Clean, unclean, washed in His blood

“I only do massages,” Angie* told me a few months ago. She told me that she used to work for a “clean” massage parlor. “Do you know what I mean by that?” she asked me. I nodded, slowly. The massage parlor she where she works now isn’t a clean parlor. Angie said many of the…

washed in the waterfall

“I’m so happy,” John* said, smiling and shivering a little from the waterfall’s cold water. Angie* emerged from the water with a smile I won’t easily forget. I’m still recovering from a recurring case of glorious goosebumps. Today, my two dear friends from the red light district followed Jesus in believer’s baptism. We went to…

bag defunct. bugs beware.

Are there any more bags? I asked this of the Thai man who poked his head in through the flaps that release the bags to the conveyor belt. Yes, one more, he said. My bag came out and I turned several different shades of red. The side zipper pocket of my duffel was agape. This…