"It took everything I had in me to walk into the room.
There were many people coming and going and the people I overheard on the street say that it really is Jesus- that he is the guest of honor. I couldn’t be sure it was true but if the things that I have heard about him are true, I must find a way in the room. I made my way from the street to the room I stayed last night. My things are there and I grabbed my perfume, and I washed at the basin of water as I went on my way. I walk the short distance when I see the gathering starting. One of the keys to crashing a party is just looking like you belong. Many know my reputation but I try my best to look like I belong and even those who know me, just keep silent. The way I’ve been living has taken it’s toll on me. After my husband died unexpectedly- I didn’t know where to turn. He didn’t leave me but enough to live for a year and so I did what I thought I had to do to get by.
I’m not proud of it. If I told you all the things I’ve done- you would probably turn and walk away.
My eyes are already watering as I enter in the front door. I don’t know if today will be different but I’ve never seen this much talk about a man in my lifetime. Maybe he is different. Maybe he is a prophet. Maybe even, this man could be the Messiah?!? I’m in desperate need of hope. For I am out of hope. I see him over in the corner- It has to be him because he looks just like I’ve heard him described. It’s Jesus. Strangely- more people are talking about him than are talking to him as I make my way across the room. I see some of the Pharisees huddled but as I come closer to Jesus, he makes eye contact with me- and what I see in his eyes is different. It’s not lust, it’s not shame, it’s something I haven’t seen since my father died- I don’t know the words, but it almost seems like it’s a bit of pride. This is the man they are speaking of and he is different. His feet are filthy. Did no one think to clean his feet when he came in? His hair is dry- there’s no way anyone anointed his head. I can’t believe this. I made my way behind Jesus as people are questioning him.
It’s very clear that what is being said here is different than anything I’ve ever heard. The way he speaks is incredible. The other people around all just seem angry. It’s like they just want to tear him down. These people are so much smarter than I am but it’s like I can understand exactly what he speaks of and they can’t understand it at all.
I begin to cry a bit.
He keeps speaking as I realize that he is speaking to me in a way that I need so desperately. Running from man to man each night to avoid begging had seemed to be the right thing to do but it’s left me so hollow inside. These words he shares are breathing a new life into me like I’ve never known before. The stories, the parables. It’s like we’re the only two in the room and my heart is breaking. I can’t stand it anymore. I’m ugly crying now. I inch closer and closer. My heart can’t bare to see his feet left this way. He has been neglected- he doesn’t deserve neglect.
It seems like I’ve been in this room for an hour as I’ve had every emotion one could imagine. It’s only been a couple of moments.
I have no water and no basin and no towel but I realize quickly that my tears are flowing so heavily that I can clean them with my tears. I just use my hair to wipe his feet. I’m ready to be changed. I’m ready to give up my life. I’m ready to hand it to him.
I don’t know what inspired me to kneel down and begin to wash his feet. I know the consequences-- I know that a women like me publicly doing a thing like this could ruin his reputation and, well, what little I had left of mine. I don’t care anymore. What I’ve been doing isn’t working.
I take the perfume jar and I break the top off. I don’t want there to even be the smallest chance that I could turn back. This was expensive but I want to show him I’m through with it that I’m ready to not turn back. I have to have something different. So I sat at his feet and I listened to him and I kissed his feet and I cried and I cried. I was so caught in emotion that I didn’t realize there was a commotion going on until I hear Jesus to start talking with Simon. Simon has walked by me and shamed me many times in public- I know the look of the bottom of his nose well as he has lifted his nose to me many times. .
Jesus calls him by name and shares a riddle of sorts with him.
"Two people owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he forgave the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?" Simon replied, "I suppose the one who had the bigger debt forgiven." "You have judged correctly," Jesus said. Then he did the strangest things-- he turned to me and spoke words to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I came into your house. You did not give me any water for my feet, but she wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You did not give me a kiss, but this woman, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. You did not put oil on my head, but she has poured perfume on my feet. Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven--as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little."
His eyes were on me the entire time and I stood ready to do anything to follow him.
Jesus said to me, "Your sins are forgiven."
Me? The woman who makes her living selling sex? Forgiven? I didn’t even know such a thing was possible-- and what did I do? Why me? I don’t deserve that. My tears that had stopped began to roll down again.
There was much discussion in the room after that but all I heard was when Jesus told me:
"Your faith has saved you; go in peace.""
And that is exactly what I did."
The same Amazing Grace that was offered to this worldly women is the same Amazing Grace that MUST be a part of every single one of our stories. We are all broken people. We can choose to be like Simon and his friends who sat smugly nitpicking and chastising Jesus. People who show our id’s that we were "raised in the Church" and internally think things like “atleast I’m not her”.
We can also choose a better option. We can be that women. We too can come broken, full of sin, desperate for change-- and our story too can be a story of redemption.
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now I'm found
Was blind, but now I see
'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed
My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy reigns
Unending love, amazing grace
If you enjoyed reading, please click the share icons found at the top and bottom of the page to share on social media.
If you would like to join our mailing list, please click here.