You know what shook me when I was Muslim?
The story of Hosea. God tells a prophet to marry a woman He knows will betray him.
She does. She runs to other men. She ends up enslaved, sold, used up, worthless to the world.
And God tells Hosea to go BUY HER BACK.
To pay money for his own wife who cheated on him, and love her again. Hosea 3.
I thought it was the most humiliating command in the Bible. Why would any man do that?
Then I realized I was the wife.
I gave my heart to everything but God. I chased other masters. I sold myself cheap. I made myself worthless.
And God looked at me, the betrayer, and didn’t say “you’re not worth it.”
He said, “Name the price. I’m buying her back.”
That’s the Gospel. God doesn’t wait for the unfaithful to come crawling back clean.
He pays to redeem them while they’re still dirty.
Islam told me to make myself worthy of God.
Hosea showed me a God who pays to redeem the unworthy.
The cross was Him naming the price.
Praise the Lord.
I’ve been one of the camp nurses at my kids church camp the last few days. We had a teen boy come in 2 days ago with bad toe pain. Limping. He looked like he hadn’t showered or changed clothes in a few days…par for the course with teen boys at camp😅 Overweight. Awkward. Doesn’t make eye contact.
Of course I’m making all kinds of judgements and dreading taking off his shoes and socks because it’s probably going to stink to high heaven.
It does.
I told him he had a paronychia with cellulitis of the toe. I told him I needed to call his mom to get permission to treat.
“I don’t have a mom.”
😭💔
“I’m so sorry. Can I call your dad? Do you have a legal guardian?”
“You can try my dad but he won’t answer. He pours concrete and leaves for work at 1-2 am and doesn’t get home until around 5 pm.”
We clean and soak his filthy feet while we try to get ahold of someone.
He looks at another one of the nurses and quietly says: “This is the nicest anyone has ever been to me. I usually have to take care of myself.”
😭💔😭💔
I feel awful for every quick judgement I made. It’s all making sense now.
Pastor somehow gets ahold of grandma. I get permission to treat. Pastor picks up the prescription I sent and returns to camp with a pack of new socks and three new pairs of shoes that fit. The look on that boys face when we handed him the bags…I’ll never forget. He couldn’t believe it.😭
24 hours later his toe was drained, he had 4 doses of antibiotics. His pain was “so much better”. His feet were clean with clean socks and shoes that fit. He is smiling. He is making eye contact and in the clinic on time for every dose of medication.
We prayed with him and hugged him when he left today. I don’t know what will happen. The socks will get dirty again and I don’t know how or when they will be washed.
But that boy will always remember the Christians loved him well. They washed his feet. They gave him dignity. They prayed for him. They helped heal him.
When his dad wearily walks in the door from 18 hours of hard labor, he will tell him about camp. I pray he comes to know and trust the source of love, healing, mercy, and provision…Jesus Christ himself.
Sometimes the veil is thin, and it’s often in the places of humility. It seems that is how the Lord likes to work. You can’t write those moments, only God can. Praise.
Happy birthday to my wonderful son. @elonmusk has given me 55 years of joy.
It’s so much fun to celebrate with family and friends.
His cake is a rocket and a moon base 🎂🎂🎉
“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”
Romans 8:18 ESV https://t.co/Hnq7GiQL34
@ChristineBrejc1 Praying (singing?) Romans 8:26 over your daughter now.
Phil Wickham - Spirit of the Living God - NYC 2011 https://t.co/LhiNnBYTDd via @YouTube