They call me an immoral woman, a sinner, a woman of the city. Mothers pass me on the street with children in tow, and they look at me with disdain. Perhaps their lover was in my bed last night. Perhaps my clothes smell more of him than theirs do.
The Pharisees see me with rebuke and judgment. Even if I wanted to enter their temple, I couldn't. It's not a place for sinners; it's a place of pride and status, and I have neither. There is only one kind of man who takes me in, and his invitation comes at a price. Money is laid on my table, but the price I must pay is much greater than his coin. For in those nights, I lose another portion of me. I lose another moment of hope. My virginity was lost long ago. My pride has all been stripped away. Hope is all I carry, and even that is all but depleted.
But then, I learn that He is in the Pharisee's house--the Pharisee whose thoughts about me are always said within my hearing. Why did it have to be his house? Why would Jesus go to THIS house?
I strip the last ounce of hope within me as I walk through the door with the only thing I have that is of value; the only thing I have to take away the smell of me--this costly bottle of perfume. And when I see Him, sitting there among some I've known intimately, I suddenly see no one else. The stares and disgust of those around Him cannot equal His eyes of compassion. And all I can do is weep, drop to the floor, and caress His feet. The only place for me in this room is there--at His feet.
It's funny. I don't know if I've ever touched a man's feet before. Men have always come to me for one thing, and it never really involved their feet. I don't know if I've ever even kissed another before, because a kiss says more than a woman of my trade wants to say. No, I have never delivered passion to a man until this moment. I have never had my heart stirred by a man until now. This man draws me to my knees for one reason only--love. Before I acted for money, but today I fall for love. In this moment, I know that I need what no other man can give me: a love that brings forgiveness for all those nights before.
I don't know what tomorrow will hold. I don't know if another man will lie in my bed, or if another wife will come looking for the father of her hungry children. I just know that the moment that's in front of me is calling me to do one thing: it's calling me to bow.
There is perfume, weeping, anointing, and a kiss. There is love, and complete abandon. And what I give away will then be followed by hope and peace; two things I have never held or been held by. Peace will wrap its arms around me tonight, and rock me to sleep.
His eyes lift my shameless body off the floor, and I walk into the street with the smell of a Savior all over me. I am clean. I am blameless. And I am sure that I will take only His aroma back to my room tonight, and I will carry this aroma forever.
