She broke the alabaster flask. & with it, her identity shattered to pieces.
I can only imagine how hard she cried.
Enough tears to wash His feet.
Her long hair, now caked with mud & pretty face, now red with tears—
she gave up her desire to be the awe of man.
She was in awe of the Lord; so, she washed His feet.
& He washed her heart.
I can’t count the times I’ve held a “street”-girl, opened my eyes from a prayer & looked down to see the sidewalk, dotted with tears.
If I could catch her tears…
They know life is not supposed to be this way, but they can’t fathom grace to change or that forgiveness is for them. They think mercy was forever lost on the first early morning they took the money from the hotel bedside table & walked home alone.
If I could catch her tears, I’d put them in an alabaster flask. I’d tell her to take it to Jesus.
To be in awe of Him. To wash His feet. To break the flask of tears that He’s already counted.
& she will be “forgiven—for she loved much.”
Then I’ll show her my muddy hair & wet cheeks, my broken flask—we’re not that different.
Her & I,
& you:
all big sinners, shattered on the floor,
in need of a big Savior who,
with tear-soaked feet & scarred hands, stoops down to say,
“Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
Luke 7

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: