Broken Pieces

She peeled her arm from underneath his head, hoping not to wake him. It’s rare that someone stayed overnight. They normally left immediately afterward to keep their secret safe. Coins were left on the nightstand. There were a few who would throw her money on the ground and watch her crawl like a dog to pick it up. Looking down on her helped them feel better about themselves.

She was used to it by now. Some would shake their head and look at her with pity. It was the same look her husband gave her once he realized that she couldn’t bear him a son. When he died, she was left all alone with no children and his debt to pay. Her mother’s eyes read disappointment while her father avoided her altogether.

Anything. She would do anything to never see pity on anyone’s face ever again.

When she did it for the first time, she figured one more time wouldn’t hurt. It was helping her pay off the debt and no one knew about it. Or so she thought. During the day, men would cut their eyes towards her. The same ones would then enlist her services later that night. They would show up at odd times or she was summoned to their homes- always through the back door in the wee hours of the morning.

She eased out of the bed hoping not to wake her latest customer. She padded across the room to grab some wood to add to the fire and heat up some water. When she turned around, he was sitting up in the bed.

“Mary, your services are as good as I’ve heard.” He smoothed his beard and smiled showing broken teeth. She cringed inside but plastered a smile on her face followed by a wink. The nicer she was, the more likely she would get a tip or a returning customer.

“Would you like some tea?” she purred.

“No, no. I’ve got to get to my booth. I heard Jesus will be in town which means the crowds will be out. That means extra money,” He smiled slyly, “which also means I can come see you again.”

Jesus. She had heard of him before. Some were calling him the Messiah. She heard how he was performing miracles on the Sabbath and teaching to thousands. The Pharisees were always huddled together with their heads bent inward, hissing about his teaching. It was almost as if they had a permanent frown etched onto their faces whenever his name came up.

She even overheard someone saying that he eats with thieves and tax collectors. Was that so bad? Tax collectors weren’t as treacherous as they seemed. Most of them treated her kind afterwards. She wondered if he ever spent time with unfavorable women.

She wasn’t proud of her life. Lately, there was this . . . this weight sitting on her shoulders. Heavy. Weighing her down. Each day she woke up and felt like life was strangling her. She didn’t have direction and felt she was in too deep to ever receive redemption. Each morning, opening her eyes and seeing the light of day was beginning to feel like a curse. She longed for death to come in the night and steal her life away the same way the first time stole away her conscious.

Last week, she even found herself wanting to take one of her customer’s knives and plunge it into her heart- what was left of it. It seemed to be a shamble of broken pieces. She only knew it still existed because when she would hear the soft cooing of a baby, it twisted and throbbed with pain.

Once her customer left, she grabbed her bucket and started her journey to the well to get more water. She fell in step behind some of the village women who were talking about Jesus feeding over five thousand people.

“He took the broken pieces and multiplied them. It was amazing.”

Broken pieces? Her head snapped up in their direction. Jesus can make sense of broken pieces? Mary’s mind started to wander, and she felt a stirring in her heart that was unexpected yet familiar at the same time. She followed closely behind the women as they kept talking and heard that Jesus would be at the house of one of the Pharisees in the city before supper.

She hurried through her daily tasks because she had to see this Jesus for herself. Was everything they said about him true? Was he the Messiah? She remembered her family saying he had meager beginnings as a carpenter. Maybe she had seen him and just not known it. Perhaps he saw her as well She admonished her silly thinking. She was invisible to me like him.

When it was close to time for supper, she felt butterflies stir in her stomach. She couldn’t bring herself to eat. She started to make an attempt to dress herself up but when she looked in the mirror, she lost all interest in applying coal to her eyes or adorning her head with any of her richly hued, silk scarves. She heard, come as you are, whispered softy in her spirit. She didn’t want to go empty handed to the home so she grabbed her jar of perfume to present as an offering to Jesus should she have the chance to meet him.

On the road, she kept her head down and ignored the advances of some of the men. Her heart beat faster the closer she got to the destination. She knew she was headed in the right direction because there was more traffic than normal, making it a bit easier to blend in. There was a magnetic pull that hurried her feet along but, in her mind, she started to doubt if she should continue. She knew she was unworthy to be in the presence of this Jesus. If he had done half of the things she heard, what would he want with anyone like her. She was a sinner and felt like her heart was destined for Hades. Yet, she couldn’t justify turning back home. Something propelled her forward.

The crowd thickened around one of the front doors of a home letting her know she had arrived. She ducked and weaved her way through the crowd, hiding herself amongst the crowd. A man with thick curly hair and dark bronze skin soon entered and sat at the table. He had strong hands and serious yet welcoming eyes. She ducked behind others hoping to just hear what this teacher had to say. But, as she stood, she felt her pulse quicken and again heard the same words, come as you are.

She eased forward and felt her eyes brim with tears. Her body started to convulse, and she did her best to bury the cry that wanted to rip out of her throat. As each tear rolled down her cheeks, she took a step toward Jesus. She couldn’t stop herself. She heard the whispers and gasps as she knelt down and removed his sand-covered sandals from his feet. Large droplets of her tears continued to fall, puddling on his feet. She realized that she had no towel, so she wiped his feet with her hair. In between each wipe, she kissed each foot adoringly.

She kissed his feet for every time she would see blood on her robe months into her long-awaited pregnancy. She kissed his feet for every time she felt unworthy after a customer left her home. She kissed his feet in thankfulness that he dwelt amongst mere men. As she wiped and kissed, she felt the broken pieces of her heart start to piece themselves together. Her tears were shifting to tears of joy for being in the presence of the Messiah. She poured the fragrant oil over his feet praying that his journey would be sweet and anointed. The fragrance from the oil filled her nostrils as a hush fell over the room.

The Pharisee loudly sucked his teeth and turned his head in disgust. He motioned towards one of the women as if to ask how such a guest had entered his home. That is when she heard Jesus say, “Simon, I have something to say to you.”

“Teacher, say it,” he replied.

“A creditor had two people who owed him money. One owed five hundred while the other fifty. Neither had anything in which to repay the creditor, so he freely forgave them both. Tell me, which of the people will appreciate and love the creditor more?”

Simon answered by saying, “I suppose the person who was forgiven of the most debt.”

“You have judged correctly.” Jesus motioned toward her and she felt her heart leap for joy. “Do you see this woman? When I entered this house, I was not given water to wash my feet, but she had washed my feet with her tears and wiped them with the hair of her head. I did not receive a kiss but this woman has not stop kissing my feet. No one anointed my head with oil, but this woman has anointed my feet with fragrant oil. Therefore, I say to you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much. To whom little is forgiven, the same loves little.”

Mary looked her into her Messiah’s eyes and he said to her, “Your sins are forgiven.”

She felt a genuine smile spread across her face. The first one she had given in years. It was as if the broken pieces of her heart were mended together witch each word he spoke.

“Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”

The weight that she had carried on her shoulders was immediately lifted. She wanted to leap in victory. Her life had been forever changed. She smiled at her Redeemer and he smiled back. A smile that she would carry with her for years to come.