(Based on the story in Luke 7:36-50 – with some artistic license :-))

She stood in the corner, her eyes never leaving the ground.  She shouldn’t be here.  She was neither religious nor important.  She was just a woman with a past.  That’s all that anyone at this party would ever see her as.

But she HAD to be here.  She had to see the guest of honor.  His name was Jesus.  Some knew Him as a good man, a great teacher.  But she had heard stories of His miracles.  She knew He was more, that He was who said He was.  He was the Son of God.  Her Messiah. She knew it with everything in her.  And He was going to be in this place.  The same place she was in.  It was unthinkable and thrilling.

As she stood alone, away from the crowd of laughter and pompous conversation, she looked down at what she held in her hand.  A bottle of expensive perfume.  A bottle whose cost was worth the sacrifices she had made to get it.  She bought it, not for herself, not for the Simon, the host of this party, but for Jesus.  Of course, she wouldn’t be able to anoint His head with it as custom would have it.  She would leave that to Simon.  No, she wouldn’t be able to look up into the Son of God’s face to cover His head with her perfume.  But she could put it on His feet after Simon’s greeting kiss and the washing of Jesus’ feet by Simon’s house help – the customary and hospitable protocol.

And then it happened. The guest she’d been waiting for had arrived.  She looked up slightly to see His face. That face that went with the name that she had learned to love.  Jesus.  Unassuming, many didn’t even notice His arrival.  He was smiling, glad to see His friends all together in this place.  She waited.  Simon would go to Him, greet Him with a kiss and call His servants to begin Jesus’ foot washing.  But where was Simon?  Was he distracted by his other guests or by the details of the event?  There stood Jesus, the Son of God, with no greeting, no washing.  No one seemed to notice the awkward pause and silence that she felt as she saw her Lord given no honor.

She looked up just far enough to see that He saw her from across the room.  The power of that momentary gaze brought goosebumps to her skin and a lump to her throat.  And she could not resist what she knew she had to do.  Overcome with  adoration and humility, she walked over to where Jesus was standing.  She dropped to her knees, consumed by the knowledge of whose presence she was in.  She tenderly kissed His feet – his dirty, dusty, sweaty, callused feet.  She couldn’t wait for the others to wash these feet.  She’d do it herself if she had some water and a towel.  The thought that the Son of God would allow His feet to be touched by such a sinner, overtook her and the tears began to flow.  Tears that had been buried so deep for so many years.  Tears of regret mixing with tears of joy.

As she kissed His feet those salty tears mixed with the dust.  Eyes swollen, she looked for a nearby rag to wash off the mud that had formed, but there was nothing.  She wiped the hair from her eyes and as it touched her fingers, instinct took over.  She grabbed her long locks and brushed them over Jesus’ tear-stained feet, wiping them clean.  It was then that she remembered her gift.  The perfume that she had saved for this very moment.  Shaking, she opened the container and began to pour its contents onto the feet of her Lord.  The beautiful fragrance began to fill the room, drawing the attention of the others to this scene.

She looked up, face wet and cheeks stained with muddy tears.  A picture of how everyone in that room already saw her – dirty.  Ashamed, she bowed her head and rose to her feet, suddenly aware of how she must appear to these haughty, self-righteous people.  Their disgust was tangible.

And then for the first time, she heard His voice.  She looked up from under her dirty, tangled hair and realized that He was telling Simon a story.  A story about forgiveness and love.  Jesus motioned to and mentioned her after the story.  That those who know that they have been forgiven much, love much.  He compared Simon’s lack of greeting and honor with HER adoration and attention.  He was using her example to shame the “righteous”, “religious” in that room.  Her legs felt weak as she realized that He loved her and what she had done.  He loved the devotion and humility and thankfulness that had just poured so naturally and intensely from her heart.  And she knew for the first time that her past was forgiven.  She was free.

Jesus looked into her grateful, amazed eyes and said simply, “Your sins are forgiven.  Go in peace.”  Forgiveness.  Peace. Two things she had never experienced were given to her that moment.  Regret and shame washed away.  A new life awaiting her right outside that door.

She left the party early and quietly.  No one noticed her departure except one person.  Jesus.  The one who saw beyond her past and into her heart.  The one who gave her hope and a future.  The idea was incomprehensible.  And the most probable reason for the occasional dance in her step as she headed home…