivity) on the roof, and right before we go back out at 3 in the afternoon, the water comes out at the perfect temperature for a morning shower. Unfortunately, morning showers happen in the mornings, and the water gets nice and cool all night.

About every other day, all the missionaries in our zone gather at a nearby chapel and play soccer. The church buildings are smaller here, usually accompanied by an outdoor, concrete basketball/soccer "field": thereon we play between 6 and 7am under the light of dawn. But surprising sunrises do little to stop the game. That excercise, combined with walking (uphill both ways) through Pueblo Libre every day for a couple months, helps us keep going throughout the day and not tire of it.

We were teaching a lesson this week to a woman named Nancy - she lives in the house on the corner of the block. It's a little more significant when you have the house on the corner here: you have two exterior walls, whereas all the other houses are packed side by side and you only see the front. As we were teaching, I sat on the broken couch with the window at my back; my companion was off to the right a bit, with a wall at his back in a similar chair. Outside, some kids were playing with a soccer ball; somebody kicked it hard and it smashed one of the panes above my head, showering the room with glass shards. I felt a few of them fly past my head, but none of them touched me. When the dust settled, I found just two tiny particles of glass stuck in my arm-hair and combed them out. Nancy was a polio victim as a child and has ever since used a wheelchair, so I grabbed the broom and swept up the broken glass, and we continued teaching. I was grateful for the Lord's protection as we were doing His work, and I offered a silent prayer of thanks as we left the house.

We played volleyball in the street for a couple minutes with some young investigators the other night; they were a little more prone to listen to us after that, and they even came to church yesterday, too. We're going to play with some members here in an hour, so that should be fun. The youth in our ward are great, as well as the young single adults - we're hoping that the other adults will follow their example and start to build similar friendships to increase the unity in our ward (Zion: where members are friends outside the chapel). Attendance is getting better: we're getting to the point where we might need to open the partition and set up more chairs to accomodate everyone.

I read Mosiah 18 again this week, and a whole new perspective stuck out to me. I wondered how 204 members could increase to 450 without any missionary involvement (preaching the gospel in public was the fastest way to a martyr's grave). It helped me understand a lot by thinking about the way Alma organized teachers in the church and the way every member ministered to the needs of others. It reminds me of Robin Hood, but with less "robbing the rich" and more "feeding the poor," doing what's right in spite of wicked kings.

We had a service activity this week that involved moving a large pile of dirt (more accurately, sand) from the back "yard" of a member in to the front "yard." We were directed to pull up all the plants growing in the front and there pile the dirt. We carried it bucket by bucket through the house until we were directed to stop. My arms are still a little sore, but I felt good about getting a lot done. I'm not sure if I prefer bucking hay or hauling sand (either way, the undesired substance seems to reach the nethermost parts of any clothing worn); at least we had a time limit, rather than a goal of moving the whole earth.

Thanks for your letters and your prayers! I know the Lord is watching over all of you and pray that we can all see even more how His hand is working in our lives.

Love,
Elder Withers