Guilt Free...
Guilty cries the crowd, and they take up stones. The woman has no defender. Caught in the act, dragged out of the room. A cloak thrown around her shoulders to keep out cold. But it cannot hide her sin. Picture yourself as that woman-humiliated, terrified. You are thrust in front of your neighbors, townspeople, people you know. You feel ashamed. They look at you with disdain. you feel like a small child battered by the condemning look of those accusing people. You want to run and hide, but where can you go? Even your own heart condemns you. "Guilty!" It points a finger. A sharp stab of pain cuts at the core of who you are. Overwhelming by waves of sadness and shame, you sink to the ground, huddled in a heap. The crowd presses in. They tower over you, not only bearing down on you but also on Jesus, the one they are questioning. Instead of answering their questions, he bends down and writes in the dust. There is stillness about Him, a composure that will