What sort of woman

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Here’s a better reflection than I’ll ever write on today’s reading.

Love,
Me.

In other news, this is the line that I ponder: “When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this he said to himself,
‘If this man were a prophet,
he would know who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him,
that she is a sinner’.”

“What sort of woman this is.”

The question I have is: Wellll, what sort of a woman was she?

Minds are jumping to prostitution right and left because the culture thrives off of an illusion of sexuality, doesn’t it? Sex, sex, sex. There, I wrote the words. Now I’ll probs have the most hits ever. Sorry to disappoint, internet, but the post is actualmente about JESUS.

“He would know what sort of a woman this is…”

Because we can be quick to assign labels.

Maybe she was too sexy.

But maybe her house was a mess.
Maybe she overate.
Maybe she stuttered.
Maybe she said all of the things on her mind, even when they were inappropriate.
Maybe this and this and this and all the things and voices that criticize us in our minds, telling us we’re so far from acceptable, reminding us of ALL. THE. FAILURES.

Somehow, she was “off.” She was wrong.

But Jesus completely reverses the shame. He verbally honors her in front of everyone.

“Look at all she is doing for me,” He instructs.

And then He sends her forth in peace.

Dang.

Here’s a man who sees past all of the faults and offers freedom.

But not just to her, to everyone. Can you imagine watching that exchange and then, suddenly realizing how safe Christ is? Jesus knew the things…he knew all the things. He could pinpoint her faults better than anyone, but He offered hope and she took it.

Story of my life.

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