I liked it so much, I kissed many. I never believed in considering future consequences, only the here and now, only in the moment where my body lusted and craved another.

I believed in hedonism.

I was a lover of a sugar-coated world, biting deep enough to reach the salt beneath; left parched and bereft. But when invited to dine with the Divine, I counted up the cost and I conceded that He was worth it all. Because when you see the light, darkness doesn’t stand a chance. When you see the light, you cannot deny its existence.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in the land of the shadow of death, upon them a light has shined.”
Isaiah 9:2

We tend towards hiding our not-so-pure stories, locking them deep into caskets that no one may see or hear. We profess forgiveness like we do breathing, yet shame whispers “tell no one” and we trust its every word. In a community amongst those who testify to the living Word, Who is pure and holy, Who calls us to be as He is, we feel there is no room for our stories of grace. We see the awe in people’s eyes as they intently listen to testimony after testimony, whilst observing how the same story-tellers are not trusted, always on trial. So we sit in silence, hear stories like ours being called a disgrace, bite our tongues as people express the need to marry only a “pure” spouse.

Yet, forgiveness does not beckon silence. And grace does not hide away our past sins. Rather it holds each thorn up to the light and transforms them into pure white lilies, with each petal holding a unique story, not to be forgotten, lest the power of grace be forgotten.

There’s a woman whose story I know well. Or perhaps, it is she that knows mine. A nameless woman, yet not a faceless one, for I have seen her face countless times when I’ve looked in the mirror. The courageous woman on the sixth hour of Wednesday eve.

She can see the Man she came for. She had heard that Christ had come to the house of the Pharisee. It was not too late to turn around, forget it all, save looking foolish, call it a moment of insanity. Yet, despite any doubt, she feels her feet carry her forward. Ardent, panting and perspiring, she makes her way to the large inner chamber of the banquet weaving through all the people. She does not dare look up. She can feel the heat of their burning disproval on the back of her neck. She hears the steady hum of conversation dwindle to hushed tones of disgust and scandal as they recognise her. People are moving a safe distance away from her. She pays them no mind, her eyes locked on this one Man. She had boldly chased after many men, but none like this. The room is silent now as they realise Who she came for. Does she really have the audacity to come before this righteous Man who claims to be God?

She walks forward, with one thing in mind. Sharp inhale. She stops right in front of him. Without lifting her eyes from the ground, she quietly and slowly kneels and lets down her hair. Memories flash before her of all those nights she used her hair as a snare to seduce, remembering all those fingers that ran wild and passionately through them. Her vision blurs as her eyes pour. Thick, heavy droplets of regret fall to His feet. She remembers the words spoken to her, how it was always her eyes that drew them in and held them captive, possessing their own alluring power. The eyes that stained her life with sin, now moistened His feet.

She stammers. With no words to say she does the only thing she could; she washes His feet. She takes her trembling hands, the same vessels that fed the pleasures of men, cups His feet and holds the thick strands of her locks to wipe them. She wonders if she has crossed a line, but He does not stop her or move away. She was accustomed to desiring men, but never desiring their forgiveness.

She takes her lips, lips that eagerly sought and caressed bare flesh, and kisses His feet. The room breaks out in shock; horror and objections ring loud in the room. An exchange of mutterings, naming her immoral, worthless and irreverent. She feels Him staring at her but she feels no fear and no shame. The others see Him staring at her, in a way they haven’t seen Him stare before. His eyes glisten, there is warmth. She knows how it feels to be stared at by a man, a ravaging stare full of fervent desire, but this was not the same. She feels Him look right through her. She is known, for the first time.

She pulls out her alabaster flask, her costly jar of sensual pleasure used to arose her lovers. The memories race, the images flash. She forcefully pushes them away as she breaks the alabaster flask. Her tears mingle with perfume and she continues to wipe with her hair. She kisses and pours; impure lips become holy. The beautiful fragrance rises. He does not speak but she feels His radiating, pure love. She feels something unexplainable she has never known before. Is this acceptance? Is this what it means to belong? She lifts up her head, looks Him in the eye, and she knows; nothing will ever be the same.

Luke 7 has its ending, but I’ve always wondered what happens next. I think of her departure to her normal life after being told that she was forgiven and loved. I think of how she must have replayed that moment over and over again in her head, how she must have wanted to tell everyone, scream and dance because of how light she felt and how her heart must have burst with joy. That cherished moment she shared with Her Saviour will forever be theirs. I also think of the men who must have knocked on her door that night. All those men that kept knocking because they never believed that she could change. I think of years of learnt behaviour that was like second nature and all she saw from her former life when she closed her eyes to pray. I think of her walking back into her bedroom, those four walls that contained all her unchaste amorous nights, and trying to pray. To rise in the place that she fell.

For, redemption is no passive, tidy ideology. Redemption is real and redemption is messy, it is as messy as sweat and a bloody cross. And it is on that same cross that the proclamation was made, “Tetelestai,” confirming the end, it is finished, it is done. No need to walk with head hanging low, shame raised high, but walk joyously in the light. The light that beckons every soul; those who have given in to every single fleshly desire and all those who haven’t. Because the Light does not differentiate, it infiltrates every darkness; and darkness has no measure. It is that same Light that looks upon us with the eyes of compassion and gives us the assurance that,

“There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit.”
Romans 8:1

Our belief in this truth is dependent solely on ourselves and not in other peoples responses to our former life, our own thoughts or the enemies lies. Our remembrance of our sexual sin can be crippling. We may be crippled by the way we once behaved; disregarding the holy in ourselves and in others. We may be crippled by the fear of falling back into old ways, and the fear of being too marred in the eyes of another. The taste of sexual pleasure is not an easy one to forget, and we may fear our longing for that same gratification. We may be haunted by the words spoken once on dark nights, or the daily glances that remind us of the power we possess. It is a life-long battle to fight, whilst holding tight to the truth that there is now no condemnation, and expectantly praying, “According to your good will, O God fill our hearts with your peace. Cleanse us from all blemish, all guile, all hypocrisy, all malice and the remembrance of evil entailing death” (The Liturgy According to St Basil the Great).

And as we pray this, may we approach the Eucharist, His own flesh and blood, just as the woman approached Him, offering every piece of herself at His feet, broken like the alabaster jar. She recognised Him not as an ordinary man but as her Saviour, yet we often approach Him as mere bread and wine, blind to the Majesty that pours Himself out before us. Let us walk repentantly, with fear and trembling, towards the Holy One and partake of the exchange of life that He offers, no matter what sin we laid with the night before, knowing that His love grants us the audacity to approach Him with confidence and being rooted in His Life, the mystical power to flee all other lovers.

So I will not be afraid to speak of my past sin, the desire of sin on skin, the Edenic memory of Adam and Eve’s freedom in expression and pleasure corrupted and abused. Because, this I know, forgiveness and freedom is mine, and though I am a woman of unclean lips, as my lips touch His feet, there is redemption’s tale to tell.

Let the fragrance rise.

Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a live coal which he had taken with the tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth with it, and said:
“Behold, this has touched your lips; Your iniquity is taken away, And your sin purged.”
Isaiah 6:6-7

This body
My body
A swift sword
A time bomb
Ticking
Cutting

This soft skin that curves around me
That frames and encompasses me
I have seen its unsurpassed powers
I have tasted its intoxication
Eyes wide open
To its irresistible magic

Hard to forget
Its delicious sweet nectar
Dripping subtle, potent poison
This body
Is not a body
But a weapon

Of charm and deceit
Of self seeking ambition
I waste in admiration and affirmation
I glory in attention and adoration
I am a queen
Fluent in Sensuality’s language

The power euphoric
The formula, tried and tested
A gaze and a flutter of the eyes
The control to summon and cast away
The siren song that calls your name
To shipwreck on the stones

And I howl
“Come, I will take away your pain”
To those that pant for it gladly
Like a dark mist
Leaving corpses rotten and defiled
Asphyxiating all breath, all life

So I numbed all feeling
Revelled in my conquer and rule
Sank my feet in my reckless storm
This body
Is just a body
Empty, hollow and cold

The more it consumes
The more it seeks to devour
This body is flames
A trail of dust in its wake
Nothing it touches will escape
Nothing is left standing

Least of all myself
This body is foreign
I do not want it
So I hide and cover it
Who can free me
From this body of death?

A stranger in this body of death
Dismembered from my lifeless soul
I feel my body’s betrayal
Under a man’s unrelenting gaze
I feel the poison flood my veins again
When their heads turn

I am reminded of the queen I could be
The thrill of control
I feel the rumbling and the stirring
Threatening to take over
Seduction is awakening
She is hungry from her slumber

But I will deprive her
Lay her down in silent, painful death
Bind her in burial cloths and dig a grave
Roll a boulder in front of the entrance
Scream TETELESTAI
For indeed, it is finished

Because I am not poison, I am not sword
And I wait on a promise like a thread
Keeping me from fraying at the edges
Of the God who calls out to dry bones
Giving life to sinew after sinew
The God who never fails those who wait

The God who wore humanity’s chains
To shatter our every chain
The God who rolls heavy stones away from tombs
And raises from the dead
The God who puts heavy stones down out of your hand
And says, “Live loved”

In truth, I believe that in Him
All the old has passed away
In the Spirt
I am finally liberated
The Veil torn
My face unveiled

He steps into my tomb
And when I look Him in the eyes
I see myself
He tells me who I am
Not thorn but Lily
He tells me Rise and live

I believe, help my unbelief.

Co-written with Sandra.

“He [Jesus] went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to him. Unrolling it, he found the place where it is written:

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Then he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him. He began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

Luke 4:16-21

This was Jesus’ response to my wounds, and I needed those exact words. Just picture yourself in that synagogue, sitting right opposite Jesus as He unrolls the scroll and proclaims those words. As He tells you so bluntly and powerfully that He is anointed and that He’s here to proclaim good news to you. Visualize your spiritual poverty now, visualize the state of your Spirit’s health. He’s here to proclaim good news to the poor. That’s you.

Imagine being on the second bench from the back in that synagogue, overwhelmed by work, studies, money, life. Feeling imprisoned and constricted, struggling to breathe from the pressure and anxiety you feel. And now in this very moment, of complete hopelessness, Jesus, the Prince of Heaven, looks directly at you as He holds the scroll of Isaiah and proclaims “I’m here to free the prisoners”. Just His stare, or his voice alone as He speaks these words, shatters the shackles tying you down into fragments. He’s here to proclaim freedom for the prisoners. That’s you.

As you sit in this synagogue full of shame, surrounded by your righteous Jewish brothers and sisters who, in your eyes, keep the law to the word, you begin to feel the weight of sin. And yet again Jesus steals your attention as He reads the next line of the passage and says that He’s here to recover the sight of the blind. You know He’s talking about you. You know you’re the one blinded by the heavy cloud of sin surrounding you. And you know you need recovery of your sight. He’s here to give recovery of sight for the blind. That’s you.

Your eyes start tearing up, tears of joy, tears of peace and comfort, tears of acceptance, of freedom. As you look into His eyes, you can’t help but smile. You can’t wait to hear what other promises He’s about to bestow upon you today. He sees you and with the biggest smile He reads “to set the oppressed free” then looks directly at you. All the oppression of Satan, all his attacks and lies, that’s tied you down is lifted. He’s here to set the oppressed free. That’s you.

You close your eyes in awe of the words Jesus is speaking to you and your Spirit begins offering a song of praise to God. You don’t deserve all this love. It doesn’t make any sense that you, a sinner in the synagogue with a stained heart, should receive these promises from Jesus. And in that moment, in that moment of thankfulness Jesus says that He is here to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. It wasn’t enough for Him to proclaim good news to you, to free you, to recover your sight and to end your oppression. He’s now promising you a year of the Lord’s favor?! A year of joy and freedom in God?! What.

You eyes are wide open. Your whole being is focused on Him. Nothing and no-one but Him, as if all has gone out of focus. Jesus, compassionately smiling, looks directly at you and says to you “today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing”.

You are no longer poor.
You are no longer a prisoner.
You are longer blind.
You are no longer oppressed.

You, are favored by Jesus.

As I received Jesus’ promises this morning I was moved to tears. Life is tough, it’s not easy. We won’t always get what we want when we want, and sometimes it’s just going to be rough. That’s fact. But it’s also fact that Jesus has always and will always be here. It is fact that He has the power to free me from any hardship I go through. And it certainly is fact that I am loved and favored by Him and He delights over me with singing.

Today, let your wounds be healed in the synagogue.

“Pure religion and undefiled before God the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.” James 1:27

“But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream.” Amos 5:24

May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.

As a church we tend to focus on promising a hope in the life to come, but what about the life we are still living? Jesus didn’t just come to prepare us for our death, but also to teach us how to live. Jesus cared about the hurt and the brokenness in this world. He cared for the widows and orphans. He talked about unjust judges way more than He did about the afterlife. Jesus cared about Justice, in fact Jesus is justice, just like He is love. It is integral to His character.

Jesus is the Prince of Peace. He wept over Jerusalem because they didn’t know ‘the things that make for peace.’ Ironically, the world’s logic says that we must make peace, but we use violence; but Jesus defeated violence with love and peace. Peacemaking does not mean passivity. It is the act of disarming evil without harming the evil doer. Peacemaking starts with what we can change; ourselves. But it doesn’t end there, being a peacemaker also means interrupting the violence we see around us in out streets and in our worlds.

I see my Facebook flooded with pictures and outraged statuses, and we continue to chat about in our living rooms. But when will we be moved enough to actually move. When will we start becoming instruments of His peace. Because, it’s a heartbreaking fact that in the world Christians have become known more for what they are against, rather than what they are for.

We wait on God to act but God is also waiting on us. We ask God why there is so much suffering in the world but maybe God is asking us the same question.We forget that we have spent our Sunday worshipping a homeless man because we ignore him on a Monday. We are His hands and feet. We ask God to move a mountain, but God has already handed us a shovel. We need to pray and act. The world needs our protests and our prayers. The world will continue to suffer if we continue being either inactive believers or unbelieving activists. We need to pray to be people who hold God’s hand in one and our neighbour’s in the other.

We need to pray intentionally to be arrows that strike specifically, because He promised that ; ‘each man’s work will become evident’ 1 Corinthians 3:13, so let us write His promises on the walls of our hearts and pray that He reveals to us His perfect preplanned work for us. Maybe we can’t build a wall, but when each brings his brick, brick by brick,the wall will be built.

“C.S. Lewis wrote: We must picture hell as a state where everyone is perpetually concerned about his own dignity and advancement, where everyone has a grievance, and where everyone lives with the deadly serious passions of envy, self-importance, and resentment.”

Who, in the midst of the preoccupation of hell, would have the energy and generosity for the larger battles? What might it mean if we resolved to abandon every petty, small, and unworthy battle this year? What if we resolved to give ourselves fully to larger things that matter, to things of God and his kingdom? In fact, in a world of so much acute suffering, hurt and need, for what purpose have you and I been granted so much?” Gary Haugen

“Blessed are they who maintain justice, who constantly do what is right.” Psalm 106:3

“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.” Proverbs 31:8-9

Prayer

God please comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable. Let us be disturbed to the point where we cannot accept serving at a distance but that we become active about making a difference.

And I feel empty and broken. I run out of my house and into the streets looking for you but you’re nowhere to be found. You’re gone. Darkness. Brokenness. Hurt. Back to square one.

I’m nervous, so overcome by fear. Every word I hear, every thought I think, every emotion I feel scares me. I think of my future and this ‘huge plan’ you’ve promised me and all I feel is hurt. I utter a few words to you and fall asleep. Waking up is what I dread… those first couple of minutes lying in bed are what get me thinking. Thinking about my future, my purpose, my calling. I feel crippled, I literally can’t move out of fear. Fear of moving forward. Fear of the future. I close my eyes and my lips are shut. Closed as if they’ve been locked. But somehow my soul sings a song of hurt. My soul whispers to you “I need you now. You promised. You promised. Don’t let go now. Don’t let me slip away like this. I need your peace.” I pray. My heart bows down. “I surrender”.

“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you” I hear you whisper in the faintest voice. “I do not give to you as the world gives. My peace is real. My peace is eternal. And I freely give it to you.” My heart remains bowed. Finally you’ve come back. “You’re here, you’re here!” I think to myself. I want to look to you, look straight into your eyes… then I remember. What if you disappear again? What if I’m left alone again? What if this means the cycle will restart? I think and think and think… I begin to cry, even in your presence my enemy has managed to find its way into my heart. Fear. Again.

Suddenly I feel your hand on my face and you make me look to you. I keep my eyes shut. “No more hurt. No more pain. No more.” I think to myself.

Then you wipe my tears with your hand and say with a bold voice “Do not let your heart be troubled and do not be afraid. I give you peace. I give you courage. I give you faith. ”.

I open my eyes for the first time since you’ve entered the room and your eyes look so deeply into mine. I see Fire. I see Glory. I see Love.

I look to the palms that are holding mine and see the marks of the depth of the love you have for me. You whisper to me “a grain of wheat must fall to the ground and die before it can grow and produce much more wheat. If it never dies, it will never be more than a single seed.” I cry. You continue and say “you are Mine and I am yours. You didn’t choose me, I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit – fruit that will last. I have a purpose for you. I will use you, but first you must die.” “Do it now! Please, please… take me now, take my life so I can be with you always… I need you. I really need you. I love you.” I cry, begging you to take me where you are.

Then you smile and pray to the father saying “I am not asking you to take him out of the world. But I am asking that you keep him safe from the Evil One. He doesn’t belong to the world, just as I don’t belong to the world. Make him ready for your service through your truth. Your teaching is truth. I have sent him into the world, just as you sent me into the world.” I understand. I know what you’re telling me. I accept your will.

You place your finger on my chest and tell me “the Spirit of truth, He will guide you into all truth my son. He will bring glory to me by taking what is mine and making it known to you. Remember you are Mine and I am yours. You’re already living eternity. The Father himself loves you because you’ve loved me. You do not realise now what I’m doing, but later you will understand. I love you.” I feel your peace. I know your truth.

Then you, my Creator, get down on your knees in my little room and begin to wash my feet and you whisper “I love you beyond measure my son.” I get down on my knees and hug you. I love you Jesus. I really do. I stay in the stillness of your arms for what seems like eternity, then you whisper “Father, I want everyone you have given me to be with me, wherever I am. Then they will see the glory that you have given me, because you loved me before the world was created.” then you stand up, walk up to my desk and pick up my Bible. You come back and present it to me open and my eyes are drawn to Isaiah 26:3. As I read it I hear you whisper “you will have perfect peace if you keep focused on me.”

You place your hands on my heart, look me dead in the eyes and proclaim with an almighty voice “in this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” And with that promise, you leave my room, my house…

But I no longer need to go into the streets to search for you. I am Yours and You are mine. I know where I can find you, any time of the day in any circumstance you’re here. I know you have a purpose and a plan for me. I know you will use me.

I wanted to find You but You, You found me.