Alabaster Jar

I am not a rare godly woman
So why would you care?
I'm filthy as the woman
carrying the jar of alabaster
Trying to find a place
at the feet of my Master
I have nothing to give nor offer
But my tears and my hair
Both worthless and insignificant
For a woman to whom people are indignant

Unworthy and unlovable
Unseen and misjudged
Rejected and misunderstood am I not?
Kept being reminded of my stained past
While the present is a struggle
I wrestle as much

So tell me godly man?
Would you care for someone
So ugly and broken a woman?
Would you look behind the veil of my past?
And with much love just like Jesus said
Could say that what I did and what I can make is a beautiful thing?