Read the full story: Christianity Today
The water of the soaking pool I’d chosen at the Olympus Spa was pretty perfect: 104 degrees and gently bubbling with hot tub jets. It was delightful, but I was exhausted, jet-lagged from a redeye flight, and in the heat of battle between two powerful instincts. One was to people-watch, as I would at any other pool or beach, leisurely taking in the scene. The other was to carefully, constantly avert my eyes—to study the tile floor and the potted plants and absolutely nothing else—because everyone around me was nude.