He had a death wish, and she had a jar. He promised life, and she had just barely survived death. While He sat with His followers, she sat at His feet. She broke her jar, pouring her life over THE life.

She had nowhere to turn and no one to whom she could rely. This man had shown her compassion. She had to see Him, had to touch Him, had to worship.

And while His followers laughed, she wept.

When she broke her jar, the fragrance of oil filled the air. The liquid dripped, bathing His feet. Her tears flowed from everything within her. For when she broke her alabaster, she broke every part of herself before Him. She didn’t care who witnessed or what they said. She hadn’t come to worship them; she had come to worshipHim.

Silently using her hair as a towel, she anointed His feet. She would be the last person to honor Him in this way. And all they could do was mock. They accused. They demanded. They questioned. “This woman who is touching Him – she’s a sinner!” they yelled.

But He saw her. He loved her.

He spoke to the twelve, “I entered your house, and you gave Me nothing. She has given Me everything. She has sinned much and been forgiven. This is why she loves much.” He looked into her eyes, “You are forgiven. Your faith has given you life. Go in peace.”

He had a death wish, and she had a jar.

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