So Little Time - August newsletter

Dear Faithful Friends,


We returned to our home in Georgia after a 10-week trip. During that time, we travelled by car through the upper Midwest, Canada, Maine, and back home. We also flew from Boston to Peru and back again. We give thanks for God’s grace for His protection and enablement. Even though we felt constrained by our limited time in each place, we are thankful that God, who is not bound by time, can multiply our short time and our meager ministry to do great things to glorify His name.

Four years ago, we met Daniel and Sonia Araujo who are investing their lives in making disciples in Arequipa, Peru. It was good to walk into their church on that first Sunday morning and see some familiar faces and new ones as well. Many improvements have been made to the church building. In addition, their son Junior was only beginning to be fully involved in the work of the ministry four years ago. He is now an integral part of their team. In fact, he is largely responsible for a new church
plant in Majes, a desert town about two hours away.

We arrived in Arequipa on June 20. For the next two weeks, we taught every night. Charlie taught a course on Hermeneutics where more than thirty people attended, and nine completed the course The following week, Joan taught on Christian Education. Forty people attended her course, and ten also completed the course work.  On Sundays, Charlie preached in various locations.

On our second Monday, we traveled seven hours over the mountains to a remote village in the Ubinas district. More than a decade ago, God placed this area on Daniel’s heart and he began to make the long journey over the mountains to win people there to the Lord. The growth has been slow, but now several of these villages have a small church. On the day we were there, six small local assemblies gathered for a big celebration together that included a baptism, a feast of alpaca stew, and a combined evening service. Charlie also had the privilege of preaching that day, and our nephew, Jeremy, who joined us on the trip, was his interpreter through most of those days in Arequipa.

The Araujos feel the pressure of time. What pastor do we know here in the US who is pastoring one church, filling in as pastor for another, planting a third church and working as a missionary in a district of multiple towns where there is no church?  So many people to win and disciple. So little time.

From Lima, we flew to Iquitos, the largest city in the world that is unreachable by road. Pastor Giovanni Avendaño, IPM’s Latin America director, met us there. From there, we took a boat down the Amazon River to the town of Mazan. For the next three days, we met with four men who are interested in becoming missionaries with IPM. Charlie taught classes that would help the men in their respective ministries – Communication; Dealing with Anger; Church Discipline; Marriage and Divorce; etc. Joan gave an introduction to IPM’s Children’s Ministry. Brother Giovanni went over IPM’s Policy and Procedure manual. When we were done, the four men were very appreciative. One of them told us as we were getting ready to leave, “Thank you for coming. I was so discouraged that I was ready to give up on ministry and go back to secular work. Now I feel ready to go back. I know I have made many mistakes simply because I did not understand God’s way of doing things. Pray for me and my family as I make the changes we need.” With limited resources, these men are struggling to make a difference in their areas for Christ. Pray for them.  On the Amazon River as well, there are so many souls, and so little time.

Peru has many children and often we were enchanted by their smiles and friendliness (some of the Mazan children are pictured on left).  It was obvious that Peru is an area where children’s ministry is needed. One night when we were sitting in a restaurant in Mazan, we saw four teenagers carrying a
stretcher to the hospital. The form on the stretcher was small and covered by a sheet. The restaurant owner told us, “He died this morning. He is the second ten year-old boy to die this week. The other one drowned on Sunday afternoon.” So many children. So little time.

We came back with hearts burdened for Peru, and especially Mazan and all the needs there. Please pray for IPM as they determine the best way forward to help these men.

In October, we are planning to go to Uruguay for IPM’s regional conference. We want to connect personally with IPM’s missionaries from all over Latin America and inquire how we can best help them. Joan is hoping to have a sample copy of a VBS curriculum for them to look over. Pray that God would help her complete that in time and that we would be able to get it translated as well. Pray, too, that God would supply the $3,000 we need to make this trip.

Thank you for your prayers for us. We felt God’s enabling grace on this trip and we saw His hand redirecting our steps.  Without Him, it would have been a disaster. It would have been so much time, with so little accomplished. Instead, because of God’s work, we believe that much was accomplished that will last into eternity.

Co-laboring together with you,
Charlie and Joan Farley

The 26-Hour Day

The sleep of a labouring man is sweet.  Ecclesiastes 5:12

At 2:45 a.m. I heard it - an alarm going off in another room.  We lay in bed, waiting for it to stop, but its owner did not respond.  After about ten minutes, it finally stopped.  Now we were fully awake, on about three hours of sleep.  Five minutes later our alarm sounded.    

At 3:45 a.m., we climbed into the back row of the 12-passenger van. The pastor’s family climbed in after us.   Four-year-old Abigail slept through the transfer from her bed to the van.  Junior, the pastor’s only son, drove to the first stop where we picked up a mother and her seven-year-old son.  They joined us in the back row.  After several more stops, the van was stuffed with twelve adults, two children, and miscellaneous bags at people’s feet.  Another car, also filled with passengers, started to follow us.  At the gas station, Junior filled the van’s tank as well as a five-gallon jerry can.  One of the men climbed to the roof to tie the jerry can up there with some other luggage.  Now it was 4:45 a.m., and we were finally on our way out of the city.

The van sped up when it arrived at the highway.  I settled into my seat, leaning against Charlie, hoping for some more sleep.  After about five minutes on the open highway, we turned off and started the ascent up the mountain on a gravel road.   Twists, turns, and bumps in the road kept sleep away, but eventually I dozed a little.  

A couple hours later, at the entrance to a tunnel through part of the mountain, we stopped to wait for the other vehicle that had fallen behind.

“Can we get out?” I asked.  Charlie’s knees were bumping up against the seat in front of us, and my legs were longing for a stretch.  They let us all out, and the men made a beeline for the bushes.  “If you need it,” I was told, “the tunnel up ahead will provide privacy.”  

Around us, the sun continued to rise, casting shadows on the mountains, slowly reaching into the valleys.  Misti, the volcano that guards Arequipa, was showing off his beauty, and the passengers’ cell phone cameras were capturing the scene.  

Before too long, the other car caught up with us, and we reloaded into the vehicle.  

“Is it possible for Charlie to sit somewhere else?” I asked.  His legs were really too long for the back row.  This time they let Charlie and me sit up in the row behind the driver.  The change in seating turned out to be a greater blessing than I realized at the time.

A couple hours later, Charlie asked them to stop.  The twists and turns of the mountain roads had finally caught up with him, and he was sick to his stomach.  Junior quickly stopped and yanked open Charlie’s door.  He got out just in time.  Sonia, the pastor’s wife, prepared some tea with hot water from a thermos and gave it to him.  It helped settle his stomach, and we were once again on our way.  On and on we traveled, bumping and turning.  Eventually I dozed again. 

By 8:30 my stomach was growling, and I wondered if there would be a stop for breakfast.  But we kept going.  On and on we rode, winding our way up to the 16,000-foot mountain pass, high above the tree line.  

“Look!” someone shouted pointing to one of the volcanoes in the distance.  Volcano Ubinas had just burped.  A cloud formed above and grew larger and larger as steam and ash rose into the sky.

Bumping over the gravel and feeling my stomach lurch, we continued in a descent over the other side of this mountain pass.  Trees, birds, and insects reappeared.  Mile after mile of terraced farming hugged the sides of the mountains.  Our van hugged the mountain, avoiding getting to close to the side where it dropped off into deep canyons.

I kept thinking we must soon be arriving at our final destination.  After almost six hours of travel, we rounded a bend.  A crowd of people stood on the side of the road with large bags of goods.  They were members of the church in that town.  Junior stopped to greet them and began to talk to them about how to get them to our ultimate destination.

“Junior,” Sonia called out to her son.  “Why don’t some of us get out and they can ride?  They have been waiting a long time for you.  Some of us can wait here for you to get back.”

I welcomed the idea of putting my feet on the ground to allow my stomach to settle.  We got out.  They got in.  After they left, the eight of us started walking down the road at a leisurely pace along the river gorge.  I stopped frequently to take pictures of the blue skies, desert hills, and the green valley below us where the grey river sparkled in the sunlight.  After about an hour of walking, we saw the van approach.  Junior turned around and picked us up, and we drove on for another half hour to the village of Cadagua.    

“Breakfast is waiting,” we were told when we arrived.  It was now 1:00 p.m.  

We followed our hosts to the back of the house.  A corrugated metal roof and a small tarp provided shade.  There people sat on benches, boxes, and a few chairs.  Steaming plates of noodles and a red sauce with mystery meat came out of the kitchen.  Since we were surrounded by guinea pig cages, it was no surprise when we later discovered that most of the meat in the sauce was guinea pig.  I should have known when I discovered the small head in the sauce.  I did not eat much.  My stomach was still turning after all the hairpin turns, so one of the young men in our group finished my plate for me.

Evidently, both Charlie and I looked a little green.  One of the women from the Arequipa church came over.  

“Would you like a cup of tea and some soda crackers?” she asked kindly.  

That sounded like just the right thing for our upset stomachs.  We leaned back into the wooden bench and waited while she found cups and prepared us some tea.  As we sat quietly drinking our tea, the women   One man stood next to a table and sawed his way through the bones of an animal, adding the chunks of meat to the pots as well. Children played, swinging from the rafters of the corrugated awning and teasing the guinea pigs.

swirled around us, cutting up vegetables, and adding them to the large pots on the fire.

“It’s time to start the program,” Junior called to everyone.

We joined him in front of the house.  There to one side of this town’s Main Street sat a truck-tire  tub overflowing with water.  Junior began the service, leading the group in singing with his guitar.  “He decidido seguir a Cristo.”  (I have decided to follow Jesus.)  Our voices filled the mountain air.  A few people emerged from neighboring houses to join us to see what was going on.

After singing several songs, Pastor Daniel Araujo stepped forward.  Carefully, he explained what baptism was and why this teenage girl had decided to be baptized.  

 

 “Please share with this group why you have decided to obey the Lord in baptism today,” he instructed her.  Joy flowed from her while she reverently shared her faith in Jesus Christ.  Then she stepped into the frigid water, sat down in the tub, and was baptized in its confined space.  When she arose shivering, we sang again.

When the baptism service ended, Junior once again shouted out instructions. “If everyone would head to the community center, we will be showing a Christian movie,” he announced.   

He drove the van over to the community center and began to set up the computer projection system for the movie.  Men hung a white sheet on one wall of the community building.  People rearranged chairs to face the “screen”.  Soon we were all watching “Facing the Giants” in Spanish.  I went to see if I could find a place to sleep in the van, but someone else had already thought of that idea, and I was afraid to wake them by opening a door.  So Charlie and I sat against the back wall, and I dozed for a while, my head on his lap.

By the time the movie was over, the huge pots of stew we had seen over at the house had been carried to the community center kitchen.  We dragged our chairs from one side of the center to where tables had been set up on the other side.  

Apparently we were the honored guests because our table was served first.  Charlie and I insisted on sharing a bowl since we knew we were both still too queasy to each much.  Several varieties of potatoes, huge pieces of squash, sweet carrots, and alpaca meat were served us.  Delicious.

The conversation in the room lulled as people began to enjoy their food.  An alpaca feast is a rare and welcome event, and the whole community had been invited.  When the last plate of food had been served, those of us who had received food first were done.  Women went into the kitchen to wash up metal plates.  Men washed down wooden table tops, folded their metal bases and stored them in the corner.  They quickly stacked the blue and white plastic chairs in another corner.  When the work was done, the last event of the day was announced – a church service.  Everyone moved back to the other side of the room to enjoy that event together.  

Singing and testimonies were shared as the various churches represented took turns to give testimony to God’s blessings in their lives. This gathering of believers represented people from five of the surrounding villages as well as those of us who had come from Arequipa.  In addition, many of the people from town had come for the feast and to see what else was happening.  Charlie was invited to preach, and our nephew, Jeremy, translated for him.

When it was all over, it was 9:00 at night, and I was anxious to go home, but there were still people who needed to go home before we could leave.  Junior loaded the people from the nearby villages in the van and left.  Charlie stretched out on the floor to get some sleep before the long arduous journey home.

“I can’t drive,” Junior said, when he returned almost two hours later.  “I’m dead on my feet.”  Roberts, one of the men from the church, took over and we left.  

Away from the city and few lights, the full moon shone almost as day.  Stars seemed close enough to reach out and touch.  This time the bumps, twists, and turns did not keep me awake, but they did for Charlie.  He was sick to his stomach the whole way home, and trying to sleep only made it worse.  

When we finally got home, it was 5:00 a.m.  I crawled into bed, grateful  to be able to stretch out and glad that the ground under me was solid.  I cannot remember the last time that I have been so glad to get to bed.  If I felt that way, I am sure that Charlie felt the relief even more than I.  How grateful I am that God gives us the gift of sleep.

Sunday in Guatemala

I love Sundays.  There is something special about going to church, listening to the teaching and preaching of God’s Word, singing hymns and songs together, and being encouraged by brothers and sisters in Christ.

This Sunday was no different.  It was such a joy to be in a room together with people I’d never met before and yet know that we are brothers and sisters in Christ.  We come from different countries, speak different languages and have different customs, yet our shared love for our God unites us in particular ways.

Here are just a few pictures to give you a feel for our morning in Cerro Alto, Sacatepequez, Guatemala.         

People gathering for church on Sunday morning in Cerro Alto.

Coming to church

Marticruz teaching Sunday School

IPM's president, Kevin Callahan, preaching in the morning service.

Lunch and part of the afternoon at the Avendano's home.

Matt Barfield playing with Avendano's children at their home.

Afternoon service in Socoyo.

Graciela Avendano singing a special music number.

Some of the people who came

Matt Barfield, VP for Field Ministries,
preaching through interpretation

    
    

One mother with her daughter

Travel to Arequipa, Peru, 101

We left Bangor, ME, on February 4 and returned on February 15.  Our trip was fairly uneventful, but the few things serve as lessons learned for the next time we travel there.
1.  If the forecast calls for a lot of rain, do not plan to wash your clothes. It rained every day that we were there.  Without dryers, clothes just do not dry.  Fortunately, we had taken enough that it was not a problem.
2.  Their summer is their rainy season.  While the 60 degree weather was a break from our severe winter cold, the weather would have been more pleasant at another time.  On the morning of this photo, the clearest morning we had, the clouds moved in shortly after lunch.  By afternoon, it was raining.  In the distance, you can see the snow-capped volcano, Chachani.

3.  Peruvian Spanish is easy for a foreigner to understand.  I have been in countries where they slur their words together.  In others, they speak very rapidly.  In still others, they have so much slang that it is hard to follow.  But Peruvian Spanish is clear and relatively free of slang.  While they speak rapidly to each other, when they turn to speak to a foreigner, they usually slow down and speak more precisely.
4. Not all rumbling sounds are earthquakes.  I awoke with a start on Friday night as a flash of light and low crackle reverberated through the room.  In an instant, I was out of bed and halfway to the door, thinking that an earthquake was happening.  As I ran across the room, I realized the house was not shaking, so I stopped.  A few minutes later, the same sound happened, only this time we did not see the flash of light.  This one seemed to awaken the rest of the household.  In the morning we asked our hosts what it was.  Firecrackers.  If people see bands of wandering kids at night who appear to be up to no good, they light off firecrackers as a way of letting them know they have been spotted.  That also awakens the neighbors and they can check as well.
5.  Arequipa has some of the cleanest restrooms in the world.  Having travelled the world, this came as a surprise to us.  Both Charlie and I expected less than clean restrooms.  Yet every restroom was clean.  Some gleamed with recent polishing.  Take your own toilet paper, though.  That is seldom available.
6.  Peru has wonderful cuisine.  We enjoyed such things as Potato Cakes, Stuffed Peppers, Roasted Pork, Rotisserie Chicken, and other wonderful dishes while we were there.  Every dinner had potatoes, and sometimes there was rice as well.
7.  Lima’s airport is one of the best for a the middle-of-the-night layover.  When I saw our schedule included an eight-hour layover in Lima in the middle of the night, I was dreading it.  We arrived a little after midnight and went to see if we could check our bags, but the American Airlines desk did not open until 5:00 a.m.  We wandered, and found a Starbucks open.  After purchasing two mochas, the barista gave us the password to the internet.  For the next two hours, we toured the internet.  Then we browsed in the stores, all of which were open.  When the AA desk opened, we checked our luggage, passed through security, and then enjoyed the international wing until the time of our departure, including catching about an hour of sleep on the chairs there.

If I were a simple tourist, I would certainly want to visit Peru again.  It was a delightful experience for us in that way.  But as itinerant teachers, we want to visit again because the people of Peru are gracious, loving, and wonderful.

Things I Appreciate about IPM

We have just returned from almost a week of meetings in Pennsylvania at the IPM headquarters. During that time, we had two department meetings, two days of symposium, and one meeting of a more personal nature. I came away very glad to be a part of IPM and wanted to share with you some of the reasons why I feel that way.

Partnership: I love the fact that IPM’s middle name is partnership. As I have come to know some of the national missionaries with whom IPM works around the world, I have been impressed with the quality and godliness of these men and women. I am happy to partner with them and happy too, to work under them. I welcome their leadership and admire what God is doing in and through them.

Prayer: Whenever we gather, there is an emphasis on prayer and the realization that nothing we do will matter unless God works. As we embark on this new adventure, I am so glad to be part of a group that loves to pray.

Optimism: There are always negative things going on in our world, but the atmosphere at IPM is usually optimistic because we serve a powerful God. There is never any doubt that God is still is control and that He is very good.

Camaraderie: I do not feel the division that I feel in some organizations. The office staff, the national missionaries, the US missionaries, the representatives, and the board are all working together. We have our individual roles, but we are all part of the team. I love being part of this team.

Willingness to change: It’s easy to get stuck in a rut and to do things because we’ve always done them a certain way. How thankful I am that IPM is willing to respond when God leads in a new direction.

There are other things, but these are the main ones. So thank you, Lord, for IPM.

Packing for the Exodus

"And the Egyptians were urgent upon the people, that they might send them out of the land in haste; for they said, We be all dead men. And the people took their dough before it was leavened, their kneadingtroughs being bound up in their clothes upon their shoulders." (Ex 12:33-34 AV)

When they departed for the Exodus and their extended sojourn in the desert the people of Israel were in a hurry and had little time or room to pack the material goods of their lives in Egypt. While we have had lots of time, we will have little room for the material things of the next phase of our sojourn. I realize one Subaru Outback wagon load would have been a vast treasure to an Isrealite household, but by the standards of America in the 21^st century it is small indeed.

The process of our packing started with a yard sale. Last summer we sold much of what we felt we would not need. Then, when our home sold in the winter, we sold or disposed of everything we did not have immediate use for or did not want to store. We now have 300 square feet of rented storage space, and that is with the vast majority of our furniture, almost all our tools and many of my "man toys" sold!

Now the truly hard part comes: What do we pack for deputation? For six months we have been thinking of what clothes to pack, what will our display be like, what storage items will we need for brochures and prayer cards. We have a basic policy - any new purchase must be accompanied by giving something away, unless it is a necessary addition to the deputation kit.

The Lord has allowed us the opportunity to do some part time deputation meetings so we will be able to trial run our presentation and display materials. That will be a great blessing. The day will soon come when we will move from our 400 square foot studio apartment into the Subaru. The few items we removed from storage will go back. The clothes we do not need will be added to the storage locker and we will drive off into our desert wandering.

We have the blessing of a fixed goal for our journey, full time ministry with IPM, which in itself will be a series of sojourns although with the luxury of a home base. We also have the blessing of the same God Israel had in the desert. This is the God who provided manna, the God who prevented their shoes or clothes from wearing out. This is the God who protected them from Pharaoh and his army. While I do not expect Him to feed us with manna or prevent our car from running out of gas or our tires from wearing out, I do expect Him to provide for our needs because He is the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God of Moses and Joshua, and through the Exodus journey He demonstrated Himself to be the God that provides.

--posted by Charlie