“If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” John 8:3-7
Grasping a pale grey stone in my white curled up fist, I heard Jesus speak the words of John 8:3-7. Words meant to calm made me more angry, more confused at the situation presented to me..and, I threw the stone. Guilt slowly filled my heart, closing in over my throat and I could hardly breathe but I bent over to pick up another stone. As I held this stone I thought about the story, about how Jesus had crouched in the sand near the prostitute and silently drew markings in the ground. I thought how he had looked with compassion, seeing right into her soul: the scorching pain that had kept her fleeing from love. As I turned the stone over in my palm, I drew in deep breaths as tears trickled down my cheeks, slowly hitting the ground beside Jesus and his hands. As he mixed my salty tears in the sand, he twisted his body to look into my eyes and said, "It is finished". Pleading with him to no go, grabbing at his garments, scurrying beside him I shouted, "Take me, I'm the one who threw the stone!" Deep sobs shook my body and I realized that he was gone.
-Lord, Father, Jesus...Please forgive me. I have no strength left to throw this stone in my hand, nor do I want to.
Grasping a pale grey stone in my white curled up fist, I heard Jesus speak the words of John 8:3-7. Words meant to calm made me more angry, more confused at the situation presented to me..and, I threw the stone. Guilt slowly filled my heart, closing in over my throat and I could hardly breathe but I bent over to pick up another stone. As I held this stone I thought about the story, about how Jesus had crouched in the sand near the prostitute and silently drew markings in the ground. I thought how he had looked with compassion, seeing right into her soul: the scorching pain that had kept her fleeing from love. As I turned the stone over in my palm, I drew in deep breaths as tears trickled down my cheeks, slowly hitting the ground beside Jesus and his hands. As he mixed my salty tears in the sand, he twisted his body to look into my eyes and said, "It is finished". Pleading with him to no go, grabbing at his garments, scurrying beside him I shouted, "Take me, I'm the one who threw the stone!" Deep sobs shook my body and I realized that he was gone.
-Lord, Father, Jesus...Please forgive me. I have no strength left to throw this stone in my hand, nor do I want to.
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