I didn’t want to live in Peru.
I told God I would serve Him anywhere He sent me. But I encouraged Him to send me to a country like England, France, or some other first-world country. A place where I could live comfortably.
So what did God do?
He ordered me to go to Peru. I argued with Him. But to no avail. “Go to Peru,” he insisted. Not to the reasonably civilized city of the capitol of Peru, Lima. But to Iquitos, a city of 350,000 smack dab in the middle of the Peruvian jungle.
I’ve been living in Iquitos since that fateful day in 1998.
One of the first things I did after arriving was to start a house for abandoned children.