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Karen said she wanted the "chance to serve" because God had been showing her "how selfish and ungrateful" she was. Abby hoped for the opportunity to work with needy children. Noah wanted to "share the gospel and love with others." Stephen sensed a call to become a missionary pilot and wanted exposure to missions.

Kyle hoped it "would change how I view the way I live." Tim wanted "to see the poverty and helplessness in the world." Our sons Ben and Jon, also team members, went because Jon wanted "to bring God glory," and Ben wanted "to be a servant like [Christ] was."

The team went to work with the missionary community serving HCJB World Radio, based in Quito (HCJB stands for "Heralding Christ Jesus' Blessings"). We were to drive east of Quito, to the outskirts of the jungle to work with the missionaries who lived in a town called Shell (named by the oil company; population 5,000). They ran a hospital sponsored by HCJB that served nationals and people from the jungle tribes. The original hospital there had been built in the 1950s by Nate Saint, one of the five missionaries who died in 1956 at the hands of the Auca Indians (today known as the Huaorani; pronounced Wah-dah-nee). Saint and the others had departed from Shell when they took their fateful trip into the jungle to meet the tribe. Saint had secured land in Shell and donated a portion to HCJB for that purpose. All five martyred men worked on the crew that built that first hospital. It had since been converted to the guesthouse where we stayed. The martyrs' black-and-white photos hung in the hallway.

On our first full day, we traveled five hours by bus from Quito to Shell. We went through the "avenue of the volcanoes," some of which were still blowing smoke, and then over the "Shell Road," a stretch the oil company chiseled out of the mountainside decades ago. Many of us hadn't slept the night before, and fatigue was setting in. I tucked my head into a pillow to snatch some sleep. That's when Noah, our worship leader, pulled out his guitar. The kids called out requests and started to sing. I tried to ignore them. I didn't know most of the songs and it annoyed me to be with singing people when I was tired and couldn't sing along. But the girls had perfect pitch and the guys sang boldly. "I'm coming back to the heart of worship;/it's all about You, Lord, it's all about you, Jesus./I'm sorry for the things that I've made it;/it's all about you, Lord, it's all about you."

They sang many songs I didn't know. But by the time they sang "Amazing Grace," I had lifted my head out of the pillow and was singing, too.

The Hospital Vozandes del Oriente was at the center of our activity. Our hosting missionaries, Mark and Marilyn Papierski, had lived in Shell as career missionaries since 1991, and Mark served as its administrator. The hospital was small by U.S. standards, but it had a reputation for offering outstanding care at low cost. The price of seeing a doctor was $1; it was $25 to spend the night and $100 to have a baby. Even so, these sums were an elusive dream for most, so patients often paid their bills with fruit, chickens, or the side of a cow. "We don't turn people away who can't afford to pay," Mark Papierski told us. "But we do ask them to pay what they can, even if it's only a bag of yuca."

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February 5 2001, Vol. 45, No. 2