I felt like I’d been dragged through a carwash of Brillo pads drenched in battery acid. Every part of my body ached, including the skin on my elbow where Tubba, a buddy of mine in fifth grade, said that humans have no feelings. A high fever, swollen throat, and itchy eyes all contributed to my misery.
My trip to Guam wasn’t supposed to be like this. For nine months I had been anticipating the opportunity to speak at camp meeting in this tropical paradise. But when the plane landed, all I wanted was to sleep until the Second Coming.