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Even Me

The Mary Magdelene story

A monologue

I don’t know how I could bring myself to do what I did last night. How I could be so… forward. But this Carpenter has spoken such words of hope… answering questions about God I haven’t known how to ask. Last night, I wanted to be with Him. To sit like the men sit with Him. To lay my head on His shoulder the way His disciple John does. I wanted the chance to love Him. So yes, I stole in the house… I had to. I remember Peter’s anger at seeing me there, and as the room began to turn into an inferno of masculine furry, I knew that they knew what I was… the words sinner and unclean were like a knife to my heart. But then I saw Jesus, welcoming me, beckoning me with that smile of His… Looking for all the world as though He had been waiting for me… as though He had always known we’d meet one day. I broke my alabaster box over his feet and uncovered my hair. Each action felt clumsy and insufficient. The tears I cried, I hardly felt sliding down my cheeks. And when I touched His feet with my hair, I thought for half a second to kiss them. It was strange when He lifted my face to meet His. His expression was my first glimpse of… love. I felt beautiful, even though the dirt and grime from His feet was smeared across my face and in my hair… and I felt filled and rich, even though my dowry, my whole life’s saving’s, had been broken over His feet. I went to Jesus last night to love Him… I just didn’t know that He could love me. Even me.


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