A Day in the Life
“The Lord said to me, ‘Go again, love a woman who is loved by a lover and is committing adultery, just like the love of the Lord for the children of Israel.’” — Hosea 3:1a
There are days in the life of God’s people when we are forced to confront a love that does not make human sense. Hosea’s story is one of those days. When I read Hosea 3, I do not merely see an Old Testament prophet obeying a difficult command; I see a living parable of the heart of Jesus. God told Hosea to love a woman who had betrayed him, to marry her, to cherish her, and then—after she abandoned him—to buy her back. The Hebrew verb for “love” here, ’ahav, speaks not of fleeting affection but covenant devotion. This was not sentimental romance; it was chosen loyalty in the face of humiliation.
Hosea was righteous. Gomer was unfaithful. Yet the scandal of the story is not her sin; it is his obedience. She wandered. She traded dignity for desire. She was used and eventually sold into slavery. Then came the command that stretches our theology and our emotions: “Go and buy her back.” The price Hosea paid was not merely silver; it was his pride, his wounded heart, his reputation. As one commentator notes, “Hosea’s marriage was a sermon before it was a book.” His life became the message.
When I step into this story, I realize that it is not merely ancient history. It is a mirror. Israel’s idolatry is described as adultery because covenant with God is relational, not mechanical. The Hebrew word berith—covenant—implies binding faithfulness. To chase other gods was not simply theological error; it was personal betrayal. And if I am honest, I have known seasons where my affections were divided. I may not bow to carved idols, but I can give my loyalty to ambition, comfort, approval, or distraction. Hosea’s story forces me to ask: Where have I grown dissatisfied with the faithful love of God?
Yet here is the astonishing truth. God’s love does not collapse when confronted with our unfaithfulness. It pursues. It pays. It restores. The apostle Paul echoes this same heartbeat in Romans 5:8: “But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” The Greek word for demonstrates, synistēsin, means to prove decisively. At the cross, Christ did what Hosea foreshadowed. He did not merely invite us back; He purchased us. As 1 Peter 1:18–19 declares, “You were not redeemed with corruptible things, like silver or gold… but with the precious blood of Christ.” The word redeemed, lytroō, carries the image of buying a slave out of bondage. Hosea paid with silver; Jesus paid with His life.
C.S. Lewis once wrote, “Though our feelings come and go, God’s love for us does not.” That is not poetic exaggeration; it is biblical reality. God’s love is not reactive. It is steadfast. It is what the Old Testament repeatedly calls chesed—covenant mercy that refuses to let go. Even when Gomer walked away, Hosea’s love did not evaporate. Even when Israel turned to idols, God did not abandon His redemptive plan. Even when I wander, He remains faithful.
There is something deeply personal in the phrase “Go again.” God did not tell Hosea to love once and be done. He said, “Go again.” That small word exposes the rhythm of divine grace. God’s love is relentless not because we deserve repeated chances, but because His character is faithful. The prophet’s obedience reflects the persistence of the Lord. In the life of Jesus, we see this same persistence. He ate with sinners again. He restored Peter again. He sought the lost again. He did not love selectively; He loved steadfastly.
The pain of betrayal in Hosea is real. God does not minimize the hurt of our rebellion. Idolatry wounds the heart of God because relationship is at stake. But astonishingly, our failure does not cancel His pursuit. As theologian J.I. Packer observed in Knowing God, “There is tremendous relief in knowing that His love to me is utterly realistic.” God sees the worst and still chooses to redeem. That is not naïve affection; it is sovereign grace.
Today, as I reflect on this “day in the life” of God’s redemptive story, I am invited to internalize two truths. First, I am Gomer before I am Hosea. I am the one bought back. My discipleship begins not with heroic obedience but with humbled gratitude. Second, I am called to reflect that relentless love in my own relationships. When forgiveness feels costly, when reconciliation feels humiliating, when loyalty feels undeserved, Hosea’s obedience whispers that covenant love is rarely convenient. It is chosen.
If you would like to explore further how Hosea reveals the heart of God’s pursuing love, The Gospel Coalition offers an insightful overview of the book’s redemptive message at https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/. Their theological reflections highlight how Hosea ultimately points to Christ’s sacrificial redemption.
Relentless love is not sentimental. It is costly, covenantal, and courageous. It follows the wandering spouse, the stubborn nation, and the distracted disciple. It buys back what seems ruined. It restores dignity where shame once ruled. In the life of Jesus, that love walked dusty roads and carried a wooden cross. In my life, that love calls me home again and again.
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