She was terrified. Dust caked her mouth, and the tears that made trails through the dirt on her face couldn’t flow fast enough to keep the painful grit out of her eyes. Her knees bled from being dragged through the rough streets as she desperately clung to the torn sheet barely covering her body. She frantically looked for escape, but in every direction there was only the impenetrable wall of hate. She could feel their malice building, their hunger for her blood, the dam holding back their pent-up-savagery about to break upon her.
She knew she deserved to die. She was taught from childhood that what she had been caught doing was punishable by death, and she loathed who she had become. She remembered how her uncle had taken her innocence when she was only a child and then had told her how wicked and filthy she was. He called her vile names, and those insults replayed in her mind in a nonstop cacophony of self-loathing. Some part of her longed for escape; perhaps death would finally free her from the years of guilt, shame, insecurity, fear of rejection, an chronic loneliness – yes, loneliness. Though she had been with more men than anyone knew, she always felt alone, unloved, worthless. Life was hard; perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps this was God’s will for someone like her, someone who wasn’t pure. Perhaps death is what she deserved. Let it come. Why fight it? She sank down in the dirt waiting for the stones to find her.
But the stones never came. One moment the vulgar taunts of the murderous mob were all she could hear, and the next – silence. Daring to open her eyes, she saw a pair of sandaled feet. Fearfully looking up, she thought she must be dreaming as she saw the kindest face she had ever seen, and he smiled at her.
How could he smile? But he was smiling, and in his smile she saw peace, compassion, and real concern for her. And then she noticed his eyes. They were intense, and she knew instantly that he saw her – not the nearly naked body the mob looked upon nor the frightened girl groveling in guilt and shame. No! he saw her! He saw the little girl, the bruised, battered, betrayed, exploited, misunderstood, and vilified little girl hiding behind years of bad choices, broken promises, and self-hatred. He saw the little girl inside longing to be loved, desperate to be whole – he saw her!
She held her breath as he asked her where her accusers were. With a voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to shatter the fragile moment, she told him they had gone. And then the unbelievable happened and her world shook, her distorted self-image shattered, her understanding of reality changed. His voice was so compassionate, so tender, like the gentlest music, and she heard him say, “Neither do I condemn you.” How? How could he not? He knew what she was, and what the law said, what the teachers said, and what the priests said. Everyone agreed she deserved to be condemned. But not this man! He said no, I don’t condemn you! I love you and want you to be whole – go now and live a better life, live in harmony with God’s design for life and relationships!
The years of pent-up shame burst, and tears began to spill down her checks – not the terrified tears of guilt and fear she had shed just moments before, but tears of joy and relief, tears of love and thanksgiving. She was loved despite previous actions, loved not for what she has done but loved for who she was – a child of God!
There is power in love- power to change people, power to heal broken hearts, power to transform lives. God is love, and it is his plan to pour his love into our hearts to heal, transform, and rebuild each of us back into his original design for humankind (Romans 5.5).
— “The God-Shaped Heart How correctly understanding God’s love transforms us” by Timothy R. Jennings M.D – pages 13 – 15
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