I’ve always liked the story of the woman who washed the feet of Jesus with her tears and dried them with her hair, but it wasn’t until today that I felt the full impact of her story; Luke 7:36-50. She came in, uninvited carrying the weight of her sin and an alabaster jar. Without a word knelt at His feet pouring out her pain. For how could she even begin to speak through her tears, through her brokenness? She had hope, maybe she too only had a sliver like me, but she had hope that this man, this Jesus would still love her, still forgive her despite her life of sin.

Seeing the dirt turn into mud on His feet from her endless tears, she begins to clean them with perhaps the only thing she could think of, the only thing she had, her long, dark hair. She didn’t care that her hair was being caked with dirt and grime from the street. After all, she couldn’t feel anymore dirty, unloveable, or worthless than if she were swimming through the mire. All she cared about was the hope that she had in Him. Hope that she could be washed clean as she washed His feet. She then pours expensive perfume over Him, anointing Him as the Lord of her life.

Read the rest of this entry →