It’s cold. It’s dark. I haven’t seen sunlight in a month. Or moon or starlight for that matter. I can’t tell time except for the one meal that tells me it must be daylight. When Herod comes to ask me questions, I figure it must be night because he has slipped away from Herodias, who hates any nod toward me.
Welcome to the dungeon at Machaerus. Yes, it’s miserable here. But I’ve never appreciated the gift of time as much as I do now. It has...
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