From Stones to Fragrance: A Tale of Mercy and Gratitude

In the light of dawn, 'neath the temple's height,
Where judgment's voice oft rang stern and clear,
Stood a soul, in the midst of her darkest night,
Awaiting the stones of the righteous' sneer.

"Where are thine accusers?" the Just One asked,
As Mercy's hand swept the dust away.
"Not one condemns thee," His voice unmasked
The justice of God, in mercy's sway.

For in His gaze, where law met grace,
A sinner found refuge from her plight.
"Go, sin no more," — a new embrace,
Mercy's justice, shining bright.

Then in Bethany's quiet, a fragrance spilled,
As gratitude's nard filled the air.
Mary's alabaster, willingly drilled,
For the One who made justice fair.

Her tears, a river of thankfulness,
For the life that was raised, the sins absolved.
In that humble act, so selfless,
God's true justice, there resolved.

But not all hearts felt the warmth of her deed,
Indignation stirred in a traitor's mind.
"Why this waste?" he scorned, fueled by greed,
Blind to the love that for him too, pined.

Yet, the Gracious One saw beyond the spite,
To the heart of thanks, pure and contrite.
"Let her alone," He defended her cause,
For in her act, heaven's applause.

So let this tale of old, in verses penned,
Draw souls to the Christ, whose love does not end.
Where mercy and gratitude, hand in hand,
Reveal God's justice, vast and grand.❤️