the prostitute

I love prostitutes.

Maybe not in the way some people do. Maybe not in the way you first might think.

I love prostitutes because Jesus loves prostitutes. I love prostitutes because they are people with hopes and thoughts and dreams and fears and feelings. I love prostitutes because prostitutes are worthy of pure, most excellent love; after all, they’re sons and daughters of freakin’ GOD!

And the thing is, we’re all prostitutes, aren’t we? Looking for love. Offered the real thing but trying to find it elsewhere. Walking down the aisle to wed the King while still wearing our whore’s clothes, fully aware of the judgmental whispers of those looking on. “Doesn’t He know who she is?”

Yet the King stands at the altar with joyful tears in his eyes, amazed at your beauty and wanting nothing more than to be with you, though you were never so faithful as He. He was always the best lover there could be.

And as his eyes well up with tears at the sight of you his bride, all he can see is you veiled in a beautiful white dress, coming down the aisle toward Him to become forever married.

You feel so ashamed, clothed in your prostitute’s garments, about to marry a most perfect Man. But in that very moment, He calls you beautiful. Not beautiful in the way the rest of the world called you beautiful, longing only to seduce you in order to take advantage of your heart. But He’s smitten by the messy beauty of your heart; head-over-heals crazy about the smile in your eyes. He is totally taken by you, helplessly in love with all of who you are. He paid a price for you; not so He could take advantage of you like all your lovers beforehand. But it was so that He could show you a true love.

And as He said “I do,” He said you were worth it, worth every drop of his own blood. Worth the blood of a God.

All for you, his stunning, spotless bride.

“The King is enthralled by your beauty; honor him, for He is your Lord.” -Psalm 45:11

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