The Voices, the Mud, and the God Who Sees Me

A Meditation on John 8

They pushed me into a crowd of people. Into the middle. Into the arena.
The voices swirled around me, drowning me.
I was left standing alone, the tension around me cutting like a knife.
The crowd seemed to scatter at first and slowly gather again into two groups.
I stood rooted to the spot.
Hot tears stung my eyes, threatening to fall.
I stared at the ground, wishing the earth would open and swallow me whole.

Behind me, the voices grew louder, boring into my back and making the hair on my neck stand up.
They recounted my shame, loudly and so unfairly.
But they didn’t even know half of it, did they now?
I didn’t care. They would never understand me.
And really, I don’t care?

I curled my toes.
I clenched my fists.
My back was straight like a rod.
My head hurt.
I just wished the voices would stop.
It was a trap . It was a snare.
The voices rose in fury, then wavered. In doubt?

But who was this, in front of me?

In my peripheral vision, I saw a man.
He was sitting down. Alone.
I dared not look up.
But something within me stirred.

I lifted my eyes. Not my head.

Through hot tears, I saw his head. But it was bent low.
The voices hummed around me.
Then a sound. Scratching.

The man was bent down… writing something in the mud.

I looked through my eyelashes. What was he doing? Why was he writing?
I tried to read the letters. They were upside down.
Blurry. Unclear.
Still, he wrote.

And then I realized. The voices had stopped.
The man looked up. He had the kindest eyes I had ever seen.
They seemed to look straight into my soul.
And yet… I felt no shame.
Only love. How was this possible?

The sting in my eyes faded. The hair on my neck relaxed. My shoulders dropped. My whole body softened.
And he was saying, "He who is without sin among you, let him throw a stone at her first.”
I looked away. I looked down.

A strange warmth rushed through my chest, through my limbs.
What was that? Dare I look at him again?
I did.
But he had returned to writing in the sand.

I lifted my gaze higher. Could I really believe… that he cared?
I stared at him. Would he look up?
And then…… he did. I did not look away. His eyes were kind.
He asked me, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

And I blinked. I snapped out of my reverie. Where were the men who brought me here?I looked around.
I was alone in the courtyard. And then…. he smiled.

“Neither do I condemn you,” he said. "Go now, and leave your life of sin.”

But I simply stood there. Transfixed .

“How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we may serve the living God!” Hebrews 9:14

Sometimes the voices of condemnation are so loud, they drown out your thoughts. They make you clench your fists. They make you curl your toes in shame.
And when they finally fall silent… your heart keeps echoing them.
Muffled. Muddled. Merciless.

But, God is greater than your heart.
Even when your own heart turns against you.
Even when the weight of your past rises like a tide.

Just focus. Tilt your head.

Watch Jesus’ fingers in the dirt.
He’s doing something to get your attention. Tilt your head.
Look closer.
Focus.

Watch Jesus’ fingers in the dirt.
What is he doing? He’s writing something for you.
To draw your eyes away from shame and onto him.
To quiet the lies. To restore your soul.
He is not shocked by your story.
He is not asking others to speak for you.
He is waiting for you to look up. Won’t you look up? Through your tears? Through your fears? He is waiting.

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face,

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim

In the light of His glory and grace.”

“If our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and knows all things. Beloved, if our heart does not condemn us, we have confidence before God.” 1 John 3:20–21

“Praise be to the Lord, who has not let us be torn by their teeth. We have escaped like a bird from the fowler’s snare; the snare has been broken, and we have escaped. Our help is in the name of the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.” ‭‭Psalms‬ ‭124‬:‭6‬-‭8‬ ‭NIV