• Whatever Is Going On

    “War is bad for business unless you are in the business of war”.

    It’s the same playbook as the 2020 “plandemic”. Not that we are guaranteed safety. But the end goal is money. Not destruction.

    Once I realized how much they make off market fluctuations. Once I realized that it benefits them a lot to destroy real estate and then buy it on the cheap. It only scares me to have something they want. Or get in their way.

    Until you have any real power or influence, the best you can do is aim to be as little dependent on what they are selling as possible. And be as quiet about it as possible. Or else they’ll take you out for fear that you’ll wake up the other sheep. 🐑

    And then always ask God for wisdom. Because goodness wins in the ultimate end.

    Just try to find some damn happiness every day in this crazy life. If I can’t control it or do anything about it then it’s above my pay grade and not my problem. Genuinely.

    My work is to take care of myself and anyone I bring into this world or sign up to take care of. That’s it for me right now. That’s all I have control over. Blinders now on for anything else that distracts from that.

    Unless it directly impacts me, I know enough about all the bad stuff. I take away from myself when I give it any of my precious energy. Yep, bad actors exist. Check. Moving on.

    Deal with whatever comes when it comes. If the worst even ever comes.

    And remember sometimes the sheep don’t want to be free. Sometimes they’ll even turn on the ones trying to save them.

    Remember how many millions of people got in line and violently tried to get everyone else in line for the trains during the plandemic.

    Remember how the Israelites wanted to go back to Egypt even after God showed off with miracle after miracle.

    Remember how they wanted no part of meeting with God one-on-one. They didn’t want to be a nation of priests. They desired a king to RULE over them. Even when God wanted them to be free.

    And yet even after all that, I understand. Freedom is great but it is EXTREMELY expensive. I lost literally everything except myself and God.

    To the point that sometimes I wish I hadn’t begged God since I was a kid to help me not be deceived. Sometimes I think fondly back on the simplicity of ignorance.

    I can never go back now, but I understand why people may choose to stay.

    You prioritize being comfortable. Right?

  • When people ask what I gave up.

    This is one in the very long list:

    I don’t think Jesus is coming. To save you like you think He is. 

    I think you need to believe in a rapture. So you don’t have to face the consequences of your decisions. Of your choices. 

    I hope, selfishly, that you’ll live a long, long time with your actions catching up with you. In the spirit of millstones hanging around your neck. Carrying just a bit of the weight you’ve relentlessly piled onto others all these years. You who say you love justice so much.

    I’m not God. I’m not holy.

    This shit. This me running off at the mouth is completely pointless. When it comes to trying to move anyone else. I’ve given up on saving people. 

    This is for me. Who values talking about things. For those with ears to hear.

    You grew up with lots of fairy tales. Where a great rich man saves the damsels in distress. And a big, genius, tough guy saves the rest of the world. Always. Every show, every book, every movie. The entire zeitgeist. And we didn’t even see it. That they sandwiched Jesus right in there.

    You hum songs about lots of fictional characters just like you hum hymns about Jesus. Praying always ad nauseum for someone to save you. From every angle. To swoop in and magically fix all the messes we make.

    Do less privileged societies have this same superhero Saviour narrative? Or do they have community and a spiritual Life based on some completely different story? At least until the missionaries show up. Making ’em twice the sons of hell that they are.

    Religion devoid of real relationship is witchcraft. And professing Christians are some of the worst in that regard.

    Jesus showed off. So we’d believe what He was saying about Himself/God and ourselves. For true healing.

    Not so we could all escape the learning process and be magically delivered from our consequences. 

    And that news doesn’t preach as well on Easter Sunday. That the preacher isn’t going to save you. But come back again next week to learn how you can save yourselves.

    Because there is a literal SHIT TON of work we’ve let fester for thousands of years. Century after century of people sitting in pews trying to invoke incantations. Rather than getting a backbone and getting to work.

    Sorry to break it to you. The worst being this is not at all popular. At least in America.

    The good news: God never let you down because God wasn’t in the business of making sanitized robots. 

    The bad news: Everyone else let you down. And you were raised to fall in line: shut up, not put up a fight, and then teach everyone else to do the same.

    You’re sitting there asking yourself how big players on the world stage, who claim to represent Christ mind you, are allowed to get away with the horrible things making the news.

    The answer: we ALL let it get to that point. Everyone who ever interacted with them. Everyone who ever did business with them. We enabled that horrendous mess. That absolute crime against all of us going around like the worst pandemic. 

    Again, the good news: that means we are strong enough to see it now. To deal with it. To do the work. 

    Bad news: there’s A LOT of work to do.

    You can’t take it all on. There are people closer to the world stage bad actors than you. 

    But you can make changes in who you have contact with. 

    And more importantly, you can focus on cleaning up your own Life first. That’s what I finally figured out. To my GREAT disappointment.

    That I don’t think Jesus is the great janitor coming to whisk you away to heaven somewhere on earth while he erases your messes. 

    I wish, but it hasn’t happened yet. I’ve waited my whole life. Decades. Because that’s all they always told me to do: be still.

    And NOTHING. Things only got worse. Deteriorated. Until I was finally tired enough to get angry and start asking different questions.

    Oh, I still believe in Jesus. But not the Jesus you tried to give all the blame to.

    I now believe in a Jesus who walks with me constantly. To bring me as much healing as I’ll allow. So I can deliver myself. 

    I don’t think anymore that Superman Jesus exists the way you taught me he does. I don’t think Sugar Daddy Jesus is going to swoop in like a pimp and save the day. I don’t think Daddy Warbucks Jesus exists like you’ve been hoping all this time.

    But I even think Jesus lets us believe those lies. When we are too young to know better. So they’ll see us through. Until we’re strong enough to handle the Truth.

    Now that’s genius. Even if it’s confusing to wrap your mind around at first. That Jesus will even use the lies we’ve been taught to comfort us until we’re strong enough.

    Do you want more? That’s what it comes down to. Jesus asking you if you want to be healed? Or not. 

    Either way you are Loved just the same. This isn’t about some fictional Sky Daddy having an ego. 

    This is about REAL Love. That you are a Child of The Most High. That you and your Life actually matter. Not at all in any measure of service to others. But even if you truly did nothing at all.

    This is only about what you want.

    And the fruit will be a direct result of what you choose. Or don’t. As long as it will benefit you in the end. Even if you INSIST on learning the hard way: what not to do first. 

    ZERO condemnation!!!

    Just you deciding how many laps you want to do in the desert before you believe how worthy and valuable you TRULY are to your Creator. 

    AMEN!

  • Goyim

    There is a lot of talk recently about goy and goyim. I’d like to share my thoughts.

    How can a person hurt a child? Well, one of many reasons is if that person devalues the child. Sees the child as “less than”. Sees that child as just a body. Specifically that they will not have to answer to Love as to why they harmed that child. For all their intellectualism, common sense right out the window.

    I primarily blame religion. I think they bastardized the point of the story the original people were given.

    I think the original story was supposed to be: Hey, humans are prone to fear. In that fear they often lose sight of how things truly are. But all is never lost. Yet in respecting the agency of all involved, this healing is going to take a very long time. So Love has chosen, with the consideration of the lack of technology in many centuries, to carry the story of what’s really going on with everyone through a certain people group. It’s not that this people group is better than anyone else. In fact, judgement begins in the house of The Lord. That’s why we shouldn’t so rushed to think we are the best to tell everyone else what to do. But the story of what’s really going on will be worked out in this group publicly first. They are the ones selected to keep the story of what’s really going on and keep passing it down to the next generations. Not because they are in any way inherently better than anyone or everyone else. Just to keep things more simple.

    That’s it.

    But I think fear and pain, manifesting as power grabs, polluted that original message. To the point where we now get weirdos scalping DNA. As if there is some magic in the blood. Which makes zero sense to me from, of all things, a scientific perspective. Isn’t mixed blood the safest from what many would consider diseases caused by genetics that are too similar?

    Not to mention, isn’t adoption a concept that is important to God? Hasn’t this been talked about in all the texts you espouse to consider so sacred?

    Or are you really just about the impotent gods of money, power, and sex?

    Anyway, I digress.

    I think the original story has been understandably corrupted throughout the ages. In times more than others. But today I think there are people who instead of just seeing the point as Love publicly working out the healing in one people group who have been tasked with safe guarding the correct interpretations, now they see it as a few things that aren’t actually going on.

    Number one: that there are different races. I don’t know who started that. Maybe it is also mostly perpetuated over times by those stooping low in trying to gain a false sense of safety through division and separation. Instead of doing what it takes to compete honestly and fairly. And to have the courage to make things right. But either way let me be clear: I think there is only one race – the human race.

    There are different types of outward characteristics of dogs. But a dog is a dog. Just because it is a poodle versus a pit bull doesn’t mean they are different like an elephant is different from a monkey. Again, common sense.

    Same with humans. We are not different species. You can split hairs if you want to, but that’s exactly why you are so lost in the weeds. If you choose to stay there. Sorry to break it to you, but there is no such thing as a “white person” or a “black person”. There are just humans with different characteristics.

    Now, culturally there is an infinite number of variations. And to the uninformed or the willfully ignorant, correlation can be confused for causation. But cultural characteristics are not, in the plain sense, biological.

    And to be sure, the cultural differences are extremely different and divisive. That’s obvious.

    I don’t even have a problem with people wanting to group themselves with others who have the same values and shared experiences. That’s completely understandable. But let’s call it what it is: not biology. Just preferences.

    And you can have certain preferences for certain biological differences. But we’re more alike than we are different.

    I think you’re missing out if your theology demands, in a world Created with limitless variety, that Love prefers us all to end up as literal carbon copies of some austere, sanitized, so-called standard. That might bring you a fantasy you can run to when you feel left out, but it’s just not true.

    I understand. When you are pushed down you need some kind of hope. That things will eventually work out in spite of everything happening now. But it just isn’t true that Real Love prefers one child over another. That’s not the answer. Fundamental laws of truth exist. And that isn’t one.

    Your theology is based on punishment. On good and bad. And in that, you are dying. Through your denying. Specifically of the other.

    My theology is based on judgement, yes. But as defined as setting things right. Healing. Versus annihilation.

    We are STUCK with each other.
    And STUCK with ourselves.

    And God doesn’t do abandonment. In my understanding. Never will.

    So safety through destroying anything, much less children, is not only 100% backwards. But damn, also a long way to go. To get to where we will all eventually be.

    The forty years of wandering in the desert. That’s what those stories are really about. To help us remember we will NOT achieve “Nirvana” in our delusions. You’re kicked out of “Eden” for your protection. So you won’t settle for sick thinking. When there is so much more, so much better. FOR you. Not as an option. But Trinity insists!

    There is a Promised Land waiting for you even NOW to freely experience. But it has NOTHING, literally the exact opposite, to do with leaving people out based on biology. Or even theology.

    There is no superiority in a certain skin color, hair color, or eye color. There is no superiority especially, in any theological sense, in any DNA. To think otherwise is really inbred. How many times do you have to see that play out before we can finally move on and leave anything about that behind? Quit wasting time. Quit wasting your literal life. That can’t be what this human experience is about.

    People travel to get away from themselves. Something that is not at all them. It makes sense. Don’t overthink it.

    I’m disgusted with your behavior, but I’m not scared of your little secret clubs and seances. As if God isn’t well-able to immediately humble you. Goliaths are nothing in the grand scheme of things. Redeemable, sure. But nothing inherent in them to fear.

    I think those identifying as Christians have specifically been lied to. Manipulated. And needlessly intimidated. This is why I see religious leaders abandon the values they at least verbally ascribe to in order to align themselves with those they incorrectly think get some special pass from God.

    The story is so simple: Love enJoys every Created child. Love WILL win. Love only Lives in freedom. And so healing will happen. But damn, do you really want to choose the long and hard way? When you could come around much sooner to accepting your invitation at the table of True celebration?

    We all get to choose. As long as it takes.

    There is no future where a physical war solves anything. Death happens. So does abuse. But none of that is the answer. These things are plain to your soul, your spirit.

    Anger at what has been done to you and others? Absolutely. All day. Every day.

    Protections? Boundaries? Same. 100%. Especially from me. You have my total support in that. As I now say: God tells me “no” all the time.

    But thinking the answer is to casually eat up even the rich is just more of the same mess that got us here in the first place. Unfortunately. It would be so much easier in our minds if that was the answer sometimes, no?

    There is no real goy. No real goyim. Unless you consider those who act as if it is possible to dehumanize any other – much less a child. But even then… scour the house. For the last little chametz.

    For every misunderstanding will be corrected. Not because God cares about theology for the sake of intellectual masturbation. But because you really matter. Your freedom is the point. Whatever the delusion.

    Christian or Jew. Anyone else.

    Romans 11 folks. Written by one who was quite zealous. Addressing this superiority issue.

    Ask Love for the lens to read it correctly. And how to see everything else. Now and in times past.

    I guarantee the message is nothing to be afraid of. Either way.

    Neither DNA. Nor nations. Or any secret clubs.

    All are eventually subject to unending Love. Good news.

    The only thing you’re racing to the front of the line for is your “spanking”. And that’s a threat you can certainly count on whether preacher or priest.

  • Little Dyno-mite

    Changing the world isn’t the answer either.

    How many god-damned years did I waste thinking I could move the needle. Even a hair. Even an inch. It certainly wasn’t worth my whole life. I could have actually enjoyed myself.

    They keep you on the hamster wheel, the endless grind, by selling you this hustle culture, this democratic mind.

    But look at me. There’s not a damn thing I can do. Not a damn move I can make without permission. Without collusion.

    Except try to enjoy myself. Try to find some dark humor in the absurdity of it all.

    You think another figurehead will do better. Maybe a different king, a different politician, a different czar, a different elected official, a different pastor, a different priest, a different Iman, a different leader.

    Corrupted, eventual bought. Eventually compromised. Or best-case scenario taken out before they can do much good. These gods of yours. These actors on the stage. The drama of our lives. Our survival.

    We said, “No, thank You, God. Please give us someone, anyone other than You.”

    Who do you run to now? Sweetcheeks, babycakes.

    When the game stops being fun.
    When things get a little too real.

    When you start to feel.
    A bit too cold for comfort.
    A little more hunger than you’re used to.
    And afraid there’s no one you can truly trust.

    Alone.

    In a sea of suffering. As far as the eyes can see. The ears can see. And then several more millennia. Oceans upon oceans of cries.

    Endless people to rescue with your intellectual prowess. You – who has all the answers. All the strength.

    Exactly how many little children can you save?
    How many can you protect?
    How many can you provide for?
    How many can you meet their needs?

    Even one?

    Even yourself?

    I’ll wait.

    After all, I wasted so much already.
    All I have is time.
    All I have is my face to haunt me.

    To remind me of dream after dream after dream.

    We were really going to do something.
    We thought making a name for ourselves would matter somehow. That it would make us more than just a giant target for the crabs in the bucket.

    Anything but God.
    That’s what their actions say.
    Even if they sing hymns, sing praise & worship twenty-four hours a day.

    Listen to the lyrics.
    God just as fire insurance.
    Until then everything depends on us.

    On me.
    For my castles.
    That require endless upkeep.

    You see glory.
    I see guts.
    I see so much muscle. LABOR.
    I see a bottomless pit of expenses.

    For what?!

    For whose approval?

    What is the actual point?

    It couldn’t be simple.
    Could it?
    Not after ALL our striving.
    It would be too easy if it wasn’t complicated.
    Right?

    We wouldn’t dare just let go.
    Not dare let the following generation off the hook.
    That would be the worse. Such an affront to all we lost. All we could have experienced. All we slaved away for this whole time.

    Just to do an about face.

    We couldn’t dare look at God now.

    Who would ever have the absolute gall to give up?!

    To risk being taken care of.
    To see if there is anything to this Trust.
    If real Faith exists.
    If grace and mercy actually are new. Every morning. And for all mournings.

    Does God really care?
    About me.
    About you.

    I can’t fix shit.
    Especially this shit.
    And I’m done trying.
    I give up.

    I’m going to forgive myself for thinking I could.
    And I’m not killing myself anymore.
    Either I have a heavenly Father for real.
    Or this has been a miserable ass existence for the most part. That I don’t remember signing up for. And apparently took way too seriously.

    Y’all can have the rest of the intensity.
    Y’all can keep all that striving.
    All that crying.
    All that dying.

    Not me anymore.
    I never had it to give in the first place.
    Despite all they said.
    All they convinced me.

    We ain’t drinking no mo’ Kool-Aid over here, folks.

    We gonna scrounge up the best we can to make do. And that’s it. Actually enjoy the rest of the ride. See what there is left to see. Do what there is left to do. And let whatever be. As much as I get to choose.

    I’m either God’s kid or I’m not. Trinity either cares or we’re cooked. That’s it. Either way it’s way above my pay grade.

    This world done kicked the shit outta me. And I finally know my place.

    How’s that for a theology?

    Even all the prayers in the world. Nope. Done with it all.

    There. Have it all. Knock yourself out. Be the martyr they canonize. Your ego boosted so, so high.

    While I go get whatever happiness and enjoyment is left. No matter what. No matter who.

  • Do Not Think

    Just reposting something I wrote for a college course a long time ago.

    I was very surprised to learn that non-practicing people often knew more about religions than the practitioners. Hitler is quoted as saying, “How fortunate for leaders that men do not think.”

    I am unfortunately not surprised by the lack of knowledge people have about their own religions. A Bible verse in Hosea 4 quotes God as saying, “My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge.”

    Isn’t it ironic that we are so ignorant in an age where maybe we have the most access to information in the entire history of humans?

    Maybe the more comfort we attain, the less we seek knowledge and understanding? I think about the stories I’ve heard about persecuted Christians in China who tear pages out of one Bible and distribute a page or two to each person in the community who will then take the page home and copy or memorize it. Then the pages are rotated around the community until they are unusable. Or I think about the people who carry on the Bible Balloons project in order to reach the desperate Christians of North Korea.

    When I read about weird cults reported in the news, as an outsider it seems totally ridiculous that people would participate in them. I think the leaders are experts at exploiting people’s blind spots and weaknesses. The Apostle Paul writes to Timothy, in 2 Timothy 3 as recorded in the Bible, about these wolves in sheep’s clothing: “For of this sort are those who creep into households and make captives of gullible women loaded down with sins, led away by various lusts, always learning and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth.”

    Whatever ideology one ascribes to, whether it be religious/political/etc, it seems that the wise person will dig in to ensure what they believe and why.

  • Lexus Lights

    It was early in the morning. The night was pitch black. I sitting in the taxi in the city waiting for a trip.

    I was watching the digital dispatching screen in the taxi and received notification of an available out-of-town trip. Those trips were rare and not automatically assigned to the closest driver. They were offered up to all of the drivers on duty and you had to electronically bid for them. After a minute or so, the trip would be offered to the closest driver who bid for the trip.

    I was always hopeful those out-of-town trips would be that elusive “golden-ticket” trip to the Mexican border or to Las Vegas. Those trips were the equivalent of winning the lottery in the taxi business. Being an optimist, I was hopeful this night would be my lucky night. I bid for the trip and sat staring at the screen to find out if I had won. I was rewarded when I received notification that I had been assigned the trip.

    On out of town trips, the dispatcher gathers more information than for a regular trip. On long distance trips out of town, they almost always provide you with the destination and the estimated fare that was quoted to the passenger.

    As I started to review the information for this trip, I was a little disappointed as I scrolled through the details. In this case, the dispatched did not provide any destination information. They only indicated that the passenger agreed to a $50 trip charge. Fifty dollars did not equate to Las Vegas, but it was better than nothing. So I started driving to the pickup location.

    The passenger was being picked up on the far south side of San Antonio. Outside what most would consider the city proper. Much farther away than any of the regular business on a typical night.

    That part of town is generally sleepy compared to the rest of San Antonio. Even more so in the early morning after the bars have closed and nobody is stirring for work or school. I was the only vehicle on the road for several miles.

    As I drove, I wondered who the passenger could be, where they could be going, and what their story might be. Why would they need a taxi at three in the morning?

    I was cautious because a trip like this was out of the norm. We rarely received calls from this far out in the country and certainly not at this time of day. I tried to calm my nerves by settling on deciding that they could be an international traveler preparing to leave for the airport very early in the morning.

    As I passed one of the last gas stations and entered the deep country on my way to the customer’s house, I noticed a white vehicle had pulled out of the gas station and seemed to be keeping pace with my speed. The white car was behind me but wasn’t passing me.

    This normally wouldn’t be a big deal except that because I wasn’t familiar with this area, I was slowing down and speeding up repeatedly in an attempt to read the street signs in the dark. I expected that someone who was familiar with the area would have passed me and continued on their way instead of keeping pace with my alternating speeds. When I slowed down, they slowed down. When I sped up, they sped up.

    I also noticed that their headlights were different than most vehicles on the road. I’m not knowledgeable about vehicles so I referred to their headlights as “Lexus lights” because those were the only vehicles I knew of that had those lights. Lexus vehicles were not common this far out in the country. Especially at three in the morning.

    I started to worry that I was being followed. I was wondering if someone had placed a call for a taxi, was following me, and was then going to trap me at the destination location or run me off the road. I was trying to keep calm and think about what to do.

    For a few quick moments, I was distracted by trying to find the street I needed. In the dark. I wasn’t focused on the Lexus as I found the street I needed and made the turn. When I looked behind me again, I noticed that I wasn’t being followed. So I dismissed my initial concerns and proceeded to concentrate on the passenger that I would be encountering in a few seconds.

    As I pulled up in front of the passenger’s house, immediately I noticed there were at least three late-model vans in the driveway and about half a dozen people standing outside. That seemed odd to me. Why would this passenger call for a taxi if they had access to working vehicles? Why would this passenger call for a taxi when there were people available who could give them a ride? My guard went up.

    As I watched the scene of people on the front porch, I noticed nobody was hugging. Usually when loved ones are separating, there is at least the appearance of affection as they hug each other goodbye. My mind was telling me something was wrong.

    Also, no one from the group of people immediately came to the taxi to acknowledge me. Usually there is someone in a group who will greet the driver and will ask the driver to wait while the others come to the vehicle. Nobody immediately acknowledged my presence.

    Finally after several minutes, a middle-aged man carries a suitcase across the sizeable lawn in front of the house and brings it to the vehicle. I get out of the van, open the back door for him, and he puts the suitcase into the trunk.

    He doesn’t say anything to me and walks back to the house. He doesn’t look happy. This catches my attention but I try to give him the benefit of the doubt. I’m not exactly my best self either at three in the morning.

    It was odd to me that there was only one suitcase and so many people on the porch. I would have expected a taxi to be called if an entire family was leaving on a trip but it was odd that so many people were available to drive the passenger and yet they called a taxi.

    After several more minutes, a lady walks to the van and asks me to wait. She doesn’t appear any happier than the man who brought the suitcase to the vehicle. At this point I’ve decided that whatever is happening with this group of people, it is not a pleasant situation.

    Since I needed the money and had already driven so far, I decided to wait for the woman. As I waited, I watched as the people on the porch were talking and walking back and forth in and out of the house. Something was wrong but I couldn’t figure out what was happening.

    All of a sudden, a much older man crosses the land and approached me in the taxi. He opens the passenger door and angrily demands, “Where are you taking her?!”

    I’m a champion for the underdog. I’m a champion for women. I’m already on guard. I think to myself, “The only loyalty I have is to whoever is paying for this trip. It appears that the woman is going to be the passenger. I can’t let this guy push me around.”

    I’m hoping good old-fashioned friendly courtesy will do the trick. I reply calmly, “I don’t know sir. She hasn’t told me.” It was the truth.

    He angrily replies back with more force this time, “You don’t know where you are taking her?!”

    At this point, I’m tired of this whole situation. I thought this was going to be an easy fifty dollars. I don’t have the patience to spend my morning caught in some family drama. I just want to get out of there and go back to town. Plus this taxi is like my house and I certainly can’t give him control of my space.

    So I gather up as much courage as I can fake and raise my voice to match his, “No sir! She hasn’t told me where she is going!”

    He concedes defeat, turns around, and stomps back off towards the house. I felt proud of myself but now I was even more on guard.

    I was concerned for the woman who had asked me to wait. I didn’t know how long I should wait for her. She is obviously at the center of whatever problem is occurring.

    Finally I see her walking towards the van all by herself. This was very abnormal. Most times loved ones will escort a woman to the taxi, make sure the taxi driver isn’t a creep, tell the female to be safe, and then stand outside and watch as the taxi drives off. It was very odd that at three in the morning no one was seeing this woman off. Again, my suspicions were being confirmed that something was wrong.

    Immediately after she enters the taxi and closes the passenger door, she tells me, “Drive! Please! Quickly.”

    Now, I might be a champion for women, but that doesn’t mean I trust them. In my business, a woman might be a match for me physically but was no less of a threat. Commonly women were used to bait drivers into an ambush or used the sympathy of drivers to obtain free rides.

    I might be kind-hearted but this was still a business to me and I still cared about my safety. I couldn’t let her boss me around. I had to regain control of the situation.

    I told her, “Hey, wait a minute! I need to receive payment first and I need to know where you are going!”

    “I’ll pay you. I promise. Just drive! I need to get away from here.”

    “Fine. I’ll drive a few blocks, pull over, and you’re going to pay me before we go any farther!”

    “Ok. Ok. Just drive.”

    I start confirming the $50 fare with her and I relax a little because she doesn’t seem concerned about the price and I can hear her digging in her purse for the money. Usually if someone is up to no good, they will try to bluff you into believing they didn’t know how much the trip was going to cost or that the dispatcher quoted them a difference price, etc.

    I drove a few blocks and pulled over in the dark on the side of the road. She gave me the money and then urgently asked me to continue driving.

    The money helped ease my fear but I needed to know where we were going. It was typical of people who were up to no good to not give you a destination. I asked her again where she was going and she just said, “I’ll let you know. Just turn to the right.” For some reason I let my guard down and decided to drive.

    We turned onto the main road and headed back towards the city so I was not as scared. I figured if she was leading me to an ambush, it would have been deeper into the country versus off a main road headed to the city.

    I was starting to relax but I was not going to let her just drive me around aimlessly. I decided to approach her differently in order to obtain the information I needed. I less aggressively asked her, “What is going on?”

    Surprisingly, she was forthcoming. She started telling me that she had been a student in medical school in Chicago. She was only a semester or two away from graduating when her mother called her from India and advised her that she was being married off to a man in Texas in an arranged marriage. My passenger had never met the man before. She was expected to leave medical school in Chicago and move to Texas and get married. And that’s what she did.

    After she married and arrived in Texas, the new husband and his family put her to work in the gas station that they owned. This was not a corporate gas station. This was one of those little gas station dumps out in the middle of the country. She said they violated all the labor laws and she was stuck at the gas station working long hours. Then when she came back to the family compound, the family treated her like a slave and she was expected to spend her time doing housework. She was about to graduate from medical school and now she was reduced to a slave working for strangers.

    As she is telling me this story, all of a sudden, what do I see in the rear-view mirror!? The same white vehicle with the “Lexus lights” that I saw before! I’m sure it was the same white car that had followed me so many miles on the way to her house.

    Before I even had time to think about what was happening, the Lexus races up next to the side of the van and starts honking and driving erratically. It felt like I was in an action movie. I was scared but incredibly calm. I turned my head towards her as the car is driving erratically alongside me and I ask her, “Do you know these people!?” In my mind, I’m thinking her in-laws have tracked us down and are going to run me off the road and kill us both in some kind of twisted honor killing.

    She calmly responds, “Yes, follow them.” I have no idea how to explain it, but I trusted her. The Lexus speeds up and I switch lanes and follow it.

    Almost immediately, the Lexus pulls off the road and onto a dirt road. I’m thinking, “Great, a dirt road. Of course it’s a dirt road! This is like a bad B movie. Is this how my life is going to end?”

    I ask my passenger, “What’s going on?!”

    She tells me that the people in the Lexus are friends she met and they are helping her escape. For some reason I believed her. I assume that she didn’t want this couple to drive to her former residence for fear that her in-laws would find out who was helping her.

    The Lexus drives over a cattle guard and stops in the middle of the pitch black night. The only lights around are the headlights of our vehicles. A man and a woman step out of the Lexus. The man wastes no time in approaching the taxi, opening the van door, and helping the woman out of the back seat. I somehow decide that I feel safe enough to exit the vehicle and open the trunk so they can retrieve her luggage. The woman from the Lexus comforts my passenger as the man takes the luggage back to his vehicle. He tells me thank you and they all get into the Lexus and drive away quickly.

    I’m left by myself in the middle of some random pasture in the pitch black night. I catch my senses and drive away as quickly as possible to get back to the city. I call my dispatcher and I tell him to please not give out my name or number to anyone who might call from that trip. I was worried her in-laws were going to track me down once they realized their free labor had escaped.

    In the end, I felt honored that God would provide me the opportunity to help a woman escape from bondage. As so many other times before, taxi driving proved to be more than just a job. More than just the money.

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