Who is that woman? She is crouching in the corner of the meeting hall. Her clothes are in tatters and her hair is matted. She has her belongings scattered about her like a shield and she clings to them like a castaway on a raft. You try to make eye contact with her, but she won’t hold it for long. Her pupils dart around the room, looking…. looking but never settling on one person or one situation.
You see someone give her some food and walk away. She eagerly gulps it down. Her hunger seems to resonate from somewhere deep inside her. One meal is not enough to replenish this famine. Years of neglect and malnourishment have made her body famished, but ill equipped to absorb nutrition. She tries anyway and even runs for the scraps dropped to the floor when someone passes by with a plate full of food.
A few people in the large group notice that she is there. Many just stare or turn away, somehow fearing that she is contagious. Some whisper behind their hands. She doesn’t look surprised. She doesn’t even look angry. Suddenly you realize that she seems resigned. This is just the way it is. This is what she deserves.
You try to talk to her and she looks hopeful for a moment…grateful that you sought out her company; grateful that anyone would seek out her company. But, a shadow crosses over her face. She seems torn. Soul hunger seems to emanate from her and yet she holds back. She is clearly afraid. You reassure her. You speak softly; gently coaxing her to open up. She wants to; you can see the longing in her eyes. She longs to be free, yet she suspects that she never can be. Can she trust you?
More than not having a home to sleep in, her soul needs a place to rest. Jesus longs to wrap her in His embrace and bind her wounds. He sees her true beauty and longs to bathe her in the sweet blossom of His love. He longs to comb her matted hair and to clothe her in royal robes. Will you be Jesus to her?.
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