There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under the Sun. Ecclesiastes 3:1
Nowhere Else To Go
What happens when you’ve messed up and there is only one man standing between you and your executioners?
Standing there, head held low, too afraid to move, or speak or even breathe. She waited. Listening. With every fibre in her body she was listening. Her muscles were stiff and clenched tight, like a spring she was tightly wound, but not through anticipation, rather through fear.
She had never thought her end would come like this. She had always imagined grand children around her, old age gradually leading her towards a surrendering of life. Not this sudden violence. Not in her prime. Not with this public disgrace and humiliation. Not at the hands of an angry, unforgiving mob. What went wrong? How could she go so very wrong?
She could no longer hear the sound of the village beyond the courtyard walls, even the bird song above her seemed distant. Remote. It was as if she was suspended between that world and hers; there and here. She was still waiting. Still listening, still nothing but the silence.
Where were the men who had brought her here? With murder on their mind, angrily crying for her blood, they had dragged her screaming and begging for mercy though many streets to this point, Was it to be her place of death or simply the place for sentencing? It was here in this glistening courtyard they had flung her carelessly before this man.
He never looked up, her head was hung low, but her eyes were searching everywhere, looking desperately for clues to her fate. He didn’t stare at her or spit at her or curse her. He didn’t do anything, except scratch in the soil. He was different, alright. Not like the others at all. Where were the others?
She couldn’t see them, but was too afraid to move, perhaps they were behind her? Perhaps they were planning a sudden attack, a secretive first blow. They certainly knew all about secrets. They knew how to keep them too. How come she was the only one here?
Still the quiet man wrote in the sand, and the silence poured into her soul. She could stay still no longer, the apprehension, the suspense was too great to bear. Slowly she raised her eyes, more than her head, to look into his face. Was He to be her executioner or judge? He caught her glance “ Where are they- hasn’t anyone condemned you?”
What kind of question was that? A trick question, perhaps? It sounded so innocent – wasn’t it obvious that she was guilty. Couldn’t he see how guilty, worthless and ashamed she felt? Maybe her answer would somehow add to her crimes, they were already sufficient for the death sentence. She could not deny that she was guilty, it seemed like the whole village knew that now. But where were her accusers, how come they hadn’t sentenced her to death?
She drew a breath, the first in what seemed like an eternity. “ No one condemned me ”.
His reply took her whole being by surprise, “Well, I don’t condemn you either, go and live a better life”
Really? Her mind seemed to freeze in surprise on that word. Really? She searched his face with doubt and looked into his eyes with her heart full of disbelief. Really? Yet no matter how hard she looked expecting the worse she saw no lie there, no judgement, there was no sentence of death.
Quickly she spun around and headed for the village, glancing around once more to ensure her accusers were gone. She made her way through the gates and down the village streets. Slowly, slowly she began to hear the sounds around her, while her mind raced. Really? How come? These questions rattled around and around in her mind. She could not take it in. It was so unexpected. Unlike anything she had ever heard before. He had simply said “go and live a better life”. Well, she could do that. She could do better. He had said it and she would do it. She had a fresh start, a new beginning, she would take it and do as he said. She would live a better life. She would use her new beginning - starting now.
This was not like most beginnings where you hope no one knows your past and spend each breath hoping no one will find out who the true you really is. Not that kind of beginning. No. This was different. He knew everything, He knew the worse part of her life, her biggest most humiliating mistake, her every shameful deed. And then, knowing all this, he said “ I don’t condemn you, just go and live a better life”
She had a fresh start, She could look people in the eye and rebuild her life. She didn’t have to hang her head down low anymore, she didn’t have to avoid her accusers anymore. She had a new beginning, she had the chance to build a new life.
So tell me, what happens when you’ve messed up, and everyone is pointing the finger at you? What happens when you can’t see a way out and are full of despair? What happens when you’ve broken your own heart and that of those you love?
When you have all that going on - can talking to someone really make much difference? Well, yes it can, if that person is Jesus.
(This story is based on John 8:2-11)
Annette Hutchinson 2004©
What happens when you’ve messed up and there is only one man standing between you and your executioners?
Standing there, head held low, too afraid to move, or speak or even breathe. She waited. Listening. With every fibre in her body she was listening. Her muscles were stiff and clenched tight, like a spring she was tightly wound, but not through anticipation, rather through fear.
She had never thought her end would come like this. She had always imagined grand children around her, old age gradually leading her towards a surrendering of life. Not this sudden violence. Not in her prime. Not with this public disgrace and humiliation. Not at the hands of an angry, unforgiving mob. What went wrong? How could she go so very wrong?
She could no longer hear the sound of the village beyond the courtyard walls, even the bird song above her seemed distant. Remote. It was as if she was suspended between that world and hers; there and here. She was still waiting. Still listening, still nothing but the silence.
Where were the men who had brought her here? With murder on their mind, angrily crying for her blood, they had dragged her screaming and begging for mercy though many streets to this point, Was it to be her place of death or simply the place for sentencing? It was here in this glistening courtyard they had flung her carelessly before this man.
He never looked up, her head was hung low, but her eyes were searching everywhere, looking desperately for clues to her fate. He didn’t stare at her or spit at her or curse her. He didn’t do anything, except scratch in the soil. He was different, alright. Not like the others at all. Where were the others?
She couldn’t see them, but was too afraid to move, perhaps they were behind her? Perhaps they were planning a sudden attack, a secretive first blow. They certainly knew all about secrets. They knew how to keep them too. How come she was the only one here?
Still the quiet man wrote in the sand, and the silence poured into her soul. She could stay still no longer, the apprehension, the suspense was too great to bear. Slowly she raised her eyes, more than her head, to look into his face. Was He to be her executioner or judge? He caught her glance “ Where are they- hasn’t anyone condemned you?”
What kind of question was that? A trick question, perhaps? It sounded so innocent – wasn’t it obvious that she was guilty. Couldn’t he see how guilty, worthless and ashamed she felt? Maybe her answer would somehow add to her crimes, they were already sufficient for the death sentence. She could not deny that she was guilty, it seemed like the whole village knew that now. But where were her accusers, how come they hadn’t sentenced her to death?
She drew a breath, the first in what seemed like an eternity. “ No one condemned me ”.
His reply took her whole being by surprise, “Well, I don’t condemn you either, go and live a better life”
Really? Her mind seemed to freeze in surprise on that word. Really? She searched his face with doubt and looked into his eyes with her heart full of disbelief. Really? Yet no matter how hard she looked expecting the worse she saw no lie there, no judgement, there was no sentence of death.
Quickly she spun around and headed for the village, glancing around once more to ensure her accusers were gone. She made her way through the gates and down the village streets. Slowly, slowly she began to hear the sounds around her, while her mind raced. Really? How come? These questions rattled around and around in her mind. She could not take it in. It was so unexpected. Unlike anything she had ever heard before. He had simply said “go and live a better life”. Well, she could do that. She could do better. He had said it and she would do it. She had a fresh start, a new beginning, she would take it and do as he said. She would live a better life. She would use her new beginning - starting now.
This was not like most beginnings where you hope no one knows your past and spend each breath hoping no one will find out who the true you really is. Not that kind of beginning. No. This was different. He knew everything, He knew the worse part of her life, her biggest most humiliating mistake, her every shameful deed. And then, knowing all this, he said “ I don’t condemn you, just go and live a better life”
She had a fresh start, She could look people in the eye and rebuild her life. She didn’t have to hang her head down low anymore, she didn’t have to avoid her accusers anymore. She had a new beginning, she had the chance to build a new life.
So tell me, what happens when you’ve messed up, and everyone is pointing the finger at you? What happens when you can’t see a way out and are full of despair? What happens when you’ve broken your own heart and that of those you love?
When you have all that going on - can talking to someone really make much difference? Well, yes it can, if that person is Jesus.
(This story is based on John 8:2-11)
Annette Hutchinson 2004©