Upon the tree, For You, For me, He died. That we might live. This is the Foundation of my Faith. That Christ died for me. To reconcile me (back) to God. Praise the Lord! He succeeded with me.
Hallelujah, We are free. Free, completely free, free indeed. No chains holding us, not bound to sin or fear or shame. Not scared of death. We live free! Unburdened, unashamed, full of life, full of hope!
Thank You, Jesus! We have His life in us, we arose with Him.
Matthew 28:6 “He is not here: for he has risen…”
Here is a short story that relays second chance and I hope you can relate to it and much more understand the depth of LOVE the father has for you.
My life is just about to end. Cut short by tradition. A tradition that the same men who instituted helped me break. I am called a prostitute. A lady of the night. My customers are men. Who comes under the cover of night to pay me for sex. And in broad daylight establish traditions condemning my trade.
Today I am caught in the act “She committed adultery”, they chanted and dragged me into the streets. They let my “co-adulterer” off and decided to punish me instead. For a crime committed by two, I had to take the fall.
They pulled my hair, tore my dress. I am bruised, I am sore, my hair mangled in sweat and blood. Sand in my mouth, nose, my hair and all over my body. From the strands of hair covering my face and through eyes that sting from sweat and sand, I manage to see mothers turn the eyes of their children away. Hot-flaming hatred in the eyes of my co-women. Malice as their imagination runs wild with details of what I might have done with their husbands and sons.
Nobody showed me mercy. Not even my neighbors and friends. I know the tradition so well. I was born in it. The consequences of my action is death by stoning. The time has come. I’m about to pay for my sins.
Among those dragging me are a few faces I recognize, “Oh God, these men once told me I was the best in my trade”. Now I see indignation and rage and hatred. This hurts more. By this time, the whole town had gathered. Armed with stones and clubs and shoes. They made an open show of me.
My feminity crushed like rose petals. My life is about to stop. They dragged and dragged me. To where? I don’t know.
Suddenly in the middle of all the noise and chaos and curses and rantings and chants, there was silence, dead silence.
“She is caught in adultery sir and you know the tradition, the consequences are grave sir, she must be stoned to death sir”. Then silence again.
I thought to myself “who are they talking to? Who are they reporting me to again? Haven’t they ridiculed me enough? Haven’t they dehumanized and debased me enough?”
The man whose voice I heard reporting me actually groped at my breasts on our way here. He cupped a fill and I was helpless. Now he reports me? To who? Oh God…..sob sob sob.
This is beyond tears. I just want to die. Let them just kill me. Death is more Honourable at this point. From the floor and through tear-filled eyes I managed to look up. A man stooped right in front of me. His eyes caught mine momentarily. My body quaked. I am used to ‘quakes’; the signature of my trade. But this is different, from His eyes, I saw mercy and quickly connected with it. I saw compassion and I needed it right then.
And with a voice that touched my very broken heart and being, I heard these words;
“Let him who has never sinned throw the first stone at her”
I cringed in pain, again waiting for the volley of stones. Then silence again. I opened my eyes, wiped my forehead with the back of my heavily bruised palm. He was still stooped writing on the sand for the first time I turned around.
Thud! Thud!! Thud!!! Stones, sticks, begin to drop. One by one. They began to leave. My accusers are leaving. Stones dropping. Clubs, shoes, sticks dropping. They are leaving. Soon enough. I am left alone with this stranger.
“Woman where are your accusers?” He asked again,
I looked, No one. They had all gone. All of them had gone. I couldn’t find my voice.
“I… I.. my name… I … adultery. ..I …I… sir… who..”
I had long lost my ability to string words together, “I am also not condemning you, so go and sin no more”
And with that, he walked away. I stood, fell, tried to stand again but my strength could barely carry my frail and tired frame. Then I began to gain little motion on wobbly feet and turned back to see if perhaps he had changed His mind but he was gone.
“Oh, I have been given a second chance”
Then I ran. I ran as fast as I could. Far away from my accusers, from the floor where they had pushed me. I ran into a new life and began to live again. I nursed my wound and my life. I am an undeserving beneficiary of forgiveness, mercy and love only He can give. I lived my life on the foundation of freedom only He can give.
I am free from accusation and the shackles that held me so tight. I have been forgiven much. So I understand so much more. That second chances don’t come too often.
Happy Easter Celebration😁