Categories
Crossing Cultures Memoir

Names

Specific names. Or initials. Scribbled in ink. Indelible. On lined paper in plastic-bound journals bought at the local bazaar.

Thirty years later I’m reading the pages. Details about our encounters with them. 

Conversations. Situations.

Prayer requests recorded. Hospitalizations. Heartaches. Crises. Losses. Spiritual confusion.

Names scribbled in ink.
Categories
Crossing Cultures Making Disciples Memoir

Sharing hope in the dark

We 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. 

Down the dark lane. Photo by Lakshay, Unsplash photos.