Nine years later and I’m four nights no sleep, in a room / drugs den with Bong K – smoking crystal that’s been given me by the Bong Thom so the police can arrest me and throw me in prison.
But I don’t know that yet.
I’m still thinking I’m the V.I.P getting free gear from the Big Boss, sharing it, in a spirit of generosity, with a Chinese-Khmer ex-cop gangster-dealer.
Apparently, Bong K, he used to be a cop.
So I’m Mr. Cool.
King of my own castle.
Built on sand.
Or on The Rock?
You are my witness, says The LORD.
My servant whom I have chosen.
That you may know and believe that I am He.
Before me there was no God formed.
No shall there be after me.
I, even I am The LORD.
Besides Me, there is no other Rock.
I’m the Pastor who smokes shit with the sex workers and gangsters I came to reach out to.
He’s a pastor.
Aaron had once said to French Ben.
French Ben smiled.
Cool in it?
I smile inside.
In my heart.
I know Jesus has allowed me to share in their suffering, to suffer with them, to get close to them, to speak truth into their lives. To shine His light in the darkness.
Even smoke the pipe of peace with them.
Just to get close to them.
To love them.
Cool in it?!
It does have a cool factor, in it, I gotta admit.
The Pastor on the pipe.
The missionary on meth.
The Breaking Bad Christian.