She lived amidst the whispers,
each day adding a new blot to
pages of her dirty life.
Till He came—
to make dirt clean and
purify the stain she wore.
She heard, and faith
propelled her
to the house of Simon.

Simon invited Jesus in,
gave Him a seat upon which
to recline.
Simon, master of his own home,
and observed.
Jesus—guest in his house,
never his heart.

She came, uninvited.
save for the title, ‘sinful’.
Jesus knew her;
Her faith knew Him.
She brought gifts,
“a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart”1
and an alabaster jar.
She asked without words,
begged in silent tears.

Gestures of love.
Lips parted to kiss
the feet of He
who would stumble,
for her—
on way to a Cross.
He cancelled a debt she
could never hope to pay...
“For you have delivered me from death
and my feet from stumbling”2

She shamed Simon.
Her faith exposed his doubt.
A broken jar... A hard heart
Fumes for burial ... Testing thoughts:
‘if this man were a prophet,
he would know’.
He knew.
Neglect versus worship:
Simon lost.

I fear I am like him, like
Simon, man of the house.
Everyday I invite you in, Lord,
but what then?
Do I serve you, Lord?
Do I humble myself...
Do I caress you with tears and love
do I sit, master of my heart,
And watch?

I fail to do
my duty...
to welcome you in.
I seek to please
others, yet
forget the Guest of Honour.
She let down her hair for you.
She knelt at your feet.
Deaf to slander, risking all
for the One she loved...

Simon! “Do you see this woman?”
Her heart is not like yours—
Hers is humbled.
She claims the dirt of the road;
Jesus claims the sin of her walk.
Her all is on the alter—
she doesn't care who scoffs!

Why did you ask him, Simon?
You were not ready to let Him in.
Would I give up all for you, Lord?
Among accusers, could I see Only You?

You gave her peace,
a new life
“...that I may walk before God in the light of life”2.
Lord, let it be so for me.
To seek you even where I am
not wanted.
Numb to piercing eyes
and telling tongues.
Like her, let nothing stop my display.
Let me be consumed with serving you.

Do not let me sit
and grow cold.
To think my thoughts and
watch the world as I paint it.
To be another Simon,
who let you in
and sat idly by.
Seeking little, loving little,
needing much.

For let me be forgiven much, Lord.

(Luke 7:36–50)

1 Psalm 51:17 [back]

2 Psalm 56:13 [back]

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Wow - absolutely brilliant; moving, passionate, wonderful. 

What a talent!  More like this pleae…

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