Gomer--Part 3

Somewhere, though, since then my heart broke for this woman. And I see her as a woman. Not her profession, not her title, not her scarlet letter but a woman. The excitement of catching a glimpse of "the sinner" has worn off and in her stead is burned the image of a tired, lonely, broken woman scarred by a life of disappointments. Yes her decisions brought her the Avenue, brought her to the vulnerability of prostitution, brought her to the humiliation of being paid for her body. But, I wonder, what informed her decisions--abuse, neglect, addiction, pain, desperation, anger, hatred.

And I'm met here with my own heart and my own decisions. I am met with questions demanding answers, demanding a look into the mirror opening the doors of my heart long closed.

Am I so very different from this one?
How often are my decisions informed by fear and pain?
How often do I find myself in sin because of those decisions?
I am a slave set free, a prisoner unbound, a student of the Truth, what are my excuses for my sin?

And the questions I asked myself that day as I neared this woman in my superiority return, yet in the humility of the mirror they take new meaning, becoming a prayer. What dio I do? Do I dare make eye contact? Do I dare speak to this woman?