The Sierra Madre mountains rise in majestic rows and height of stone. The Copper Canyon cut deep into the earth with lines only the Creator could have designed. Rushing rivers shine in the sun and then hide in shadow. Jagged cliffs stand like watchmen on the edges of the sky. Between them lie fields of grass and wildflowers that bend and lift and bend again in the wind. It is grand beauty, the kind that makes you stop, breathe deep, and whisper a prayer of thanks. I thought of the phrase “enjoying God” as I stood and admired the vast expanse in northern Mexico.
Across the Copper Canyon from where I stood, I could see life on the slopes. Adobe homes with tin roofs stood close to the ground, some blending with the color of the earth itself. Smoke curled from cooking fires. Men hoed small gardens. Women washed clothes in bright basins on a large flat rock. Children herded goats and laughed. The Tarahumara women wore strong colors—blue, red, yellow—modest dresses that moved like little flags of joy on the hillside. Such beauty. Mountain and people. Stone and color. Hard lines and young faces.
However, on this trip I also heard a different side. It came in a talk with one of the missionaries. He said that when he first came, he saw the same beauty I did. The views took his breath away. Now, after living here and loving the people, he still sees the beauty—but he sees something else as well.
He told me he has begun to view the towering rock cliffs as a kind of fortress that we must fight through. “It’s as if the enemy has built strongholds,” he said. He went on to say that behind these stone walls there are people that are hurting. There is sin and fear and bondage. The enemy tries to keep us out. I could hear his burden. We must fight for the salvation of the Tarahumara people. For all people and every nation. The brother referred to the war that the Bible tells us about: “We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 6:12)
Behind the majestic canyons, fields of flowers, and bright dresses there is sorrow. There is pain. There are great burdens. Some hearts are numb from old wounds. Some folks drink to forget their past and this adds sorrow upon sorrow. Some carry shame. Some carry anger. Others suffer from abuse and trauma.
So how do we see a breakthrough? The brother also said he believes it will only be through prayer and fasting. Jesus said, “This kind can come out by nothing but prayer and fasting.” (Mark 9:29) Faith is a part of this. Not big words and strategic plans. Rather, a childlike trust that the Father hears. A tenacious trust that keeps on knocking. On this trip we prayed with the team and asked the Lord to keep the vision before us and to open doors. We asked the Lord to “bind the strong man and set captives free.”
Perhaps some days the rock walls feel close and hard, and the air is thin. On those days we must remember that faith can move mountains. (Mark 11:23) Maybe not all at once. Maybe one stone at a time. A stronghold falls when a lie is replaced by truth. A chain breaks when a hidden sin is brought into the light and confessed and forsaken. A door opens when someone prays and keeps praying. Fasting sharpens the edge of our prayer. It is not a way to earn God’s favor. It is a way to say, “Lord, You matter more than food. The Tarahumara matter more than food. We are serious. We are waiting on You.”
Would you pray with us? Pray that the Lord will guard the team, give them joy, and fill them with wisdom. Pray that strongholds will fall. Pray for people who will fear God and not the evil spirits. Pray that the Word of God will be heard in clear words and simple stories, so that hearts can receive it. And if the Lord leads you, set aside a meal to fast and pray for the Tarahumara people. Ask the Father to do what only He can do.
Regardless how tall the mountains rise, how deep the canyons fall, or how fierce the cliffs appear, the love of God is higher and deeper and stronger. Laboring together with Him, we will bring authentic beauty.
— Harold R. Troyer