Secret Sins of the Heart

Picture a room full of “upstanding” men, well respected, well dressed, and looked up to in their communities.  They have gathered somewhat casually in one of their homes.   Some are reclining on sofas in lively debate about current issues.  Others are standing around, talking politics, and drinking wine.  Some are relaxing leisurely after a long hard day of work.  They are enjoying good food, great wine, and “the fellowship of the ring” also known as “male bonding.”  It is an “invitation only” all male dinner party.  “No Girls Allowed.” 

The men are laughing hardily, talking and having a great time, when a beautifully sensuous woman enters the room.  Suddenly there is silence as everyone stops talking and stares at her. No one dares to say aloud what comes to mind.  All but one is wondering who invited her.  She is a beautiful woman, a very, very beautiful woman, the kind all men fantasize about.   She is shapely and soft, with an edge.  There is an erotic intensity about her, which most experienced men recognize but to one careful observer there is an underlying sadness and longing in her eyes.  She is an irresistibly beautiful woman but she is not just any woman.

She is a mysterious woman with a reputation, the kind of reputation which gets “upstanding” men gossiped about, and into trouble with their wives, sisters, and mothers.  She is the kind of woman other women look their noses down at and men only see in secret for fear they will lose their reputations because of hers.  She walked in all alone, uninvited with a bottle in hand.  She has nothing to lose because she has no reputation to maintain and very few real friends. 

Everyone is curious but no one dares to ask, who invited her or what she’s there for?  As she looks around, the room becomes deathly silent as all the men inhale simultaneously.  Some of the men seem more concerned than others.  A few look nervous, still others seem a bit too pleased.  Those who are new to the “ring” are simply perplexed.  But, there is One among them who is neither concerned, nervous, nor perplexed.  In fact, He is relaxed, pleased and knows exactly why she is there.  She’s there for Him and He knows it will cause a stir and mar His reputation, but He doesn’t care. 

Suddenly, she exhales with a look of curious relief on her face as she finally spots Him sitting at a table across the room.  She looks longingly in His direction.  As she approaches Him, the rest of the men exhale, all at once relieved, because she is not there for one of them, at least not so openly.   The rest of them stare pitifully at the One she is there for but He feels no shame, only intense warmth within as He stares back at her.  He’s glad she came.  Finally, she came.   He knew she would eventually find Him and it pleases Him that she did.

As she approaches Him, He watches her with piercing eyes beckoning her to come.  The other men in the room look horrified.  They’re astonished that He seems so relaxed, so unconcerned.  Surely, He knows who this woman is and what harm she can do to His reputation if anyone ever finds out she came for Him.  But this One just does not seem to give a damn.  Besides, His love for her and desire to connect with her are the lenses through which He sees her.  She walks towards Him, slowly, a bit uncertain, yet determined, as she lets down her long thick black braided hair.  She opens the bottle of fragranced oil she brought with her, feeling no shame, fear, or regret, just an intense longing to touch Him.  She knows once she connects with Him, once she reaches Him, everything will change—everything.

At last, she reaches Him.  She stands before Him.  Neither of them says a single word.  All eyes are staring with the intensity of piercing needles.  He gives her a slight, barely noticeable smile with His eyes.  She is relieved as she senses His approval.  And right there before everyone, she drops to her knees in front of Him.  The mouths of the other men fall wide open as she bends forward, bottle of fragranced oil in hand and begins pouring it onto His sandaled feet.  Eyebrows rise as she takes her long coarse hair and begins to rub the oil in and over the skin of His feet. 

As she rubs His feet with her hair, a tear rolls silently from the corner of her eye down the side of her cheek, then comes another and another, landing on His feet.  With fragranced hair, she gently wipes the tears in with the oil.  Then suddenly, with an uncontrollable force pressing in her chest, the inner floodgate which she had so carefully kept at