February 2004. Hot day. Raw sewage. Pigs. Stench.

Going back almost five years, it is still difficult for me to get over the amazement that God was wanting to do something big in an armpit of a place like Ubaúna, Brazil. I did not like the place. Sitting on the porch of my mother-in-law, temperature a balmy 105+, open sewage stinking to high heavens, pigs sunbathing in the muck, that morning is burnt in my memory as though branded with a hot iron.

“Do something!”

Not one to be given to carrying on conversations with the Almighty, much less hearing from him in such a direct manner, his “counsel” was upsetting… to put it mildly.

So, what does one do when God comes knocking?

Not being an expert in these matters, all I could do was listen…