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TITLE: She wore Shame
By Sharon Singley
03/28/06
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I don't know that any notes are necessary, except that I can identify with this character, as I am sure most of us can.
She walked amongst the shadows as she made her way forward, her head and face covered. The heat was unbearable as the sun’s rays bounced off of the white sand, enveloping her and stealing away her breath.

She could feel their eyes boring holes into her back as she passed by. She knew what they were thinking. ‘How dare she show herself in the middle of the day? Has she no shame?’

She laughed silently. She not only had shame, she was shame. She knew that. She knew very well that walking openly in the city could bring not only taunting and humiliation, it could bring her death.

But she would not let that stop her. After all, wasn’t she dead already?

She first heard the rumors two days before. Some of the women had been talking about a man who brought healing and forgiveness. But who can forgive sins except God Himself? Then they spoke his name – Yeshua.

The Name seared her heart, flowing through her like blood through her veins. Her pulse raced as a strange exhilaration coursed through her body. She played the words that she had heard over and over in her mind –‘he forgives sins!’

She knew He was in town. Someone like Him could not stay hidden. She had wanted to rush right to Him, to see His face, to hear His voice. Yet she was afraid! What if He wouldn’t forgive her? After all, she was not only a woman, she a woman who had buried herself in filth. What if He could see right into her soul and know all that she had done? How could he forgive her then?

But her soul screamed and begged. It needed Him.

She walked to her front door that morning four, maybe five times. Each time her heart pushed her forward, yet each time her fear pulled her back. But in her mind she heard His name. Yeshua.

Taking a deep breath and with deliberation, she threw open the door and ran out to the streets. She was unsure of what she would say when she finally stood in His presence. Would she beg for clemency? Would she make an attempt to explain, to justify herself before Him? Or would she simply crumble at His feet? Would He laugh at her? Or worse, would He ignore her, as so many had?

And now only a door stood between them. He was just on the other side of this piece of wood. Her heart raced, her hands shook, as she took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

There he stood in the midst of a small crowd. There was nothing spectacular about this man, nothing flashy or different, yet she knew it was Him.

Tears sprang forth from the depths of her heart. Tears of anguish, tears of remorse, tears of joy. Every fiber of her being called her forward, to be near the One whom her soul longed for. She fell to her knees, her legs unable to hold her up as she crawled toward Him.

Without thought, without hesitation, she threw herself at His beautiful feet with a longing to touch Him but knowing herself unworthy to do so. She kissed His feet, over and over, bathing them with her tears. She didn’t want to contaminate this Holy One with her unholy tears, so she wiped them off with her hair.

She felt such wholeness at that moment. She could feel Him turning to look down at her, but she could not bring herself to look up into His face, afraid of what she might see.

He spoke to those around, but she paid no attention to the words. Every fear and every sorrow, every shame poured out of her and onto His feet. She could not hear or see anything else.

Then He did the unthinkable. He reached down and gently touched her, a dirty whore. He touched her head and said with a voice that could still the seas, “Daughter, your sins are forgiven. Go, and sin no more.”

It was that simple, it was that complex. Years of sin erased with one touch. She had been resurrected. She had entered the room as a dead soul and walked out alive, baptized in His Name.

Her eyes shone with the light of a thousand stars and her face reflected the Life within. She was no longer clothed in shame. She would now and forever be clothed in His Love.





Copy write © 2006 Sharon Singley
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