Luke 7:44, 47
44 Then he turned toward the woman and said 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.
47 Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”
this disdain for love has become a sour feeling in the spirit
can you not feel it? do you not hear it?
she gave all of her, even the precious small of her. placing it all on the broadest parts of her
she loved much, but no one ever reciprocated even the smallest bit back to her
the more that was given, the more was appreciated and she gave and gave until she didnt
so much has been taken, that her gift of forgiveness has been locked up and hidden
forbidden from the world, including from herself for that was her whole secret to living
driven into that box of insecurity and mistrust
she loved love, until she didn't....
too many moments where her love was returned just a little
so her love became scarce, and she began to love more of a little.
like the small of a mustard seed, she feels just so little
Even with an over-sized heart, it has become feeble and brittle
she knew of this man from the chatter and talk around the town
she made her way to the place he was about to fellowship, for he was known all around
now the breathlessness has arrested her and her heart is taking a while slow down
she is now feeling a sense of helplessness from the sinful yet selfless actions of her past
how does she approach this guess that is about to cross near her path
this uneasiness has become her reaction to stress.
now the irritability of her restlessness has put on a brand new test
He walks in, I can imagine he is looking and possibly waiting for a traditional greeting
but everyone is questionable about how they are to greet him,
from the thick of the dust from his possibly long journey
then there was her, overwhelmingly emotional and inadvertently un-wordy
faucet running from her eyes, forming a puddle onto his feet
she dropped down, with the tears from her eyes, and some oil she carried, she began
to with the wool of her hair she wiped til it was complete
life has impeached her for so long, and the love that she has been so often searching
that love stood right in her shadow as if they were submerging.
she became the most important example of the evening.
do you think the men in the room were actually listening???
I bet it went way over their heads.
