Follow My Lead: When He Looked at Me
Read First: Luke 7:36–50
By now, you may be wondering why this story has captured my heart so deeply.
The truth is...
I see myself in the woman at Jesus' feet.
Not because our stories are identical.
But because I know what it feels like to believe you've disappointed God.
As a young high school girl, I made a choice that became public.
Until then, I had always tried to stay close to God.
I wasn't a risk taker.
I liked following the rules.
I'd grown up hearing that God loved me.
That He forgave me.
I knew those truths in my head.
But after my choice became known, something changed.
Not with God.
With me.
The voices around me became louder than the voice of the Shepherd.
People had opinions.
Some were disappointed.
Some quietly decided who I was.
Before long...
I believed them.
If people saw me as damaged...
Surely God did too.
I knew He forgave me.
I just couldn't believe He still delighted in me.
Then one day...
I read this story.
Everything else disappeared.
The room.
Simon.
The guests.
The whispers.
They all faded into the background.
All I could see was Jesus.
Looking at her.
And somehow...
Looking at me.
His eyes never moved.
His love never wavered.
It was as though He quietly extended His hand with the gentlest smile and whispered,
"My child...
Your choices are not the sum of who you are.
They do not define you.
I will use them to refine you.
You are becoming the woman I created you to be.
Despite what others may believe...
You are beautiful.
You are deeply loved.
You are My Father's daughter.
You are forgiven.
Go in peace."
That moment changed everything.
Not because everyone else's opinions disappeared.
They didn't.
I still had to learn which voices deserved my attention.
I had to keep returning to the Shepherd until His voice became louder than every other voice competing for my heart.
But I never forgot His eyes.
His gentleness.
His compassion.
His invitation.
Then something else began to happen.
Jesus didn't simply heal my heart.
He changed my eyes.
Before that season, I often looked at people the way most of us naturally do—through their behavior.
After sitting at His feet, He taught me to look deeper.
Real relationships aren't shallow.
Love lingers.
Love grows curious.
Love asks questions.
Love seeks to understand.
I found myself asking different questions.
Not,
"What's wrong with them?"
But...
"What happened to them?"
"What are they carrying?"
"What pain is hiding beneath what I can see?"
Because that's what Jesus had done for me.
He didn't ignore my sin.
Neither did He allow it to become my identity.
He looked through it.
He saw the daughter His Father had created beneath the shame, the fear, the poor choice, and every label others had placed upon me.
He saw the good.
And He was captivated by it.
Looking back now, I realize the greatest pain wasn't the consequence of my choice.
I knew I had made a poor choice.
The Holy Spirit had already brought conviction to my heart.
The deepest wound came afterward.
One choice was allowed to define me.
Instead of seeing a lifetime of faithful choices...
Many people saw only the one that went public.
One chapter became my entire story.
Jesus taught me that one poor choice should never become someone's identity.
He addressed sin honestly.
Then He restored the relationship.
He reminded people who they were becoming, not simply what they had done.
I've often wondered how different my journey might have been if more people had helped me understand the Father's heart instead of simply reminding me of my failure.
I didn't need more shame.
I already carried enough.
I needed someone to point me back to Jesus.
Someone to remind me that while my choice was real, it wasn't my identity.
That's what Jesus did for the woman in Simon's house.
That's what He did for Peter after the denial.
That's what He has done for me again and again.
Today, I find myself looking beyond behavior and searching for the story beneath the surface.
I've learned that what people bring to the table isn't always the whole story.
Some wounds are visible.
Many are not.
Some choices are freely made.
Others grow out of hurt, fear, rejection, or lies that have been believed for years.
I can't always know someone's story.
But I can always begin with grace.
I've discovered that grace gives us the courage to become curious.
It slows us down long enough to pray,
"Father, help me see this person the way You do."
Not simply for who they are today...
But for who You created them to become.
If my story has taught me anything, it's this:
Jesus didn't simply forgive me.
He revealed the Father's heart.
He showed me that restoration begins with relationship.
The closer I've walked with Him, the more I've discovered that the Father isn't waiting to condemn His children.
He's inviting them home.
And as I continue following Jesus, I've begun to realize that every encounter is an invitation.
An invitation to reveal the Father's heart the way Jesus revealed it to me.
Not perfectly.
But faithfully.
Not by pretending I have all the answers.
But by staying close enough to the Shepherd that His voice becomes louder than my own.
If one day someone walks away from an encounter with me believing that the Father is more loving...
More patient...
More gracious...
More truthful...
More trustworthy...
Then perhaps they haven't simply met me.
Perhaps they've caught a glimpse of Jesus.
And if they've caught a glimpse of Jesus...
They're already one step closer to the Father's heart.
Make It Personal
Have you ever allowed one moment...
One mistake...
One label...
To become your identity?
Whose voice has shaped the way you see yourself?
The voice of shame?
The voice of regret?
The voice of disappointment?
Or the voice of the Shepherd?
Return to Luke 7.
Read it slowly.
Watch Jesus.
Not Simon.
Not the crowd.
Watch Jesus.
Notice where His eyes rest.
Notice His gentleness.
Notice His compassion.
Now imagine yourself at His feet.
What do you think He wants you to know today?
Stay there.
Linger.
Listen.
Then ask Him,
"Father, help me see myself the way You see me. Heal the places where I've believed the wrong voices. Teach me who I truly am as Your child."
Write what comes to mind.
Don't rush.
The Shepherd still calls His sheep by name.
Practice Today
Today, ask the Father to help you see one person through the eyes of Jesus.
Choose someone you might normally misunderstand...
Someone who frustrates you...
Someone carrying a reputation...
Someone you've quietly judged.
Before making an assumption...
Pause.
Pray.
Become curious.
Ask,
"Father, what might I not know about this person's story?"
Then choose one small act of grace.
Listen before speaking.
Encourage instead of assuming.
Invite instead of excluding.
Restore instead of labeling.
Remember...
Every encounter is an opportunity to reveal something about the Father's heart.
May someone leave your presence today believing that God is more gracious because they experienced His grace through you.
Dig Deeper
Luke 7:36–50
Psalm 139:13–18
Isaiah 43:1–4
Romans 8:1–2
2 Corinthians 5:17
Galatians 6:1–2
James 2:13
1 John 3:1
John 14:9