Full disclosure this is a long read and I’m not even sure if it is for you or more for me. If you do take the challenge to read I pray that God speaks through this blog even an ounce of how much He spoke to me through it.
Our first week in Medellin, Colombia looks a lot different than at first advertised. In another all squad month each team would take turns going to Pastor Willie’s church and house. Normally, we would be doing prison ministry but because of COVID Pastor Willie and his team prayed and declared this a week of healing and growing deeper in understanding the Holy Spirit. One might perceive that one week over the other would be more meaningful and adventurous. I would argue the latter.
Even before we left I was sitting on the rooftop of our base Ciudad de Refugio with an absolutely amazing view of this grand city. You can literally sit there and stare for hours, I believe I have. But this particular morning I wanted to soak in this view before we left for a week. I couldn’t seem to focus on the vastness of buildings as far as the eye can see. I learned and will continue to learn that this is the Holy Spirit’s prompting throughout my life. At the moment I was frustrated with my lack of focus on what I would consider a pretty darn holy moment. The view of a city so badly needing Jesus’ love and reading His word over it all. Instead I couldn’t keep my eyes off this elderly man’s progress of shimming up on his roof right across the street from me. He never once noticed his audience of a girl born miles away from a town less populated than one of their city blocks. I continued watching with abandon to time at this point his progress of climbing over shingles with his Forever 21 bag full of supplies to clean, mend, or replace I’m still not sure. I wondered if his life means more now because of my witness as he smiles down and calls out to a friend below. Does this man’s life have more purpose now, because more people are made aware? Is the purpose of life to be known and do as much as possible before your time is up? Is the meaning of life reduced to experience all that you can, have a relationship only you can deem enough, with the knowledge that what you experience in your youth can sustain the retirement of your identity?
I think I’ve had in my peripheral a plague of the original questions that contributed to push me to my first church service years ago now. These type of questions can live and thrive in a subtle torture of the outskirts of my mind. They often confuse my emotions and my process of healing in the shady way they can dance in and out of my consciousness. But this week we have been voluTOLD to deal with these although livable, deadly wounds. Some wounds you come to God with an internal surgery, cleaning, and stitching up away from freedom. Some are wounds like a cancer that requires constant monitoring, various types of treatments, and necessitates monthly/yearly/bi-yearly check-ups. I am ashamed to say this cancer I’ve forgotten or worse, feared what the check-up would reveal more than the GUARANTEED freedom. I repent (turn 180 degrees from my old self) just as I have before, but like cancer sometimes treatment is needed more than once. Don’t get me wrong God can and will heal us instantly, but I’m not afraid of needing His treatment over and over again in some cases. It means; 1) He loves me enough for the cost of treatment over and over again, 2)I will NEVER be able to boast of my own self-sufficient strength, 3)I am a human who is an image of God who has free will, which is ALWAYS a beautiful thing to continue to discover because just as I can choose to go away from God my love means more and my worship authentically celebrates His glory and victory!! So I will not fight God on the way He chooses to heal.
Back to my first point. He loves me enough for the cost of treatment over and over again. This has been something I’ve been pondering for a while in my heart and it didn’t transfer to my head until I heard one of my squad leaders testimony of her life. I won’t tell her story, as beautiful as it is because it’s not mine to share. However, I will share the spark that has lit the inspiration for this blog. At the end of her story she said “We are not created solely to worship God, but because of His love. We are created to be loved by Him.” Reading this displayed simply by black letters on a page like any other words may decrease the power of them, but in summary to her story it is EVERYTHING. In summary to any point of my story or your story it is in my opinion, albeit simple, the meaning of life and the purpose of it.
Before I went to training camp and started this journey many months ago I was diving into the book of Hosea for some reason with a close friend of mine. Within the first few chapters and within intentional discussion with my friend Casey Endacott (shoutout to my faithful prayer warrior) I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Gomer. Hosea is a prophet in the Old Testament asked by God to marry a prostitute even though he is by all means pure. So he marries her and she runs away to do what she has always done before. God prompts him again to get her back and love her. She does it again, this time getting pregnant by one of her lovers. Hosea still goes to find her and retrieves her to love her. I will probably reread and change the way I feel about this book a hundred times. The first time when I read this as a young Christian I couldn’t fathom the act of Hosea bringing back and treating his partner that cheated on him multiple times with love! This time around I couldn’t see Hosea beyond my own love and grief for a woman forever known and seen with such contempt yet her name is only written once. I couldn’t get rid of my sorrow so much so that one morning during my job millking I was praying about Gomer, a poem came to me. I rushed to my lunch break to write it down before it escaped me. It is included below:
During training camp I was telling some of my new squamates about my love for Gomer and they insisted I read this book called “Redeeming Love,” by Francias Rivers. The more I talked with others it seemed I was the last Christian yet born to read this over 400 page depiction of Hosea. For some reason I waited till this week to start and finish within two days. I have been living with this tale of Michael Hosea and Sarah Hosea in my heart since I finished. In the gospel of Luke he often depicts that Mary holds things in her heart to ponder and I believe that’s what I did and continue to do. What I can allow out is that I loved getting to know Gomer/Sarah/Angel/Amanda/Mandy/Tirzah as the character undergone many names changes and parallel identity development. I loved hearing and seeing and feeling Michael’s love and subconsequint grief, but also massive joy for a women that anybody else would have left if not the first time, at least the second time in a brothel. It is such a beautiful portrayal of God’s love dynamically displayed individually with the hint of projecting it to the masses of this world.
Now at the end of this week with Pastor Willie I am still sitting with a different perspective of this massive city. A city of over 2 million and I can only see but a few. I can only know a few, yet this sabbath as I started singing hymns sung from generations of love and belief my heart started breaking for these millions and for the construction workers building yet another massive complex to house even more of these people that may or may not know of your love. As I was singing in an abandoned room above a church but below the Pastors apartment I was reminded of another familiar fear, I’m afraid I cannot love enough for even the whispers of dreams God allows me to see of my future. I have never been overly affectionate or even quick to tears with my family and friends. It is something I regret as it seems to be expected of me and I never live up. Jesus even confirmed those fears in one verse of Luke 7:47 “But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.” This was when yet another sinful woman came to Jesus to wash his feet with her tears and wipe away the dirt with her hair to pour expensive perfume over his feet. I can only question “am I succumbed to a life of mediocrity because I have not been forgiven of much? Will I never have the zeal of a woman who is perceived by culture as the most to be forgiven from to worship Jesus?
Looking back a few verses, we see love is not measured in dollar amounts, but knowing you are forgiven all the same. Culture does not share this opinion and often tries to weigh sin as debts. But Jesus paid EVERY single debt even before they accrued. Why? Because He loves us. He loves that old man working on his roof, the Gomer/Sarah’s of this world, you, and me even with my pride of not needing as much of His forgiveness. He loves and pursues the ONE even when no one is there to witness. He teaches us to love the ONE even when no one is there to witness.
“Then Jesus said to her, ‘Your sins are forgiven.’ The other guests began to say among themselves, ‘Who is this who even forgives sins?’ Jesus said to the woman, ‘Your faith has saved you; go in peace.’” -Luke 7:48-50
I pray I continue to have faith that God’s forgiveness is mine and mine to share and give as a gift of freedom from a far worse alternative. As we see in Hosea and this story love is there whether we decide to accept it or not. However, love can be understood within the unconditional forgiveness and everlasting faithfulness of the one who loves. I pray, you and I understood today even a little more of how much God loves us, with the prayer we will know more tomorrow. I pray that as we learn more of His word it tethers His love to our hearts stronger and stronger each day. I pray those that feel unlovable and unworthy of the God of the universe’s attention read His prophet Hosea and see the relentless pursuit of the Father for His sons and daughters.
I love how you wove the story of Gomer in with your story and with the stranger on the roof and all of Medellin! Yes, no matter how much we sin (or think we haven’t) we’re ALL in desperate need of the sacrifice of Jesus to give us hope for eternal life. When we’re blind to that need, it doesn’t seem all that important; but when we’ve been made aware of our own desparation, like the woman washing Jesus’ feet with her hair, we realize how great of a gift God has given us! I’m so thankful He didn’t give up on me….even though I had given up on myself at one time!