She

Picture this scene:

On one side you've got Jesus, on the other side you've got a woman with a trash can in her hands. In her trash can is all sorts of rubbish and junk. She's aware of its stench, its contents, its appearance, its weight, its filth, etc; it is the reason she is on one side and He is on the other. In her mind, she can't approach Him until she's cleaned up this rubbish. In her mind, this rubbish is why He "won't" and "can't" approach her. But here He comes. She's shouting, "Unclean!" Letting Him know to keep His distance, she's not clean enough yet. She's so embarrassed and ashamed as He comes closer. In her mind, His eyes will be fixated on the filth between them. But she's wrong. His eyes are locked on her. And without shifting His gaze He gently takes the trash can, she's too humiliated at this point to care what He does now, and He flings it's contents in the air, spreading the trash on the ground all about them. She can't even look at Him now. Her shame is complete, she thinks. She buries her face in her hands, unable to face her garbage and her "Exposer". But to her suprise, He invites her to dance. And in the midst of all her rubbish and on top of all her garbage they dance. He never takes His eyes off her. Slowly she loosens up. Slowly she begins to trust Him. Slowly she begins to trust herself. Slowly the rubbish is reduced to dust. Slowly she begins to realize that what He was after wasn't really a "what" at all, it was a "who" and it was her.