He knows the cost

She didn’t pause to fix her appearance,

didn’t wait to piece herself back together.

Instead, she fell at His feet,

unashamed, undone, unrestrained.

Her tears poured like rain,

mingling with the shattered fragments

of what she once held most dear,

now scattered across the floor.

Those tears, that sacrifice—

a fragrant offering, a silent hymn—

anointed the Lord.

She didn’t care about the whispers,

the judging eyes that couldn’t fathom

the weight of her brokenness.

They couldn’t see the price

of the pieces lying there.

But Jesus could.

He saw her.

Every tear, every wound, every fragment.

He felt the pain she poured out,

and He honored her.

Not for her perfection,

but for her surrender.

He isn’t waiting for you to gather the pieces,

to stop the tears or silence the ache.

He’s calling you to come as you are—

to let your heart break wide open at His feet.

This is holy ground.

It’s safe here,

because He knows the cost of the pieces

you’ve laid on the floor.

And He calls them beautiful.