Not For A Lack Of Stones

When we were first married, my husband and I spent most of our time together. As the years went by, he seemed to be away from home more and more. He was away from our village much of the time. I was lonely.

I had become friends with a man that sold eggs at the market. I found myself going to the market often. Each time I would pass by his egg stand, we would talk. He was always very pleasant and funny. He seemed to understand me. I found I was becoming attracted to him. Our talks made me less lonely.

One night when my husband was away, there was a knock at my door. It was my friend from the market. He asked if he could come in so we could talk for a while. I said yes. I poured some wine and we sat at the table and we started to talk. We had spoken enough in the past that we knew each other’s stories and troubles. As I talked again about my loneliness, he placed his hand on mine. It was the first time we had ever touched. He picked up my hand and softly kissed it. I kissed his in return. One thing led to another and soon we were in my bed.

Suddenly, the door to my house flew open with a terrible crash. I felt many strong hands grabbing my legs and pulling me out my door. I was pulled out into the street, my hand grasping my blanket. All I could hear were angry voices and all I could feel was the pain and helplessness and humiliation of being dragged naked through the streets. Finally, we came to a stop. I struggled to raise my head and look around to discover what was happening to me.

We were in a small courtyard. All around me were the angry faces of the leaders of my village. I rose to my knees and wrapped my blanket around me to try to cover up a small part of my shame. The village leaders kept pointing and shouting at me. Slowly, they stopped shouting and it became very quiet. I then noticed another group of men, separate from the men that had dragged me here. One of our leaders began to speak to them. He said,” This woman, (pointing his finger at me), was caught in the act of adultery. The Scriptures say she must be stoned to death. What do you say?”

One of the men he was speaking to bent down and began writing on the ground. After a while he stood up and said, “The one among you that has never sinned, you throw the first stone.” Then he bent back down and continued writing.

I lowered my head, shaking uncontrollably. I hugged my legs as tight as I could, waiting for the first stone to strike me. I wondered how many stones would have to hit me before I died. I thought about how painful it will be and how long the pain would last. I also thought about the shame of how I would be remembered.

It felt like an eternity had passed by, but nothing happened. I kept my eyes closed. The only sound I finally heard sounded like stones hitting the ground and footsteps fading away.

When I gathered enough courage to look up, I found I was there all alone, except for the man that had been writing on the ground. He asked me, “Do you see any of the men who were condemning you?” I answered, “No”. Then he said,” I don’t condemn you either. You are free. Go and don’t sin anymore”.


Re: John 8:2-11 (Bible)




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