I don’t remember the name of the camp, but I’ll never forget the night we spent there—both for the misery we shared as well as the lesson about preaching I learned.

First, the misery. Think about a drafty camp dorm with creaky wooden bunks, well-worn mattresses, and no sheets. No blankets, either. Or pillows. But there were curtains hanging at the windows, which we used to dry off after we showered, because there were no towels.

The camp manager had somehow forgotten to tell Mike Baker to bring those necessities with us. So we went to bed wrapped in skimpy curtains in a vain attempt to stay warm overnight.

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