There were thirteen prostitutes there!

This was sent to be by e-mail from a dear friend. I think this woman is a beautiful picture of how Jesus loved sinners like us. What a treasure! For some reason I see her being much like the widow who gave all she had in her two mites at the offering plate in Luke 21:1-4. Enjoy!

Since I’m concentrating on my mother today, I thought I would re-post some thoughts I had recently when I was talking about the Beatitudes on Facebook. 
Matthew 5:7. "Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.” 
I have an enduring mental image of my mother, sitting at our kitchen table in Australia with her ...arm around a troubled runaway, lovingly explaining to her “why Jesus died” and how she could, by simple faith, give her life to Him. The girl did, and today she is steady as a rock, a wife, mother and dedicated believer.
Multiply this scenario by many, many more, involving not only my mother, but my father, and you'll get a bit of an idea of the atmosphere in my home while I was growing up.
Several years ago, Norman and I ministered as volunteer chaplains to a group of young women in recovery from underage forced prostitution. 
At our church one Sunday, our seventeen-year-old son, Stephen, was baptized, as well as one of the girls from the centre. My mother was so pleased to be able to be there. After the service, she was in her element, chatting comfortably with the girls who’d attended the service to celebrate their friend’s baptism. It was beautiful to watch her connect with them so well. Later that evening, my mother returned to her senior citizens’ complex, still shiny-eyed from the day’s events. One of the other elderly residents (a not-very-happy lady at the best of times) rather abruptly asked Mum where she’d been all day. 
Mum said, “Oh, I went to my grandson’s baptism. It was wonderful! And, guess what? There were THIRTEEN ex-prostitutes there!”  “Eeeewww!” shuddered the lady, as if she’d just discovered a dead mouse under her bed.
There could not have been two more different kinds of people than my mother and that unhappy woman, who had no inkling of the joys one can experience being an extender of mercy. 
Yes, my mother really did know the truth of "Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy."

Vera and Carl Nicolson – early 1960’s