Fredi and The Giant Pig Leg

To My Most Amiable Readers,

Here's our friend Fredi. Fredi lives up in the Cordillera (Andes Mtns.) and when he comes to Puerto Montt he often ends up at our door. He's a dear man and a good father to his two children. God did a miracle in his life. Once while a team of guys from the States was down here on a missions trip, one of the guys had a dream about a guy hanging himself in a tree. They were scheduled to leave the next day, but discerned together to make a quick trip up to the mountains to see if they could find the man before it was too late. They asked around to see if anyone knew of a man who was very depressed, they mentioned Fredi. His wife had just left him and their two children to be with his best friend. They were told where his house was, but couldn't find it. It was getting late and to catch the ferry back to the main road, they needed to leave immediately. That's when the tire went flat. The guys who needed to catch the plane got out and flagged down a passing bus and made it home, while Mike Hostetter stayed with his van and looked about him; clearly wondering what God was up to. Then he saw a man walking his way. He'd never met him before in his many trips. He called out, "Fredi!"

The man was rather astonished and asked how he knew his name. Mike shared the dream and asked if the man was him. Fredi broke down and told how he was thinking about killing himself and his two children in his immense pain. Instead, he gave his life to the Lord : ).

Fredi and his children continue to grow in the Lord and are full of joy.

So, Fredi knocks on our door last week and we invite him in for cafecito (coffee or tea and bread). We have a nice visit together and in the course of things he asks Dustin if we'd like to buy some meat. Apparently they'd just slaughtered a pig at his sister's house in town. Dustin agrees. About a half an hour later he returns with a heavy-looking dirty tarpauline bag. He swings it up on to the dining room table and pulls out...A PIG LEG! It makes a dull WHUMP! as he sets it directly on the table. As I stand quite amazed (I would LOVE to see video of my face at that moment), he pulls out a little scale that hooks into the thick skin and lifts the leg high, showing me the weight. Whipping out his cell phone he does some quick math, I pass him the money, thank him profusely all the while thinking "There's a pig leg on my table, there's a PIG LEG on my table...."

As Fredi left and I was alone with the pig leg, I had some disjointed thoughts going round my head. Here are a few: 1) I'm going to throw up, 2) DUSTIN! 3) HAHAHAHA! 4) I wonder who I could call to come over here and help me butcher this thing? 5) Ha ha ha ha heeee! 6) I'm finally a true missionary. 7) I'm going to sniff it, if it doesn't smell rotten I'm going to have to give it a chance. 8) Shoot! It doesn't smell!

I admit it. It drove me to prayer. It was a silly prayer, "Lord, please help me to make sense out of this hunk of meat. Help me not make a complete mess of it". But God heard it, and about an hour later I had cut two pork roasts and about six pounds of cubed pork that will be turned into curry dishes. I roasted the bones for Sheba, our black lab. And the enormous slab of thick skin and fat? Well...that went in the trash...I know....I know...could've been some pork rinds there, but I was never a fan of those, and besides, I'd been through enough that day ; ).

I'm actually going to throw in a tidy lesson: God hears. Whether it be our pain of a broken relationship or the fright of a massive pig leg on our table. He hears and He comes and He rescues. Praise be to God!

Your Most Devoted, Sarah