Day 10 - Tim

Yesterday morning I had the exquisite satisfaction of smashing to splinters the beds of our former brothel. They are beds of duplicity, betrayal, unutterable defilement, violence, and spiritual oblivion. Beds of child sacrifice. Beds of Hell. I have never handled such filthy and disgusting objects in my life. I was sweating a light rain onto them as I worked - a higher rate of sweat than I've ever experienced. Yet I felt driven, at high energy, like a fanatic. I would have burned all these beds with gasoline in the middle of the street at high noon, and forced everyone in Svay Pak to watch (like the local Germans whom the allies forced to bury the Jewish dead at Dachau), had that been thought wise. So I smashed them instead. As a forester, I think I was unconsciously ashamed that trees had been used to make beds for this purpose.
And then I remembered another tree, 2000 years ago, outside Jerusalem, that had been used for an unimaginable Sacrifice. And things began, once more, to make a little sense.

Pray again tonight that the Lion would protect the little ones of Svay Pak from the predators hunting them.