For some days now I've been attacked with feelings of guilt. Somehow I've thought way too much about the things I regret. The days when this happens are so hard for me, I fight not to sink under the weight of it all. My heart grows dull.

I become the Jewish woman caught in a sinful act.

My accusers bring me to Jesus, tales of my disgrace on their tongues. Their pointing fingers full of humiliation. The glances I get from them leave no trace of mercy, let alone room for love. I advert my eyes and focus on the ground as I am carried closer and closer to the famous Teacher and Carpenter. I was caught in my sin and there's no way out. I lose my will to live or defend my case. What was I thinking?

I deserve to be stoned.

Finally, I'm thrown with despise before Jesus and I fall on my hands and knees. My accusers relating the story of my sin and shame. When I hear no answer from Jesus. I look up and I realize that He is also kneeling, writing on the ground. His face is calm, He seems to be unaware of the commotion that's taking place around Him. I find myself wondering what He's writing, I can't quite make the words out, but I get a strange feeling that I'll find out someday.

Seeing that my accusers wouldn't give up trying to get an answer from Him, Jesus stood up, wiping the dust from His hands. I steal a glance at His eyes. Oh, those eyes! They speak volumes of things too deep to be understood by a simple woman like me.

I stare in horror at the stones and rocks in the hands of my accusers. Those stones and rocks that would bring my life to an end. I allow myself a look at Jesus' face, if this is the end, for some reason I want His face to be the last thing I see. I close my eyes and wait for the first blow.

"Yes, stone her" I hear him say in a voice that no one would dare to disobey, "but let whoever is free from sin be the first to cast a stone."

My accusers are shocked, as I am. Slowly, the stones return to the ground and I breathe again. One by one, my accusers disappear with heads hanging and shoulders slumped.

I am left alone with Him and stand up at His command. I'm shaking, I know now that He is the only One righteous enough to condemn me, but a look into His eyes steadies me. My tears flow again, now of relief and thankfulness.

"Did any of them condemn you?" He asks me.

"No, my Lord," I answer weakly.

"Then neither do I condemn you. Go, sin no more, my daughter."

As Jesus loved me, He loves you. Unconditional love with no strings attached. Let Him put your accusers to shame and let His grace change you.