When the Stones Drop

Resilience in the Presence of External Condemnation

We often think about resilience as the loud, aggressive act of overcoming adversity. But, true resilience is frequently found in the quiet moments that follow intense conflict—the moments when the external noise finally subsides. In the story of the woman caught in adultery, we witness a instructive turning point: one by one, the accusers drop their stones and leave her alone with Jesus. It is in this silence, this sudden absence of condemnation, that the seeds of her transformation are sown by the Son of God himself.

The Departing

In one of the most incredible “you win” moments in the Bible, the religious accusers climb down off their high horses and begin to disperse. One by one, they walk away, leaving the woman alone with Jesus. Their plot has failed fantastically. They have delivered the woman to the very thing her heart longed for. I love it when Jesus rescues evil events this way. Nothing is wasted in the kingdom's economy. To be alone with Jesus like this can be very disruptive. This is why most people avoid it these days. It's not what we're used to. For years, if not decades, our sense of identity can be built around the expectations and judgments of others, those who love us and have a plan for our lives. When those external voices vanish, what remains is raw and unmediated: just you, and the invitation to redefine who you are by the one that made you.

Imagine the emotional impact of having the pressure of other's expectations lifted. For so long, the weight of constant external validation or condemnation can dictate how we see ourselves. We begin to internalize those voices until they become part of our very identity. For me, this process started around 14. I didn't realize how far I had taken it until almost twenty years later when it almost broke my marriage, but that's a story for another day. When the stones drop, there is an abrupt silence—a space where the constant echo of judgment is no longer present. Still, this silence can be disorienting. It is not always immediately welcome. There is a moment when you realize that, without the expectations of others, you are entirely on your own.

This moment of solitude is a double-edged sword. On one hand, it offers liberation from the oppressive burden of external validation. On the other hand, it can be deeply unsettling if you’ve come to rely on those voices—be they critical or, conversely, overly affirming—to define your worth. Without these external markers, we are forced to face the raw, unfiltered version of ourselves. And it is in that space that true resilience begins to take root.

The Disorientation of Grace

For many of us, the constant struggle becomes our norm. We are so accustomed to fighting against criticism, against rejection, that the sudden arrival of peace can feel unfamiliar—even uncomfortable. The woman’s encounter with Jesus is a powerful illustration of this paradox. Having lived under the weight of relentless condemnation, she finds herself facing an unexpected reality: grace.

Grace is transformative, but it is not always easy to recognize. When you have spent a lifetime in battle—whether that battle is against external judgment, internalized shame, or both—the notion of being free from conflict can be profoundly disorienting. It’s like stepping into a room that suddenly feels too quiet after years of relentless noise. In that quiet, you may find that peace, though present, is foreign and offensive to you in different ways.

If this has been your experience. I want you to know, this disorientation is part of the process. It is the necessary discomfort that comes when old versions of us, built around survival and self-protection, begin to give way. When our accusers leave, the void they leave behind is not simply empty—as hard as it is to believe when it's happening, this space is filled with the potential for grace and transformation. But, for some used to the constant accusations of shame, this newfound space can feel out of place, not for us. There is an adjustment period, a time when you must learn to stand on your own without the crutch of being friendly with what others are saying about you. Today, I call this type of living settled. It's a simple word. It calls back to a simpler time. And I believe it should be our collective new goal. When we are settled, we have much less inclination to determine our destiny based on our limited perspecitve. As I've stated before, we are a pitiful version of Yahweh, but through the onslaught of our shame, we just keep trying, don't we?

Learning to Stand on Your Own

The transition from condemnation to freedom doesn't happen overnight. It doesn't even happen in a year. Many of the greats who have gone before us were known to say it takes a lifetime. Why is this so hard for us? It requires that we learn to stand on our own two feet to validate from within rather than relying on the fickle and fad-based opinions of others. This is a core principle of emotional health: who we are is defined by our maker, not by our brother.

This shift begins with awareness. Notice the times when you look for approval from others. Admit how deeply those external voices have defined your sense of self. Then, gradually, work on nurturing an internal dialogue that is compassionate, encouraging, and anchored in your inherent worth as a child of the King.Habits like journaling, meditation on the Sacred Text, or even conversations with trusted friends, meaning ones who actually know you, can help in this regard. Over time, you learn that your value does not depend on the presence or absence of others’ opinions, but rather on what the Garden and the Cross communicated to us: Yahweh didn't want to be without us and the price paid for us means his love for us is something beyond our current comprehension.

Jesus’ Response

I'm certain the woman caught in adultery didn't understand this that day either. But, she experienced it standing there, meeting Jesus' gaze. I'm jealous of her for this. What a moment. In the quiet aftermath of judgment, Jesus’ response is subtle and full of power. His silence in the face of the accusers, and the calm presence He offers to the woman, serve as affirmation. Have you ever been affirmed by another? It's a moving experience. So moving, in fact, it almost makes us want to hide, to remove ourselves from the conversation. Can you imagine the emotions this woman was feeling as she felt seen by Jesus? Jesus, not pawing her for sex, saw her as a daughter of Eve created for purposeful things unrelated to her ability to give physical pleasure to another.

Without the external voices dictating her worth, the woman is invited to see herself differently. Likewise, this invitation is extended to each of us: to step out from the shadows of condemnation and to embrace a life defined by grace rather than fear. It’s a call to rebuild our identity on a foundation of worth—a foundation that remains steadfast.

Jesus’ quiet affirmation is a longstanding reminder that freedom comes not from external approval but from an inner understanding of our inherent value. Do you know your worth? I imagine you've never thought about this question in a positive light. I get it. Our inner critic has incredible intensity and fortitude. I've lost the battle with him more than I have won. If you're in that place as you read this, here's a passage for you to think on, an antidote for low self-worth as it were:

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
and the son of man that you care for him?

Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
and crowned him with glory and honor.
You have given him dominion over the works of your hands;
you have put all things under his feet,
all sheep and oxen,
and also the beasts of the field,
the birds of the heavens, and the fish of the sea,
whatever passes along the paths of the seas.

Psalm 8:3-8

Reclaiming Your Story

As you consider your life, I invite you to ask: *What voices have I allowed to define me? How can I rebuild resilience from a foundation of grace rather than fear?* These questions are not meant to be answered flippantly or in haste. They are the beginning of a dialogue—a conversation between you and Jesus that changes the old thought patterns and opens the door to a new way of living.

Keep in mind, the process of true transformation is gradual. It requires patience, persistence, and a willingness to face the discomfort of change. The journey from feeling condemned to feeling free is not a straight line; it is filled with setbacks and moments of doubt. Surround yourself with friends who have permission to remind you in these times that they are, although heavy, most certainly temporary. Each time you choose to confront those internal voices and affirm your own worth, you are taking a crucial step toward rebuilding your identity on a foundation built by Jesus and offered freely to those who trust him.

A Final Invitation

My goal here is that, like most things I write, this article will serve as both a challenge and a comfort. The next time you find yourself burdened by the voices of external judgment or the relentless inner critic, stop and then stand up against it. Embrace the silence that follows the storm of condemnation. In that quiet space, ask yourself: *What voices have I allowed to define me? How can I rebuild resilience from a foundation of grace rather than fear? What is Jesus trying to say through all this noise?

Don't delay this work. You most likely already dawdled in shame for far too long. Commit to reclaiming your story by hearing the words of Jesus:

Neither do I condemn you.

May you find the courage to step into the silence and be with Jesus, to face the space left behind by the accusers, and to build a resilient life that honors your true worth, a worth that led Jesus to step down from his place in Heaven and rescue you in the first place.

In that quiet, there is hope.

In that absence, there is a promise of renewal.

And in your journey from feeling condemned to feeling free, there is a path to a deeper, more authentic form of resilience. Embrace the silence. Reclaim your story. With Jesus as the final word, start your journey toward resilience today.