Kudos, crafts team.

• Did missionary work as a young adult, but never really submitted himself to the will of God - as he would put it, he was a believer, but not a disciple
• Got caught up with the Sandinistas in the 80's, resulting in something of an "enfermidad espiritual" - perhaps best rendered in English as "growing cold."
• Married Carla, who has apparently always been spiritually inclined, and something of a strong-willed woman.  Call her a good influence.  
• Finished his engineering degree in some sort of Ecology field; perhaps Agricultural Engineering?
• Had the first of what he calls his wake-up calls out on the field one day, when one of the massive tree-cutting saws swung out and caught his leg - normally resulting in total amputation, but he just got a deep cut and a scar; shrugged it off though.
• Had his second when, about 80 feet from his house one December, a taxi smashed into his motorcycle (which was as big as he was, as he was fond of pointing out) and sent him flying through the air.  The impact with the taxi shattered his leg, throwing his tibia 30 cm out of position (which we can only assume means sticking out, unless he meant 30mm, which i doubt from the rest of the story) and completely shattering his patella; the first (public) hospital wouldn't treat him (they didn't like his insurance), so he got transferred to a military hospital; as it had now been ~5 hours since the accident, things were pretty rough.  They decided just to focus on saving his life, and wait until he was stabilized to work on his leg (which, presumably, would have to be amputated).  Anyway, the succeeded in stabilizing him, and set an appointment for several days later to see if anything could be salvaged from his leg.  While he was waiting for that, though, he kept feeling the strangest encouragement, like a voice, saying 'wait for Christmas, i have a gift.'  The night of Christmas, he dreamed that there were hands holding his leg, one around the shin and one around his thigh, and he could hear the sounds of crunching bones, "like a cat chewing on a mouse," as he put it.  He woke in the middle of it, waving his hands in thin air, trying to catch the arms, much to the surprise of Carla.  He then prayed that God would finish whatever He was doing, and fell asleep - apparently the first deep sleep he'd had since the accident.  When they went to the previously scheduled appointment, the x-rays showed the bones completely shattered - no change; which was no surprise to the atheist Sandinista doctor whom he'd told about the dream.  The next day, though, when they opened up his knee to take a look, they were shocked to find every last shattered piece perfectly in place -- yes, broken into many pieces, but somehow all perfectly aligned for healing, as if the surgery had already been completed, and far beyond what they thought they'd be able to do.  Three months later he was back at work and riding his motorcycle again  (brave man!).
• His third wake-up call came when he was riding his motorcycle home late one night, and felt a bump on the road; he looked back and saw nothing, but it bothered him, so he checked in a the police station in the next town to see if there had been any strange reports; it continued weighing on him as he rode home, so he kept checking in, and left his contact information; eventually word came back - and, since his name was now on file, he was accused of hitting an old man - and not just any old man, but the father of one of the police chiefs.  He was summarily thrown in prison.  While he was working on getting all properly depressed for a looooong stay in a Nicaraguan prison, he felt strongly called to tell random people that God still loved them and offered them forgiveness - meaning not innocents, but the rapists and murderers in his hallway.  He was flabbergasted, but found that when he actually obeyed, these men invariably either recommitted their lives to Christ, or believed for the first time - to the point that they nicknamed him 'the Pastor,' and he counted easily 17-20 conversions.  After a while, as his wife worked the legal system from the outside (and the Sandinistas lost their hold on the country) the order came for his release - except he was first transferred to another prison, near Granada.  He never really figured out why; except that the stream of conversions continued there as well.
• So....as he got out of prison he found his priorities had rather reversed - rather than having God as some random belief, he had personally witnessed the tangible miracles which he hadn't previously thought possible in the present day - both in impossible physical healing, and in mass conversions among the people he would have that least likely.  He was now willing to follow God, no matter what that might mean - as he puts it (mentioned above), he had become a disciple instead of a mere believer.  He and Carla decided change was in order, so he quit his job and moved their family from their comfortable urban home to a little shack on a hill in a depressed countryside community.
• As they worked to expand their new house and rebuild their family life, they began to notice the dozens and dozens of children being neglected in the area...and, so he found his ministry.

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