outcast…
that’s what i am.
no
respectable person
looks
me in the eyes.
in public.
sometimes not even in private.
i’d like
to say that i am okay
with being
alone.
but
i am not.
it’s
a kind of slow
death
pain stretched out for
no visible
reason.
it hurts.
deeply.
completely.
He was coming to town.
everyone
was talking about
Him.
not all good talk.
He’d healed a Gentile
a Roman servant…
is there
hope
for me in this?
perhaps?
maybe not…
another castoff
a widow
supposedly had her dead son
brought
back to life?!?
how
can that be true?
He’s here!
at Simon, the Pharisee’s
BIG house.
i’m going.
will
they let me in?
i don’t care.
i have
nothing.
to.
lose.
as I near
the doorway
i begin to weep.
my life crashes
down
into my deepest places.
is this YHWH’s Man?
i am nothing
to Him.
how could i be?
i cannot
stop my tears.
they’re washing the dirt
from His feet.
He looks
around and sees
me.
and
He smiles.
more tears.
so
many more.
i cannot stop.
i am a fool.
i do NOT care.
my hair
is down
i brush His
feet.
dry.
i break open
the alabaster jar
of perfume…
meant for His head.
it pours over
His feet
He
sees me.
with HIS OWN eyes.
someone…
someone finally
sees.
me.
people
are upset…
i’m used to that
but
someone seeing
me…
what do i do?
the Man
and Simon talk.
i cannot hear
them
over my sobbing.
it
doesn’t matter.
He.
sees.
me.
finally
He speaks words
to me.
“Your sins are forgiven!”
can
this be true?
how?
then…
“Your faith
has
made You whole.”
and…a gentle
“Shalom…”
“God’s Peace be on You!”
really?
faith? me?
no one
has ever accused me
of faith.
is faith
making a public fool
of myself?
i don't know.
this Man
is my only hope.
and
He sees me.
no
contempt.
only
love for a much loved
sister
comes
out of His eyes.
He.
sees.
me.
