Sufficient Unto the Day…

As I write this, I am assuming that my brothers and sisters in Christ are still around to read it (not that they do – Forgive them Lord, for they know not what they miss). I posit this as many have forecast that the rapture of the church would have occurred yesterday on September 23. That so many would presume to make such a prediction despite Jesus having said no one knows the day or the hour1, it serves to remind us how selective many of us are in our reading of the scripture.

Notwithstanding, I am grateful that it did not occur. I’ve always been somewhat fearful of the rapture – of being caught up in the air2. My fears are personal ones – I don’t like heights and I’m afraid that there might be a weight limit. Having visited Legoland with my daughter, I was surprised that every ride had a weight limit that I exceeded, though they were happy to take my full price of admission without the advisal that my presence would only be supervisory. I imagine the rapture occurring while I am working in the yard – a flash of light, perhaps, and as in the movies my clothing being left in a heap next to the weedwhacker. But, as I am carried up to perhaps 30-35 feet, I imagine my lift subsiding and plunging back to the earth. While the world marvels at the disappearance of the church, I am later found, naked, scratched, battered, and bruised amongst the rose bushes and bougainvillea. So, I am sincerely grateful that no one knows the day or hour, most especially me. I can focus instead on keeping my heart ready and repeatedly visiting the gym to lessen my weight and my fears.

We live in a fallen world – don’t look at me, it was fallen when I got here. Despite that awareness, it still shocks us when evil people do evil things. I once worked in a jail, processing detainees in and out, and it opened my eyes to the realization of how blind I was. I had always assumed that evil people – murderers, rapists, robbers, and other sundry criminals; would look evil. But it was the banality of evil, the banality of both their appearance and their manner, that was both shocking and terrifying. My comfortable confidence that their villainy would be easily recognizable was shattered and I found myself reluctant to engage with faces that seemed familiar, as I could never be sure as to on what side of the bars I had previously encountered them.

But as evil befalls the righteous and unspeakable acts are perpetrated by the heretofore seemingly innocent, I take comfort in the sure and certain knowledge that the world is safely in our Lord’s hands. I will trust in Him (still working on the weight-limit thing, though). Jesus admonished us in Luke 12:34 “Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” Accordingly, sufficient unto the day is the good thereof. I will be grateful for each day lent to me and trust Him for his faithful provision.

1 Matthew 24:36 But of that day and hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only.

2 1st Thessalonians 4:17 Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.

The Witch of Endor

The witch of Endor1 recently paid me a visit. You may recall that she was the necromancer that King Saul visited so as to confer with the decidedly departed Samuel the prophet. My visitation was by someone who possessed similar powers, but arrived at my door with an awareness, a foreshadowing if you will, of my needs and desires.

Such is the nature of such an encounter that it is accompanied with shock, surprise, pleasure, and apprehension. Yet, I found that the pleasure and surprise outweighed the shock and apprehension and I found myself enraptured by the enchantment of the moment. Unlike King Saul, my experience was longer lasting but similarly memorable.

She has now long since departed, but the aftermath persists. King Saul came specifically purposed to consult with Samuel, but I possessed no pretense in my encounter. The spirit she summoned during my visitation was not a deceased prophet or soothsayer, but was instead… me; and I find that I have been haunting myself since her departure.

1 1 Samuel 28: 8-25

The Haunting
A ghost from before appeared at my door
Triggering memories that pierced to my core
And as resolve crumbled among thoughts uncontrolled
My heart once more ope’d to that specter of old.

The years had been brutal to that visage now scarred
With piercings and tats that left beauty marred
Poor judgment and choices in that face once so fair
Now mute testimony beyond human repair.

And so we conversed re our union now dead
And I lade her with gifts from the past that she fled
Thoughts that she shared caused my ardor to fade
Reminders of words and of vows now betrayed.

The ghost then receded to mists of the past
Leaving memories only in shadows now cast
Promises made as she left on that day
Promises broken as was always her way.

What does Forgiveness Look Like?

Addressing an issue from the past, someone suggested that I had never really forgiven them. My response of “yes, I have” seemed inadequate, so I thought it important to explore further. I realized, then, that I did not actually know what forgiveness looks like. My simplistic assumption was that forgiveness was simply not holding someone to account for past transgressions. Not revisiting the pain or the shock of past events, while looking forward with a clean slate. But for better or worse events and actions of the past, good or bad, are part of our story and belongs to both of us. So, it belongs to both of us to tell, but with grace not to hurt or injure, but to recall and perhaps from which to grow.

I then look to the forgiveness of God… of the sacrifice of Jesus. I know that my sins are forgiven – were forgiven before I committed them, through the sacrifice of Jesus. We are told that it is the blood of Jesus that washes away our sins. I’ve sang the hymns about a fountain filled with blood and heard countless sermons regarding the power of the blood. But how might I forgive someone else? How might I be forgiven by those (too many I’m sorry to admit) that I have wronged. I can’t follow God’s model, as bloodletting would be too creepy and not be appreciated by anyone. I then consider the passage where we are told that God casts our sins into the deepest sea.1  As far as my family is concerned, we’re not remarkable swimmers, but we are proficient deep-sea divers as far as the wrongs of others are concerned.

So, if I remember, how do I forgive? I believe God’s example is simpler than we realize. It’s not the spilling of blood that forgives sin, but the love that inspires that sacrifice. Like God’s sacrifice, it must be offered and accepted by both parties. The Bible tells us that if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.2 Similarly, we are told to confess our sins one to another.3 Such is our earthly forgiveness. We respond to one another with love in answer to our confessions. It doesn’t change our histories; it doesn’t remove the scar; but instead, it cleanses the reality of consequences with love – love that doesn’t weaponize the past nor rewrite the narrative. Forgiveness is a mutual endeavor in terms of both giving and receiving.

So, revisiting the question of the first paragraph – yes, I have forgiven. I deeply love the person to whom I gave that forgiveness and it remains my prayer that they can accept it – and extend their forgiveness to me.

1 Micah 7:19 He will turn again, he will have compassion upon us; he will subdue our iniquities; and thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.

2 1 John 1:9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

3 James 5:16 Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed.

At Least I Didn’t Choose Job…

There is a temptation (a prideful one in my case) to draw parallels between your life and the experiences of characters in the Bible. I confess to having had these tendencies, but I realize now that I have to step back and resume my role as a humble ant skittering across the surface of God’s creation. That said, I am not Hosea. God never asked me to marry a woman of easy virtue, nor did he tell me to repeatedly overlook / forgive her infidelities. The choices I made were mine, shaped not by pious devotion but rather by love. Love, they say, is blind. I never gave too much thought to that aphorism, but I now can correlate it with the reference in I Corinthians 13 where Paul notes that “now we see through a glass darkly”. What I saw is what I wanted to see, allowing my desires to shape the vague shadows into a clear vision of perfection. I will never cease to love that person – deeply and irrevocably, but I have slowly come to terms with the truth and the reality that the person I loved so dearly never actually existed.

Yet, thanks be to God for the gift of the limited clarity I now enjoy. I can say with some certainty that the reality which was thrust upon me by events has allowed me to arrive at a place of liberation, unbridled by false illusions cloaked in pain. Even with illusions so dispelled, I can comfortably treasure the memories and recollections that include that person I loved so dearly. I recall having once been counseled that divorce is like a death, which I countered by suggesting that it was worse than death, as in the case of divorce the dearly departed didn’t have the decency to be dead. In my case, though, I now see the wisdom of that comparison, as the person whom I loved and thought I’d lost never really existed. Like an imaginary friend from childhood, she is gone; leaving memories only of a relationship that was shaped by love and shattered by reality.

So, how does one forge a path into a new relationship? Having taken tentative steps, I find myself self-sabotaging by looking for a person who is like the former, all the while forgetting that my recollection of that person is not true. Like looking for a new friend, just as real as the imaginary friend you had before, it does not promise to be a successful endeavor. Seeing the truth, though, is liberating. I don’t have to imagine a parallel with Hosea, meaning I can release my Gomer and move on with my life. I have always said that I can have any woman that I please, so here’s to hoping that I can please one more. God is good and God is faithful. God breaks chains, but it is our responsibility to walk away from our captivity.

Waiting for a Better Moses?

A judge once told me that I have a “gift for the obvious”. Although he meant it as a slight (he was always a bit of an ass), I’ve remembered it and have come to claim his assessment as a positive trait. When I started this blog, my goal was to limit my entries to those related to my journey of faith and pointedly avoid any political commentary. However, the Holy Spirit keeps reminding me of the words of the Apostle Paul when he said “we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places”1. I’ve always interpreted that verse as referencing powers beyond our world, but I have come to understand that the “spiritual wickedness” can be present in those who play an ongoing role in our daily lives. Much of my enlightenment I attribute to the guidance of the Holy Spirit. But also I have to acknowledge the influence of those in the media such as Dennis Prager and Bill O’Reilly. The latter openly states that our government is corrupt, but as an objective journalist hopes for the best as our nation circles the drain. Perhaps most, I have to be grateful and thankful to God for my “gift for the obvious”.

So, employing my gift, let’s review the obvious.

Moses was a seriously flawed man. A murderer no less. When he came to deliver the Israelites out of Egypt, many distrusted him, many did not want to be delivered – and certainly not by a man like him. The children of Israel came into Egypt under the protection of Joseph, an Israelite himself and whom God had placed in authority in Egypt, second only to Pharaoh. The Israelites came into Egypt as a free people and their freedoms were protected. We are not told of the slippery slope they went down, but we next see that Egypt’s memory of Joseph was forgotten and the Israelites are now slaves in Egypt. Perhaps they were willing to give up their liberty for the promise of food and housing.  Perhaps laws were put into place to ensure the Israelites safety from the tyranny of the unknown. Perhaps their leaders protested the erosion of their freedoms and were imprisoned or killed for insurrection against Pharaoh. Those details are not shared with us. However, the history of slavery has taught us that the cruelty of enslavement is not the same for all of those who experience it. On the lowest level, we find those who are constantly under the lash. At the highest level, we find those who are granted privileges and prerogatives. These often are afforded the freedom to make decisions about those beneath them and frequently wield the lash themselves.  Perhaps the higher-ranking slaves were chosen by those beneath them to foster the illusion of self-determination. These were people in need of a deliverer, though not all could see this. And what of the taskmasters and overseers? Surely, they saw the growing unrest and dissatisfaction and cunningly sought to identify some PC (Pharaoh’s choice) individuals in whom the Israelites could place their hope and trust.

Today, many Americans would say that we are in need of a deliverer. We were a free people, having shaken off the yoke of foreign domination and established a new nation on a new continent. Are we still a free nation? If not, when did our freedoms begin to erode?  The Civil War represents a turning point. It has been characterized as the war between the states and the war to free the slaves. Remember, though, that history is written by the victors. It could be more aptly characterized as a war against the states, or a war to redefine and broaden slavery. Setting aside the abomination of slavery as it existed before the Civil War, we would repeatedly congratulate ourselves as being a free nation with a government existing by consent of the governed. In 1860, though, many people by and through their state governments withdrew their consent. This was not acceptable, though, to the federal government. Indeed, the federal authorities viewed the union as a one-way affair – you could check-in, but you couldn’t check out. So, the federal government conscripted an army from the remaining states to compel consent by force.

In the 20th century we’ve seen a further erosion of our freedoms. We have a national police force, founded by a corrupt transvestite, which now casts a jaundiced eye on anyone who too openly diverges from the government-approved narrative. We have a judicial system that conspires with the executive branch to quash dissent and imprison anyone who questions government-sanctioned corruption. We have a legislative branch that functions primarily to protect its power and enrich its members. Anyone not aspiring to or currently wetting their beaks in this trough of corruption would agree that we need a deliverer. In response to the discontent of our people, our Constitution affords us the opportunity to select a new leader for the federal government. We are provided with a slate of PC (politically correct) candidates to choose from, and there is little concern regarding the choices we might make since nothing will change.

But in 2016, something happened. A candidate came on the scene who was not PC, but was deemed so outrageous that he was given media attention and praise to ensure that the PC selection would have an easy path to victory. But those in power failed to see that although Donald Trump was a seriously flawed man, a narcissist, an adulterer; these were not disqualifying to a people hungry for change. They were confident that he would be dismissed as completely unacceptable, once they focused their media machine against him. What they failed to understand was that the people did not like where they were, and were looking for someone to take them out, to deliver them, from their situation. They didn’t grasp that when people are looking for a bus, the past failings of the driver are largely irrelevant.

But perhaps there is a better Moses waiting in the wings. Perhaps if we wait we will find a more acceptable alternative. I’m sure our vote will not be diluted or negated by the millions being invited in. It is a cause for prayer, and for the comforting truth that times are unfolding according to God’s plan. Having read ahead to the end of the book, I’m comfortable with the outcome. Meanwhile… the door is opening and I can hear the driver calling All Aboard!

1 Ephesians 6:12 For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

The Journeys Toward Life and Death

My wife miscarried early in her first pregnancy. This was a tragedy. My sister delivered a stillborn full-term baby girl. This, too, was a tragedy. Tears were shed after each, but the magnitude of my sister’s loss was comparatively far greater than that experienced by my wife and I.

I don’t know what lives either of those children might have led, but I sometimes imagine how our lives and the world might have been changed had their promise and blessing been fulfilled. Their journeys to life, though, were interrupted for reasons known only to God. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord… and blessed be new life with all of the hope and promise of the future. New life comes to us at the conclusion of a spectrum of blessing that begins with conception and is fulfilled with the delivery of that new life into the world. For some though, that journey can rapidly change to a spectrum of tragedy with a new life being aborted. Not by a doctor or any human intervention, but rather by the unknowable will of God.

Regardless of whether you walk in the Light and Life of Christ and accept His gift of salvation, or whether you follow another path, our time on this plane of existence was never promised to be easy. Similarly, the journey to life is often echoed by the journey to death that many of us have witnessed and may experience. As disease and decay take their toll, the body begins its inexorable decline until it can no longer accommodate your spirit. It represents a spectrum of hope for those who have trusted Jesus, and a spectrum of tragedy for those who haven’t. In either case, it is ended by the unknowable will of God.

Secularists would remove God from the equation, suggesting that it is simply letting nature run its course. In doing so, they allow themselves the liberty to intervene in nature’s progress so as to exercise their will in lieu of that of a higher authority. This changes each of these spectra to a spectrum of horror. The magnitude of the horror swells or ebbs at the time chosen for intervention. Intervening on the day after conception is a far lesser magnitude of evil than intervening on the day of delivery. Intervening on the day after diagnosis of a terminal illness is a far greater magnitude of evil than intervening on the day life is slipping away. You see, the horror grows when intervention comes closer to the fullness of life. Horror takes the place of tragedy when evil acts presage the abortion of life. And with the horror comes guilt.

Remember always that no depravity that man commits surprises God, though I am certain that our choices often grieve His heart. Remember that at the time of the crucifixion of Christ there was only one person alive on the earth. Everyone else was dead in sin and trespasses. The depravity of man in killing this one man, Jesus, overshadows everything we had done before or since. But in killing this one man, we washed ourselves in His innocent blood and bought our deliverance from all our depravities.

We live in a fallen world, though in a world imbued with hope for a coming and brighter day. I cling to that hope, and so it is that I pray that we would zealously guard the spectrum of blessing that is fulfilled in new life; despite the possibility of tragedy that it holds. It is why I also cling to the spectrum of hope as old life ebbs. I would not allow my will to supersede the will of God and I condemn the hubris of anyone else that would so presume. For those who would create or defend a spectrum of horror, I pray that their consciences would be pricked to limit their interventions to when the magnitude of the impact of their evil act is least. I take solace in knowing that nothing can thwart the will of God and that He will judge evil.

Curating the Gallery

Even as we move forward in our lives, it is important that we look back occasionally as the past and our understanding of it establishes our trajectory moving forward. In my own life, I realize that I’ve fashioned my own private gallery wherein I’ve framed the events and vignettes in a manner most conducive to justifying where I am and why I am the man I am in the moment.

Shakespeare wrote that “the evils that men do live after them; the good is oft interred with their bones”. So it has been with my gallery. I had an entire wing dedicated to the wrongs that I’d suffered, the injustices, the slights. I could stand in front of each and marvel at the evil displayed with a subconscious sense of pride for how well I had fashioned the frame in which I displayed them.

Enter the Holy Spirit. No one else enters my gallery but I, but the Holy Spirit insisted that I share this part of my heart with Him as well. I confess to being ashamed at the revelation of my handiwork, as it did not comport in any real sense with the handiwork He is working in me. So, it has been that I’ve spent no small amount of time curating my gallery – breaking frames, relegating some works to the ash heap and re-framing others in the context of gratitude.

The Bible tells us that all things work together for good to them that love God and are called according to His purpose1. For me, being called according to His purpose is not to presume that I am another Moses or a prophet, but rather just another sheep responding to the Shepherd’s call. In understanding that, I understand that I am precisely where God wants me. In understanding that, too, I understand that everything in my life has worked to deliver me to this moment and I am grateful. It doesn’t matter the intentions of others, what matters is God’s purpose. Even when I had strayed, God was there. Jesus suffered immeasurable pain and suffering because of my repeated stumbles and misdeeds. If He doesn’t hold a grudge, how can I?

And so it is that I add one more shingle to my resume. I am also a curator. As I walk the halls of my gallery, I watch for those pieces shaped and purposed by the Artist of all creation, while I keep an eye out for those fashioned by the con artist that had previously dominated the collection. The collection is thinning, but the theme is becoming ever more explicit – God is great in His mercy and His grace.

1 Romans 8:28 And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

Schrödinger’s Cancer

I recently completed 6 weeks of radiation to treat a cancer that was supposed to have been resolved with the removal of my prostate. The surgery had already dashed one of my life’s goals – to exit this world with all the parts with which I arrived. Notwithstanding, it seemed a prudent decision so as to forestall an early departure. But I digress. With the completion of the radiation, I am now in a nether world of uncertainty. I return to the doctor at the end of next month at which time I will learn whether or not I still have cancer. I’ve referred to my present state with my daughter as Schrödinger’s cancer because, like the cat he postulated, the present state of my cancer will be unknown until viewed. If, like the cat, viewing affects the result, I strive to remain positive in hope of gaining a positive result, though I don’t recall a positive attitude playing any role in quantum mechanics.

The challenge for me in doing this is that I am not entirely certain I either want a positive outcome or if I believe that more time on this earth is God’s will for me. Life has always been a tenuous affair – amazing in the miracle of its existence and frightening in the reality of its fragility. That the mutation of one gene can result in such extraordinary changes boggles my mind. I reflect on this when I consider the miracles that Jesus performed during his earthly ministry. When he directed the man with the withered hand to extend it and then made it whole like the other, what was happening? I don’t believe that Jesus considered bone structure, tendons, arteries, veins, and capillaries while healing this man, but yet all of these were healed. When Jesus raised Lazarus from death, He not only addressed the cause of Lazarus’ death, but also the decomposition that followed. When God created man, He created him whole. He didn’t first draft instructions and then put us together like a model kit – Hmmmm, Let’s see… I’ll add the arms later… No, He created us whole and complete.

I’ve often wondered about Lazarus, post-resurrection. I am confident that if he previously had a limp, he no longer did. If he had lost a finger in a threshing accident, the finger was restored. Jesus was the Great Physician – He did not treat symptoms, He restored. Jesus did not say “I think I can make it better”, He made it new. He healed the lame – they did not hobble away with their miracle, they walked, ran, or danced away. He healed the blind – they did not squint and struggle to find their way home, they went boldly with clear vision.

As I consider this, my mind selfishly wanders back to my own situation. Jesus could heal me. In fact, He already may have healed me. But His purpose in performing the miracles He did during his earthly ministry was to bear witness as to who He was, not to preserve flesh. Jesus told us that God is a Spirit and must be worshipped in spirit1. So, as we strenuously cling to the flesh that shrouds our spirits, it is important to remember that God places us here in this world for a season, and that season is in furtherance of His purpose. Just as I wouldn’t pray that God stay Summer and Winter that I might enjoy a longer Spring, so I wouldn’t ask for more days than he has willed for me. When Job said “though He slay me, yet will I trust Him”2, that was a statement of total submission and certainty that God would preserve and deliver him beyond the confines of his earthly body.

So, regardless of the result I may experience, I praise God and thank Him for His goodness and mercy to me. My positive attitude rests in the certainty that His will shall be done, regardless of the outcome.

1 John 4:24  God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.

2 Job 13:15 Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him: but I will maintain mine own ways before him.

Making Common Cause with Christ

WWJD? A clever acronym for the question “What would Jesus do?” that suggests that we might possess some insight as to what Jesus would do in a particular circumstance. In asking the question, it allows us to exercise the presumption of settling our posteriors into Christ’s judgment seat and pontificating. The question “What would Jesus do?” cannot be answered. Instead, we answer the question with what we would do if we were Jesus. Spoiler alert – If we were Jesus there would be no salvation, no atoning sacrifice, no hope. I’m grateful that I’m not Jesus, and doubly so that you’re not.

A better question to ask ourselves when facing quandaries in our lives is to ask “What did Jesus do?” – WDJD. Should someone inquire about your views on abortion, homosexuality, premarital sex, adultery, or the panoply of ways in which we stumble, we would do well to remember what Jesus did. Jesus loved. He loved sinners – indeed He found a closer connection to them than He did to those who judged themselves righteous. Why? Because flawed though they were, they saw within themselves the hunger that only He could satisfy. The Pharisees asked his disciples why Jesus dined with publicans and sinners1, the obvious answer was that the sinners welcomed Him in.

What would you imagine dining with Jesus would be like? Do you think He spent the meal lecturing them about how sinful they were? Does the Holy Spirit do that to you? Jesus described the Holy Ghost as the “Comforter” – not the Convicter or the Condemner2. I suspect that Jesus was very much a comforter in his meals with sinners.  He shared freely of Himself, taught, and encouraged. Do we do the same with those that we encounter? Is our church welcoming? If our churches are to be hospitals for sinners, what is our emergency room like? Modern hospitals are models of cleanliness and order, but the emergency room is where you find those who are often bloodied and battered in desperate need of care. My last visit, predicated by a fall from a ladder, was typical. They quickly assessed the extent of my needs and treated me accordingly. They did not admonish me for my clumsiness or carelessness, they did not tell me I was deserving of my sad circumstance, they didn’t seek a pledge from me to stay off ladders, and they did not judge me. Instead, they cared for me and, had it been necessary, they would have made a place for me in one of their clean and orderly rooms.

Now, think of the emergency room that is your church. Is it welcoming to those who have been bloodied and battered by life? Is it a safe and welcoming place where someone can learn and heal and come to a saving knowledge of Jesus? A wise, old pastor once told me that the hardest thing he encountered in pastoring a church was to keep the old goats from killing the young lambs. One of the primary failings of the Pharisees was that they loved the law more than the Law Giver. They judged themselves righteous while condemning others. I’ve done this, too. I’ve met people whose lifestyles were outside biblical teaching and I did not share the gospel with them. In not doing so, I was in fact condemning them. They did not need me to lecture them, but simply to love them and share Jesus’ love even as it had been shared with me. Love them. Bring them home. Let the Holy Ghost work on their hearts and lead them to truth and salvation. Be a source of comfort and guidance, but only so far as they seek it from you. Don’t worry about what Jesus would do, but simply do what Jesus did.  

1 Mark 2:16 And when the scribes and Pharisees saw him eat with publicans and sinners, they said unto his disciples, How is it that he eateth and drinketh with publicans and sinners?

2 John 14: 26 But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.

Go-o-o-o-llee!

Go-o-o-o-llee is probably the first thing that strikes us when we hear the name Gomer. Who could forget the eponymous personification of innocence as portrayed by Jim Nabors. Wide-eyed and amazed at the world around him… He never seemed to lose his innocence. But there is a Gomer we don’t too often think of who is introduced to us in the Old Testament book of Hosea. This Gomer was not a wide-eyed innocent, but was rather a jaundiced-eyed, worldly-wise woman. Her faithfulness was fleeting and she was, in the vernacular of a more circumspect time, a woman of easy virtue.

God instructed Hosea to marry her and to seek her out and bring her back when she strayed. This was at a physical and emotional cost to Hosea, but God wanted to illustrate how He loved His people and how they responded. As we think of Gomer, we can perhaps imagine how she looked. Our preconceptions may illuminate our minds with the image of a woman who was alluring and seductive and desired by countless men; or we may see the image of a woman who is tired and fading who has traded on her charms for too long and has little stock in trade remaining. Both views are comforting, as they paint a picture far removed from our lives. There is a way, though, that we may know exactly what she looked like. Gaze into the mirror hanging on your wall, and there she is.

You may protest that you are not like her. Of course you’ve had your failings, but they’re outweighed by the positives. In doing this, you join the rest of us in excusing ourselves based on the imagined gravity of action. You see, it is not a scale that we must balance (the ancient Egyptians believed this). It is instead, if you will, a matter of geography. Imagine a map, with a big star in the middle saying God is here. Now where are you on that map? Wherever you are on that map, if you’re not with God, you have strayed just as Gomer did. We focus on the scenery in Gomer’s tableau, and fail to grasp that it isn’t where she is that is the issue, but where she isn’t. She’s not with God. If Sunday dawns beautifully and you invest your time at the golf course, or if the weather is miserable so you stay in – the issue isn’t where you are but where you are not. This map is not just geographical, it is emotional and spiritual as well.

Jesus is the Good Shepherd. His sheep know Him and follow Him. If even one should stray, He will seek it and bring it back. But notice His focus! It isn’t on where the sheep was, but where the sheep should be. If you are following Him, where you were when He found you is meaningless to Him. It should be meaningless to us, too. Go-o-o-o-llee! His grace is good.