Susan LaffertyWe dodge auto rickshaws and taxis and goats, crossing a main road. Ten years ago in India.
Our guide asks if we can go to the red light district and pray. Saying, “Be ready. The spiritual battle is intense.”
We step around the corner, into a lane. And I see them. Women in front of narrow doorways on a broken street. Some just sitting. Staring.
Others take care of daily tasks—cooking rice, washing clothes, feeding children.
Ordinary things.
The question lingers through the centuries. Around the world. In religious gatherings. And institutions of learning. City streets. Local hangouts.
And I read it in the Scriptures. The unnamed someone asks Jesus. “Lord, are only a few people going to be saved?” (Luke 13:23)
Only a few? We hear the concern in our day. Are you saying not everyone goes to heaven? Isn’t that narrow-minded? How can a God of love do that?
“Momma. Momma.” I woke from a deep sleep. In the middle of the night.
Jenna, 6 or 7 years old at the time, was standing next to the bed. Pressing my arm.
Yes?
“I heard a voice. Like this…” her voice changed from sweet innocence to a guttural growl. “‘Jenna, I’m going to get you.’ And there were two red eyes. And he laughed like this…” It was an evil laugh.
I sat up straight in bed. On high alert. Heart pounding. Wide awake.
