By Mario Cordoba
I never, ever could have imagined that after driving hours and hours up and down mountains on dusty, narrow roads full of rocks and holes we would arrive to a little piece of paradise. A small congregation meets in San Agustin next to a beautiful river of crystal-clear water. Upriver grow bananas, mangos and mamey trees. The people were waiting for us. They had walked for hours to hear the word of God, yet many were not Christians.




