Love In A Broken Vessel (41 page)

• H
OSEA
2:21–22 •

“On that day I will answer your prayers,” declares Yahweh. . . . “The earth will produce grain, new wine, and olive oil. You will produce many crops, Jezreel.”

Y
ou’ll be all right, Daughter.” It was the third time Yuval had assured her, and Gomer was beginning to think her friend was the one who needed consoling. “Remember, Hosea said he’d visit you every day, which means he’ll choose a place less than a morning’s walk from the camp, right?” She glanced at Hosea. “You’re going to choose a place close to camp, aren’t you?”

Hosea kissed her cheek. “Yuval, we need to go before we lose more daylight. I don’t know where Yahweh will lead us, but we know we can trust Him.” He lifted chastising brows. “Don’t
we
?”

“Of course we trust Yahweh.” She waved away the question. “It’s
you
who must get things right.”

Yuval’s lighthearted dig lifted the boulder-sized weight of fear from Gomer’s chest. Her long, frightening days of wilderness wandering and prowling jackals still plagued her dreams. Yuval hugged her for the fourth time. “You’ll be all right.”

“Yuval.” Hosea’s patience had worn thin. “Micah is waiting.”

Her eyes grew weepy. “I love you both. Be careful.” She hugged Hosea and turned to catch up to the young man at the top of the hill. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Hosea looked at Gomer, offered his hand. “Are you ready?”

Her heart pounded, and the boulder rolled back onto her chest. “I’m trying to be ready.” Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his, and he kissed it before cradling it to his heart.

They left the road and began wandering east into the wilderness, her fear growing with every step. She glanced at Hosea and found a contented expression fixed on his face.

“How can you be so calm?” she asked, thoroughly confounded. “Do you know where you’re taking me?”

“No.” He kept walking, maintaining that silly grin.

“And another thing. Have you given a moment’s thought to how our children will feel about me?”

He kissed her hand again and stopped walking. “I’ve thought of a lot of things, and I want to talk about all of them, but we don’t have to decide everything this moment. We simply have to walk in the direction Yahweh leads us.” He kissed her lightly and then combed his fingers through her hair. “Shall we walk some more?”

She was breathless again. This time it wasn’t a boulder on her chest. It was this man who pricked her heart. Nodding, she leaned into him, trying—for the first time ever—to let someone else worry about her tomorrow.

“Hosea, it was reckless and cruel. What were you thinking? To leave your wife in the wilderness without weapons to defend herself or any kind of supplies if something should prevent you from providing? It’s irresponsible! Unconscionable!”

Hosea released an exhausted sigh. He’d returned just after nightfall from a four-day excursion to deliver Gomer to her
wilderness cave. All in all, a successful journey. They’d remained chaste as Yahweh had commanded—a miracle on the order of Moses’s parting the Red Sea. But he’d walked over a half day’s journey from her cave to the camp, which meant he’d need to leave before dawn to deliver her supplies and return by nightfall. The commitment to see her every day and supply her needs would be no small endeavor.

“Amos, my friend, I’m not the only one who saw the viper. Micah and Yuval—”

“Don’t you dare try to shift blame for a decision you made! If you’re going to be the leading prophet in this camp, you’re going to have to—”

“Amos, enough!” Hosea shouted at his teacher, causing both Amos and Yuval to gasp. “I’m sorry, but you’re not listening to me. I started to say that Micah and Yuval saw Yahweh’s signs as clearly as I did. There was no doubt that I was to lead Gomer into the wilderness to woo her. If you have issues with Yahweh’s methods, yell at Him.”

Yuval laid her hand on Hosea’s shoulder and spoke quietly to her husband. “I felt the wind of Yahweh’s presence when Hosea received the message of Gomer’s wooing, dear. I think we know the son of our hearts well enough to believe he knows Yahweh’s voice.”

The old curmudgeon’s voice settled to a growl. “But what are you going to tell your children, Hosea? When Yuval returned without you, they were terrified. We assured them you were coming back but told them nothing of Gomer. How are you going to explain you’re hiding their ima in a cave?”

Hosea pressed his thumbs into his eyes, counting to ten before speaking. “I’ll tell them their ima is coming back, but she must learn of Yahweh before she can love them as she wants to love them. It’s the truth, Amos. I’ll tell them the truth.”

The old man pressed his lips into a thin, hard line. “It’s your version of the truth. What if Gomer flees? What if you return to the cave one day and she’s gone?”

“Then I’ll obey Yahweh’s next command.” He slapped his
knees, pushing himself to his feet. “I’m going to gather my children and thank Isaiah and Aya for being such wonderful caregivers.”

“The children miss you,” Yuval said. “They’ll be glad to see you.”

Hosea’s arms ached to hold them. He bent to kiss his teacher’s forehead and whispered, “I’m sorry I shouted.”

Amos grabbed his hand as he was rising. “I’m sorry I made you shout to be heard.”

Hosea slipped out the door and through their courtyard, then onto the main path toward his neighbor’s house. He passed his own courtyard first, and the dark, deserted house called him to rest, but he resisted.

Moonlight through sycamore boughs cast jagged shadows across what used to be Jonah’s house, now Micah’s. Times changed. People changed. He thought of Jonah weakening unto death and Micah’s youthful, lithe frame. Life was an endless cycle of adjustments, some easier than others.

He pushed through the next courtyard gate, knocked, and opened the front door. “Shalom the house!”

“Abba, you came back!” Rahmy, his little princess, skittered across the room to greet him, arms upraised.

He hoisted her into his arms and buried his beard in her neck amid giggles and squeals. “Abba always comes back,” he said, pondering the similarities between his daughter and his wife. Rahmy’s bright red hair framed her face in ringlets, and she constantly challenged Aya’s authority. But she was perhaps the most compassionate of his children, nurturing her brothers and loving each one for who he was.

Ammi approached, his fists pummeling alternating punches on Hosea’s right thigh.

“Greetings, my little soldier, and who are we fighting today?” Hosea asked. Ammi was a born warrior—Hananiah would have been proud had he not been such an arrogant fool.

“I’m killing Philistines,” he declared proudly, “like King Uzziah!”

“There will be no killing in this house!” Aya chastised from where she stood at the worktable, kneading tomorrow’s barley bread. A smile and wink told Hosea her words were a familiar refrain. “How are you, my friend?” she asked, pushing a stray lock of hair off her forehead as she continued her task. A swaddled infant lay on the table beside her, fussing.

“I would say I’m tired, but after seeing what you must do each day—I’d be ashamed to admit it.”

They both chuckled. She nodded in Isaiah’s direction, where he sat near the oven with Jezzy tucked beneath a protective arm while their own toddling son played quietly with wooden blocks. Hosea planted Rahmy on the floor, and her little brother immediately considered her a Philistine. War began, and Aya became the commander.

“Where’s Saba Amoz this evening?” Hosea asked Isaiah, trying for a casual conversation before engaging his sulking son.

“Would you like to tell your abba where Saba Amoz is, Jezzy?” Isaiah coaxed. A silent head shake was the only answer. “Well, Saba Amoz is where you might imagine him to be.”

“The pottery shop,” Hosea said with a smile. He folded his legs and sat beside Jezreel. “So is that why you’re sad? Do you miss Saba Amoz?”

He lifted round, tear-filled eyes. “He’s not really my saba, you know.”

Hosea exchanged a glance with Isaiah. “Yes, I know, but we’ve talked about this. Amoz, Isaiah, and Aya love you the same as if they were family of our blood. And so do Saba Amos and Savta Yuval.”

Giant droplets fell onto the boy’s cheeks. “Some of the shepherd boys made fun of me today.” He buried his head in Isaiah’s chest.

“They said Jezzy is like a tree with no roots because his abba is always gone and he has no ima.” Isaiah must have seen
the effect of the words on Hosea. He placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Children can be cruel. We must use these moments to teach Jezzy where his roots should be planted.”

Hosea knew he was right, but everything inside him wanted to find those shepherd boys and take a rod to them—and to their parents. For surely children didn’t create such a finely crafted image. A tree with no roots, indeed.

“Come here, Jezzy.”

His son flew into his arms, choking him with a hug. “I love you, Abba. I don’t care what they say. You’re my root.”

He held him tightly, whispering, “I love you so much, Jezreel.” The boy spent his tears and then sat between the two men. “You’ll be a man soon, so I believe it’s time you knew some things about your ima and me.”

“Hosea!” Aya’s caution came from behind him.

Hosea lifted his hand to silence her and continued. “Your ima
may
come home to us.”

“What?” Jezzy bounced on the rug between them, his smile instant. “She’s coming home?”

Hosea laid a quieting hand on his son’s knee. “Jezreel, you’re not a little child. You must listen with your intellect, not your emotion.”

Jezzy looked befuddled. “Listen with my what? I thought I listened with my ears.”

Isaiah tried to hide a smile but failed miserably.

“You must listen to my words—all of them—and not let your heart get in the way. I said your ima
may
come back, meaning she
might
. If she can hear Yahweh speak to her heart.”

All joy fled Jezzy’s face. “Ima doesn’t like Yahweh. I don’t remember much about her, but I remember the day you said she rejected Yahweh.” He looked at Isaiah and then back to Hosea. “I believe Yahweh is good and His ways are right, but I’ve never heard Him speak. How can Ima hear Him when she has rejected Him?”

Hosea swallowed the lump in his throat. “We pray, Jezzy.”

“I’ve been praying, Abba, but I don’t think Yahweh hears me. I only hear silence when I pray.”

Isaiah wiped his hand down the length of his face, raised his eyebrows, and stared at Hosea as if to say,
Answer that, teacher of prophets!

Hosea wished Yuval was in the room.
What do I say, Lord?

As his prayer ascended, Yahweh’s gentle wind blew through the house, stirring the flames on each lamp.

“Abba, it’s windy in the house!” Jezzy’s eyes were as round as Aya’s cooking pot.

On that day I will answer your prayers
, Yahweh declared.
I will speak to the sky, and it will speak to the earth, and the earth will produce grain, new wine, and olive oil. You will produce many crops, Jezreel. I will plant My people in the land. Those who are not loved I will call My loved ones. Those who are not My people I will call My people. Then they will say, “You are our Elohim!”

Hosea looked at the others, expecting them to have heard.

But Jezzy began to cry and scooted toward Isaiah, fear etched on his face. Isaiah gathered him close. “I think your abba just heard Yahweh’s voice, but we all felt the wind of His presence.”

Hosea held out his hands, inviting his son closer. After only a moment’s hesitation, Jezzy snuggled in, still trembling. “Yahweh speaks to each person in a different way,” Hosea explained, “and even in different ways to a single person. Our Elohim is so big and creative, He can think of lots of ways to talk to us. That was Him! A breeze in the house!”

Jezzy sat up, eyes sparkling now. “That was amazing!” He wriggled from his abba’s grasp and sat between the men again.

“Yahweh revealed Himself to your ima several times. Once when Ammi was born, and a few other times.”

“Did He come to Ima when I was born?”

Hosea’s heart broke. Someday he would tell his son the full story of his name and the prophecy’s meaning. Not today.
“No, but Yahweh spoke of you just now. Would you like to know what He said?”

He nodded, enthralled, no longer seeming afraid. “Yes! Can you still remember?”

Hosea chuckled. “I do remember! Yahweh gives His prophets the ability to hear and remember His words exactly. But first I must ask you a question. Do you know what work you’d like to do when you become a man?”

The boy glanced at Isaiah, silently questioning.

“Tell your abba,” Isaiah coaxed.

Jezzy kept his head bowed, peeking out from a fringe of curly bangs. “I told Isaiah yesterday, but I was afraid you’d be disappointed. I want to be a farmer like Saba Amos, working the soil and tending the groves.”

Hosea barely held back tears. “I’m not disappointed at all, and I think you’ll realize Yahweh hears your prayers when you hear His message about you: ‘On that day I will answer your prayers,’ Yahweh declared. ‘I will speak to the sky, and it will speak to the earth, and the earth will produce grain, new wine, and olive oil. You will produce many crops, Jezreel. I will plant My people in the land.’”