I want to be like that prostitute.

How many of us tell our daughters to look up to prostitutes as role models?

Maybe we should.

Remember when I was talking about crying in language class and wanting to be like that sinful woman at Jesus' feet? Remember how I was all like, "Oh, Jesus loves me no matter what. I don't have to be perfect because Jesus loves to clean up little messes. He loves to have pity on little ole me, so I should be all broken and stuff so he can comfort me." Remember when I was talking about that?

Well...

I cried again in class.

But not because I was all broken at Jesus' feet and wanted him to comfort me. 

I did not wipe Jesus' feet with my tears. I cried because I was frustrated at not being perfect- not because I was broken and humble in heart. Pride flowed out of my eyes.

I hate being weak and I hate hate hate being wrong.

So to avoid those things which I hate (being weak and wrong) I live my life in oblivion trying to convince myself that I am the perfect specimen of a Jesus-follower. I tell you guys all the good stuff about myself on my blog, but um, I would never ever tell you if I was like, super grouchy the entire day yesterday, or if I didn't pray at the prayer meeting this morning, or if I cheated on my fast. 

Ok, fine. Want me to tell you the truth?

I did all of those things. 

And I felt really guilty after all three of those incidents. I didn't feel guilty because I thought that Jesus was going to love me less, but because I feared what everyone else would think about me when my imperfections were exposed.  

And that's exactly why I want to be like that "sinful woman." I want to be like her because, well, nobody expected her to be perfect.

She was free to anoint Jesus' feet in front of all the really cool pastors because it didn't matter if it was the right or wrong thing to do. She didn't care if she was about to get kicked out of the party. She didn't care that people were going to misunderstand her when she was trying to share the gospel with that guy that turned out to be a creeper. She didn't care because she knew that Jesus didn't care. Jesus knew her heart. 

She knew that Jesus had a double-wink-secret-handshake kind of love for her and that was enough. She didn't need her friends to see her fasting and giving 10% of her paycheck to Jesus. She understood that He understood. He approved. He was proud of her actions. 

That's why the flicker of her friends' (and enemies') approval did not even catch her eye compared to the fire of God's love for her. In the light of that fire, she was free to worship and free to love her Savior. Who wants to dance in the light of a match when you can dance in the light of a forrest fire? 

*******

So, I am going to start telling girls to look up to this prostitute. Because she gets it. She gets how God's love works. 


And She has taught me like twelve other things about life and love, but those lessons all deserve their own posts.