A Brawl In The Jungle, And I Lost
It was a fight that even Mohammed Ali would have lost. Dirty Hairy, Johnny Cash, and Superman couldn’t have done better, but in the end I failed and got beat bad and the victor was exhaustion. Exhaustion stood over me, beating its chest and then kicked me while I was down, and though it may not have been an actual fight, my body feels like it was in one, but let me start from the beginning.
So much has happened since I last sent out a letter, and though I would love to share all of it with you, I doubt you would like a forty page email, with enough photos to crash your device. So I will try and give you the condensed version, how ever hard that might be for me to cut huge chunks out.
We flew down to the city of Mazatlan along the Sinaloa coast, at 2 AM, there was the first blow from exhaustion. As soon as we stepped out of the plane, the heat and humidity hit us like we owed it money, hard and unapologetic. 90F with close to 85% humidity made every move feel awful, but can I tell you it was a beautiful city.
Though the city was wonderful, and time there felt like an adventure movie, it was the people that made it wonderful, and even more so the church.
Calvary Chapel Maranatha in Mazatlan felt like it was home. The people were the warmest, most welcoming church I have ever been to, and I wish I could share with you all one day there. Unfortunately though, our time with the church was short lived. We did a wonderful VBS (Vacation Bible School) for the local kids, and a soccer tournament every night (keep in mind the heat and humidity) and though very tiring with a none stop schedule, it was rewarding, though the best was yet to come.
With what felt like it was too soon we left Mazatlan, we loaded up our small team into a rented van and took a 8 hour drive into the mountains. The roads were rough, filled with pot holes and even whole chunks of the road missing, and as if that wasn’t hard enough, a storm came rushing in. The rain was coming down so hard, with such persistent violence, that it was difficult to see out the windows, and our guide told us all to pray. Not because she thought we would die (at least I hope not) but because the roads are so bad in the mountains, that the rain could easily wash them away, and so our progress slowed to a crawl.
We reached our destination at almost midnight, the Cora Tribe. Worn and tired, we were told to wait in the van while our leaders spoke to the Tribal leaders, requesting permission for us to spend the night and stay with the tribe. After permission to stay, we settled in for the night, fighting off mosquitos in swarms and beetles that bite.
Our goal was to share the gospel with this tribe, a tribe that was unreached till just recently and had no concept of God or even a heaven after death. On day one we went around the village, inviting as many people to our camp site as possible. We had set up a medical tent with basic medical help, and games and activities for the kids. I have never been one to want kids, or to even know how to interact with them, but I tell you that these kids melted my heart, and truly made me want to be a father.
This remote tribe speaks its own language, with only a few—mostly children—able to speak Spanish. There is no church in the tribe or surrounding area, and because of the language barrier, harsh conditions, and isolation, few have attempted to reach them with the gospel. But there is incredible news! During our visit, two people came to Christ. We shared the gospel with local children and reconnected with several who gave their lives to the Lord during last year’s visit. Most exciting of all, we helped send the first local pastor into the tribe—a member of their own community who came to Christ and now feels called to plant a church among his people.
“Go therefore and make disciples of all Nations”
Matthew 28:19
If this letter has gone on too long, feel free to close it and check out that fun birthday E-Card your aunt sent. But if you're still with me—thank you! I want to start by saying a big thank you for all your prayers.
Our time with the tribe was powerful, though the conditions were rough by American standards. One thing we were warned about: never drink the water. That part was easy to remember. What wasn’t so easy was eating the food lovingly prepared for us. We knew the cooking conditions weren’t sanitary and that the water was used in meal prep, but their hospitality was genuine and heartfelt—so we ate everything they served us with grateful hearts.
This is where I truly felt the power of your prayers. Every team member came down with severe diarrhea or vomiting—except for myself and one other person. And believe me, I ate everything just the same. I know it was only by God’s grace, and through your faithful prayers, that I was protected. Thank you so much.
Next week, I’ll share a full update on what God has done here and what He’s spoken to me during this time. But for now, just know how deeply grateful I am for your continued prayer, support, and financial help. You are as much a part of this ministry as I am—whether you’re here on the ground or supporting from afar. The Lord sees every bit of your love and sacrifice, and I believe He will bless you for it.
With all my heart—thank you, and God bless you
~Bryan Barrow
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Prayer Requests
I would ask you to pray for the team, for our health and cohesion. And that the ministry we are doing here would be fruitful. I would also ask that you pray for the Lord to speak to us here and to guide the students. I know that the Lord has directed me to Japan, but many of the students, though they have the heart to go out, don’t know where the Lord would use them yet.
Our Ministry
This ministry is not just my ministry, it’s our ministry. When you come along side me in prayer, encouragement, or financial support, you reap the rewards of this ministry and store up treasures in heaven. As these are the rewards of the ministry. This is just as much your ministry as mine, as I am the hands and you become the arms when you join with me. So thank you.
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