Surprised by grace

Lately I've been thinking about the story of Jesus and the woman caught in adultery. It's found in John 8:1-11.

The teachers of the law and the Pharisees are anxious to catch Jesus in a trap, so they bring this woman to the temple courts. Jesus is seated, teaching a crowd of people gathered around him. The religious leaders interrupt, saying that under the Law of Moses this woman should be stoned. They ask Jesus what he thinks should be done.

At this point they might be avoiding sidelong glances at each other. They probably are working hard not to break into grins. They've got him! They know the Romans don't allow the Jews to carry out death sentences, so if Jesus says to stone her he'll be in trouble with them. But if he says to let her go, he will be violating Moses' law.

Never mind that the law required the execution of both parties. For whatever reason, her partner was allowed to escape, and she was brought to the temple, her humiliation on display for dramatic effect.
Instead of answering the religious leaders, Jesus bends down and writes on the ground with his finger. Which is pretty funny, when you think about it--Jesus, ignoring them, playing in the dirt. We don't know what he was writing, but we do know that it drove the religious leaders crazy. They kept questioning him.

Finally Jesus stands up and says, "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her." Then he stoops down and goes back to writing.

And they leave. One at a time, oldest ones first. Finally, only the woman is left.

Gently, Jesus says, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"

She replies, "No one, sir."

"Then neither do I condemn you," Jesus says.

His answer must have washed over her like wave on the sand. Cleansing, obliterating the past.

Expecting judgement, the woman is surprised by grace. Grace so powerful, so unexpected that Jesus' next statement seems like a no-brainer.

"Go now and leave your life of sin."

Having met grace at the point of her greatest need, her deepest humiliation, her darkest hour, she is ready to follow Jesus anywhere. No way would she go back to where she'd been. She's been transformed by grace.

One thing that has always bothered me about this story is the absence of her partner. Adultery takes two, after all.

It isn't fair. He didn't have to bear public humiliation. He didn't have to sit while the Pharisees watched their best-laid plans to trap Jesus unfolded. He didn't have to wait while they decided who would throw the first stone.

He got away with it.

For the rest of his life, he carried the guilt of his transgression. He didn't get to meet Jesus face-to-face and hear his words of pardon. He got away with it, but he wasn't transformed. He didn't receive grace.

My journey to hysterectomy

At a well-woman check up this summer, my doctor noted I had an enlarged uterus. A sonogram revealed two benign cysts, called fibroids, The largest measured 8 cm, which is bigger than a baseball. Fibroids grow during the influx of estrogen that happens during every menstrual cycle. Once a woman goes through menopause, the fibroids will shrink to about a third of their size.

At 46, I am not too far away from 51, the average age women go through menopause. However, my mom and grandmother both were closer to 60 when they stopped, so I was looking at most likely 10 years or more for my baseball to become a softball or (yikes!) volleyball.

The other problem I have is menstrual migraines, also handed down to me from my mother and grandmother. Since entering my 40s I have been getting increasingly severe monthly headaches, caused by the fluctuating hormone levels during my cycle. Although there are no guarantees that removing my ovaries will eliminate migraines, it seemed like a risk worth taking. The possibility of skipping 120 debilitating three-day headaches over the next 10 years makes me smile.

The decision wasn't easy, though. I believe God made our bodies to function pretty well, and altering anything is risky. When I was debating whether to have  my ovaries removed, my doctor mentioned a trying a Lupron shot, which would put my body into menopause. Then we could see how my body would react, and if the headaches would go away.

Lupron is expensive, I found out, around $800 a dose. The doctor's office had to jump through hoops to clear it with my insurance. Then the Aetna drug people called me to make sure I wanted it before they shipped it. On the day I was to have the shot, I looked Lupron up on WebMD. Numerous patient reviews said the side effects were horrible. Most were taking it to relieve pain from endometriosis, and even the women who were getting help from the drug still weren't sure it was worth it. Several reviewers expressed regret for ever taking it and begged other women to reconsider.

I'd read enough John Grisham books about irresponsible drug companies to be completely freaked out by that, and I cancelled my appointment to get the shot. In the following weeks Aetna robo-called me numerous times, wanting me to refill my prescription. No thank you.

So I went into surgery on Friday with no real guarantees that this will help my headaches, although I think it will. I will no longer have the discomfort from the fibroids.

Since we are self-employed, we've had bare-bones insurance for years. We were forced to switch with ObamaCare last year. Right now it looks like it will be a blessing. From what I can tell our portion of the bill will be manageable.

I delayed having the surgery until we were through with our regular lawn care for the season. I've been looking forward to my eight weeks of recovery. I checked out Middlemarch by George Eliot (Mary Anne Evans), an 800-page classic novel found on many "must read" lists. I also plan to blog and set our business up on QuickBooks.

Right now the other employees of Franklin Lawn Service are getting ready for snow removal. I think I will take a nap.