In a dark dungeon I stood with a broken heart on centuries-old dry excrement. I was visiting the Cape Coast Castle in Ghana, a transshipping point for African captives in the British Atlantic slave trade. In each dungeon, hundreds of slaves were so tightly packed these desperate humans could only
No one can imagine how a transcendent God could become human. But maybe you can imagine a smaller picture of the incarnation of God, smaller yet very powerful. I speak of a company of nuns who pose as prostitutes and enter brothels to rescue women and girls trapped in sex
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