The Bible is full of wild stories.
There are tales of giants, awkward family relationships, dramatic miracles, and even a talking donkey.
Although many of those stories are ripe to be made into a Hollywood blockbuster (or a bad Kirk Cameron movie), my favorite story in the Bible is a subtle tale involving some sand and a woman cloaked in nothing more than her own desperation.
Here’s my version of the story. My apologies to the Bible scholars.
A fun group of lawyers, priests, and professors broke into a house and found two people getting it on. They dragged the woman outside, threw her at Jesus’s feet, and threatened to kill her for committing adultery.
Naturally, Jesus’s response was to draw some lines, words, and pictures in the sand. This should encourage everyone who spaces out during boring meetings and aimlessly doodles because the next words Jesus said were brilliant:
“Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”
This is the first mic drop in human history.
The angry mob sheepishly walked away. Jesus just went back to drawing that cool “S” symbol in the sand.
Of course, in true baller fashion, Jesus acted like none of it was a big deal. He eventually looked up, saw an empty street corner, and asked the lady where everyone went. She told Him that they all pulled an Irish Goodbye and bounced. He told her to leave her negative past behind and to start over.
I love this story because Jesus’s response to the crowd is so perfectly worded that he confuses, frustrates, and humbles the angry mob of religious elites with one sentence. I also love this story because it is a beautiful reminder that God’s unrelenting grace is not dependent on whether I’m good enough.
That’s really important. Because I’m not.
I’m rude. I’m lazy. I’m jealous. I’m selfish. (My wife can list a dozen more negative attributes.) I tell myself that I’ll change and that things will be different next time.
(Seventeen seconds later)
I screw up again.
I grow frustrated. I get mad at myself. I get mad at God. I want to quit, throw my hands up in the air, and walk away. Why bother when I have so much to be ashamed of and my future failures seem so certain?
Because Jesus doodled in the sand.
Not the perfect, holy, or righteous me. But the broken, the prideful, the real me.