Love In A Broken Vessel (44 page)

• 2 C
HRONICLES
29:1, 3
NIV
 •

Hezekiah was twenty-five years old when he became king. . . . In the first month of the first year of his reign, he opened the doors of the temple of the L
ORD
and repaired them.

I
ma, why are you still working?” Jezzy rushed into the pottery shop and up the loft stairs. Gomer remained bent over her workbench, trying to find an odd-shaped shard. “Isaiah and Abba are giving King Hezekiah a tour of the farm. They’re almost here.”

She kept her attention on her work, getting a little frustrated at the missing piece of her latest project. “Good! We’ll give them all aprons and put them to work. Isaiah doesn’t get to loaf just because Prince Hezekiah became king and named him foreign ambassador.”

“Ima, don’t be difficult.”

A grin stole her thunder. She loved teasing her all-too-serious son. So much like Hosea, he’d grown into a wonderful husband and abba, giving her chubby grandbabies and tending the prophets’ camp during the years of King Ahaz’s persecution. When King Jotham had died at such an
early age, he’d left his rebellious son Ahaz to reign at just twenty years old. The fiery redheaded prince had become a dangerous, idolatrous king, leading Judah into the bowels of pagan practice—child sacrifice. King Jotham’s mild aversion to Yahweh’s temple had become a burning hatred in his son, and King Ahaz showed his contempt by erecting an Assyrian altar where Yahweh’s most sacred presence once dwelt.

“So this is the house of broken vessels.” A deep, resonant voice filtered from the entrance below.

“Ima, they’re here,” Jezzy whispered through clenched teeth.

“Well, show them up, lovey.” She winked, and he rolled his eyes—and then gave her a smile.

Jezreel walked down the steps with regal grace. “Welcome, King Hezekiah, to my ima’s workshop.” She watched him bow and felt the same pride she’d known since he was a babe. He had kept Yuval’s fig trees producing and Amos’s dwarf sheep profitable, and even harvested enough from their groves to provide olive oil and wine for the families in camp. It was enough. And it was a miracle—after all the prophets had endured at the evil hand of Ahaz.

“My son flatters me.” She stood and looked over the loft railing, catching her first glimpse of Judah’s young king. “This will always be Amoz’s workshop.” She inspected Isaiah’s new royal robes, nodding a respectful bow at her longtime friend. “Welcome, King Hezekiah and Minister Isaiah. Shalom, Husband.”

Hosea bowed and winked.

“Shalom, Gomer.” Isaiah’s voice seemed weak and reedy. He and Hosea shared the teaching responsibilities, but Isaiah traveled between the palace and the camp to fulfill his new role as Judah’s foreign minister. She’d ask Aya how he was faring. “Have you found that missing piece yet?” He chuckled, and she shot him a wry grin. “I’ll send Aya to help you.”

“Greetings to the mistress potter.” The boyish sparkle
in King Hezekiah’s eyes told Gomer she liked him already. “Should I come up, or will you come down?”

“If you come up, I’ll put you to work.” Everyone laughed, and she considered making good her threat. With his stout build, she could put a shovel in his hand and he could stoke the kiln fire. “I’ll come down,” she said, descending the stairs, admiring his ivory-white, gold-trimmed robe.

Hosea extended his hand, calling her to his side. She obeyed gladly, assuming her cozy spot under his arm. “We’ve been showing our new king the prophets’ camp—what’s left of it,” he said.

“I’ve told your husband that I admire his and Isaiah’s courage. Their continued teaching will be an important part of Judah’s rebuilding process.” Hezekiah’s voice seemed both kind and sincere. “And your specialized pottery is known world round, Gomer. It’s a symbol of what our nation can become. I’m committed to refurbishing and purifying Yahweh’s temple—since Abba stripped all its gold and replaced Yahweh’s altar with that Assyrian abomination.”

Gomer left her husband’s sheltering wing to retrieve her favorite restored vase. “This was one of the first pieces Isaiah’s abba helped me refurbish. Are you familiar with the process, King Hezekiah?”

“No, but I’m interested to learn.”

She smiled, always happy to share the secrets of restoration. “We boil the bonding agent and glue the pieces together, then apply a thin glaze to seal the cracks. The glaze leaves the faint shadow of brokenness.” She captured his gaze, the emotions as fresh as they’d been the moment she first heard Yahweh’s voice. “This vase is restored, useful again. It can’t hold water, but it can store grain or become a lovely doorstop.” She chuckled at the thought.

“Judah may never be what it was in the days of David or Solomon,” Hosea said. He loved to tell this part. “But if you let Yahweh restore your nation, He’ll make it useful in eternity’s plan.” She watched the young king soak up Hosea’s
words like fresh cotton. “A wise old prophet once told me that when we’re fighting for eternal victories, we mustn’t be defeated by temporary struggles. If you prove faithful, King Hezekiah, your abba’s idolatry becomes merely a temporary struggle.”

Hezekiah’s expression grew wistful. “I wish I’d known the other great prophets. Elijah, Elisha, Jonah, and Amos. And Isaiah tells me Saba Uzziah was a faithful king before his leprosy—and became a better man after. I never heard those stories from Saba Jotham or Abba Ahaz. I was filled with terrifying images of Yahweh’s fierce wrath and then forced to watch terrible pagan rituals—things no child should see.”

Isaiah placed a hand on the young king’s shoulder. “We can always look back with regret on things in our past. My abba Amoz wasted half his life worshiping idols but discovered Yahweh’s heart through the faithful life of my wife and our family. Though I lost years with Abba because of his bitterness and regret, I watched him embrace Yahweh before he closed his eyes in death.”

Gomer offered her precious vase to the young king.

“Oh, I can’t take this,” he said. “I can see it’s very special to you.”

“It is special, but I want you to have it and remember. We’re all broken vessels, King Hezekiah. Redemption comes when we submit to Yahweh’s hands and are mended by His mercy. Only then can we be filled with His love and be poured out on the broken lives around us.”

The king grasped her hand and lifted it to his lips. “I believe you’re right, Gomer. We all carry Yahweh’s love in broken vessels.”

M
ark Twain said, “Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities. Truth isn’t.”

Perhaps this is the single reason the Bible is so unbelievable—because it is completely true. Could there ever be a more preposterous story than Hosea and Gomer—a man who forgives his harlot wife again and again and again? Yet it is true of the prophet God called hundreds of years ago to live a life that mirrored the Lord’s own love for beloved, harlot Israel. But the story isn’t just about Israel, is it? It’s our story too.

Even though we believe that the Old Testament story of Gomer and Hosea is true, how can you or I put our faith in such an unfathomable God? Why trust a God whose wrath seems harsh?

Because His love is beyond extravagant.

When people find out I write biblical fiction, the first question I’m asked is, “How much is based on Scripture, and how much is fiction?” I try to break the story down into three parts. The starting point is always the absolute truth
of Scripture. If you find anything in the story that disagrees with God’s Word, I assure you it was an oversight, not intentional disregard. The book of Hosea, however, is tricky in this respect. In his commentary
The Books of Amos and Hosea
, Harry Mowvley explains that the number of footnotes in the English-version Bible translations should give the reader an indication of the difficulty translators encountered while interpreting the original manuscripts. Different translations of Hosea’s Scriptures sometimes portray different messages.
*

That being said, I read both the New International Version and New King James Version in the early days of pondering this story. After beginning extensive research on the Canaanite pantheon of gods and the deception both Israel and Judah succumbed to because of the false concepts of El, I began studying the book of Hosea in
The Names of God Bible
, edited by Ann Spangler (Revell, 2011).

If you’re looking for a quick and meaningful synopsis of Hosea, look at chapter one in
The Names of God Bible
. (For further study, go to www.mesuandrews.com for free downloadable Bible study questions and a group discussion guide.) As is true of all prophetic books in Scripture, some of Hosea’s prophecies were fulfilled in his lifetime, some were fulfilled later in Israel’s history, and some will be fulfilled in the future. But one of my favorite lessons from Ann Spangler’s research is found in Hosea 1:9, when Yahweh refuses to be called
Ehyeh
—I Am—by the Israelites anymore. He refuses to be known any longer as their mighty, desert-wandering God. How devastating, right? But in the very next verse, He promises to someday be
El Chay
—their living God. My heart just soars at those words! That’s my Jesus! He’s no longer the distant, dry, desert God of Sinai. He’s the resurrected Savior—the merciful, holy,
living
, gracious God of the New Testament—right there in the first chapter of Hosea.

Second Kings 14:1–18:12 gives the biblical accounts of
both Israel’s and Judah’s kings. Second Chronicles concentrates on Judah’s kingdom in far more detail. You can read about the reigns of King Amaziah, Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah in chapters 25–32.

One final comment on the list of kings in Hosea 1:1. Though Hosea was an Israelite, this verse mentions four Judean kings and only one Israelite king. My story depicts Hosea’s life as most commentators suggest. Hosea (or his scribe) is believed to have recorded his prophecies after he was safely out of Israel and living in Judah. Several experts went a step further, however, saying the writer of Hosea likely added Judah to many of the prophecies that Hosea originally spoke only to the people of Israel. They reasoned that during Ahaz’s reign, Judah’s idolatry became at least as vile as Israel’s had been. Hosea’s words to faithless Israel were equally relevant to the idolatrous nation Judah had become under Ahaz’s reign.

As I read those comments, I realized Hosea’s words to faithless Israel were just as relevant to our world today. I have broken God’s heart too often as well. May we all return to Yahweh and say, “Forgive all our sins, and kindly receive us. Then we’ll praise You with our lips. We will never again say that the things ou
r hands have made are our gods.”

__________________

*
Harry Mowvley,
The Books of Amos & Hosea
(London: Epworth Press, 1991).

W
riting this book was a little different than it was for my first two novels. I knew it was going to require more research, and I had half the time to write it. Fortunately, Jesus knew all that as well. My prayer team worked overtime on this one. I sent out multiple red alerts when I hit a wall on the plot or felt overwhelmed.

Multnomah University Research Librarian Suzanne Smith was an incredible resource in the process. I gave her a time period, a topic, and a few details, and she’d return with lists of books and periodicals that kept me reading for weeks. And when I kept books
way
past due dates, Pam Middleton rescued me and offered grace.

Another blessing came in the form of my first ACFW National Conference. Besides the incredible people I met there (way too many to name), I attended crucial workshops that streamlined this book’s process. Jeff Gerke’s continuing class, “Plot vs. Character,” was worth the whole conference fee, but Karen Ball’s encouragement to seat-of-the-pants authors was also a godsend. Mary DeMuth gave me incredible insight
for Gomer’s broken childhood. Thank you for your beautiful and transparent ministry.

To my faithful critique partners, Meg Wilson and Michele Nordquist—you two are perfect editing harmony. When I click “Combine” on that MS Word Review tab, I get grammar, plot, characterization . . . I love your encouraging comments, and your nitpicking gives me indigestion—and always makes the story stronger. “Thank you” is never enough for what I put you through.

To Vicki Crumpton, my editor and champion. I’ve never met anyone who can say the hard things so gently. I love your wit, and you always seem to find the heart of a trouble spot I can’t quite explain. You are incredibly talented and the most humble person I’ve ever met. I admire you deeply, my friend.

To Jessica English, Michele Misiak, and the whole Revell team—what a privilege to finally have met so many of you in person! You’re fabulous at what you do, and you’ve spoiled me rotten! I so appreciate the heart and soul you put into your work, the joy with which you encourage and serve. Thank you beyond words.

To my family. Thank you for patiently giving up time during the holidays so I could run off to a hotel and write. Thanks to my son-in-love, Brad King, for his work on my book trailers. To my sweet mama, Mary Cooley. She loves to talk about
anything
having to do with her God, and she always has special insight when it comes to loving Jesus.

Finally, to my husband, Roy. I would not know real love unless I knew you. I adore you.

Mesu Andrews
has devoted herself to passionate and intense study of Scripture. Harnessing her deep understanding of and love for God’s Word, Andrews brings the biblical world alive for her readers. She and her husband enjoyed fourteen years of pastoral ministry before moving to the Pacific Northwest to pursue the next step in God’s calling. They have two married children and live in Washington, where Mesu writes full-time. Visit Mesu at
www.mesuandrews.com
.

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Love’s Sacred Song

Love in a Broken Vessel