faith, works, and grace (moving mountains and moving to the mountains)

Dear Family,

This week was the last one of this transfer, and Friday night brought the surprising news that I'm again to leave an area after 3 months. I'm headed off to a place called Cajamarca (Cajamarca Stake, Chontapaccha Ward), a city in the mountains that lies some 6-7 hours north-north-east of Trujillo. From what I hear, it's a land where the surrounding mountains are green, the rains are frequent and powerful, and the earth flows with milk and honey (presumably purchased without money and without price). The rains this summer have been especially bad such that some highways are closed, so we might have to go the long way there - I'm not sure exactly how many more hours that will take, but I'm consoled by the fact that it won't be a ride in one of the sardine-can-with-wheels buses that I'm accustomed to riding here in the city. Just about every missionary I've talked to has dreamed of going to Cajamarca, so I'm excited to get my chance. I'll find a way to send some pictures home the long way so that you can see for yourselves if the views are as breathtaking as they say.

On Saturday, we had another "Dia de Gracia" in a neighboring zone (one of the most dangerous zones in Trujillo, they say). We started out the morning with a service project at a local library/cultural center. They directed us to the vacant lot next door - also owned by the center - and we began to clear the rocks that were scattered throughout the lot and pile them up near the road. Then we - that is, some sixteen missionaries and seven local Priesthood leaders, two wheelbarrows, five shovels, and two rakes - commenced leveling the rather lop-sided lot of sand. After four hours of hard work, we were rewarded with cold beverages and pulled chicken sandwiches. My companion and I went with the companionship from the area to their room and showered (after emptying two pounds of sand from my shoes), then ran back to the church for lunch. As might be reasonably understood, we were positively exhausted before hitting 3pm, at which hour we divided up with the Priesthood brethren to go visit less-active members.

We had a list of about twenty families and individuals to visit, but very few were home. After two and a half hours of walking, knocking doors, and asking neighbors if they knew anybody named Ademar, Celinda, or any family with the last names Parimango, Polo, or Sanchez, we began the long walk back to the church. We stopped by one member's home to drop off a package that had been given us, and she invited us in and to take a seat (at such invitation, I think the entire party felt to cry for joy - both to rest the aching feet and to be able to share the light we had been sent to shine). We sang a hymn ("Yo sé que vive mi Señor") and we bore our testimonies of the mission and life of Jesus Christ, then left with a prayer. It may not have seemed like much, a 7-minute interview during three and a half hours of being out, and the only person who let us into their home: but I was determined to be successful and not get discouraged. We brought the Spirit into a home that didn't even have electricity. And it's amazing what a simple testimony of the Savior's love can do to lighten the bearer's spirit. Despite the discouraging circumstances and physical fatigue, I was able to wear a smile the whole afternoon. I guess there's a reason why they call it a "day of grace" ("it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do").

As I said good-bye to people this week, I was impressed by the faith of the few people who joined the church during my time in Pueblo Libre. One of them is an elderly man named Heradio, who, approaching the age of 79 this month, has shown youthful excitement in being a new member of the church. When I told him I was leaving, he expressed his thanks and his original feelings upon meeting the missionaries, that he didn't really think of coming to this church. I'm happy to report that he hasn't missed a day of church in 5 months. Another wonderful example was a young woman named Xiomara. Although she suffers from a physical impediment (not obvious, but such that it causes her to feel different than the rest), she has become friends with the youth in the church and faithfully comes to meetings, seminary, mutual, and even shares the Gospel with her friends and neighbors. The youth in the ward have shown exceptional love, reaching out and inviting their peers to come to church and seminary, consoling them in their trials and forming lasting relationships. It makes me want to be in the youth programs all over again: that's where the greatest miracles happen.

It's another bittersweet moment as I pack my things and get ready to head to a new place with new people, but I'm confident that the Lord will be teaching me even more how to be an instrument in His hands. I'll be writing next week from somewhere in Cajamarca, so I'll let you all know what it's like. Thank you for the sustaining influence provided by your prayers, thoughts, and encouraging letters.

Love,
Elder Withers