Hosea's Wife

Lynda and I sat at a small table outside of a coffee shop in the center square of Plaza Foch.  Praying, listening, watching.  Incognito prayer warriors, scouting out the land, looking for God's heart beat in this place.

As we shared with each other what we were sensing, while sipping our coffee, we were approached by two beautiful little girls, tiny arms full of roses and candies.  No older than 7 or 8 years old, it is a common thing for children at this age to help their families by selling candy on the streets.  Normally it's necessary to say, "I'm sorry.  No thank you."  There are just too many to give money to every one.  But this night we just happened to have packages of chocolate cookies with us.  As they looked at us with those sad, brown eyes, I handed the younger one a package of cookies.  Hopefully they would experience the love of God through the simplicity of this gift.

This little girl took the cookies and then proceeded in her most pitiful voice to try to convince me to give the other girl a package as well.  I told her that the cookies were to share and that there were enough for the two of them.  But she continued to plead for more cookies.  Lynda reached into her purse and pulled out two art pieces; one for each girl.  We told them that we couldn't give them more cookies but we wanted them to have the art.  God had something very special to say about each one of them.  The other girl looked at her's and asked if she could switch for a different one.  I handed the first girl a beautiful drawing of a heart that said, "All the love of heaven is over you, dear one."  I looked straight into her eyes and told her how much God loves her.  "You are His daughter.  You are so beautiful to Him.  You are a princess."

She did not want to hear any of that.  She just wanted more cookies.  Finally, in frustration she started to huff off.  Before she left, she turned around, looked at the picture of the heart in her hand, ripped it down the middle and threw it back at us.

I felt like someone had just punched me in the gut.  I could hardly believe what had just played right before our eyes.  This tiny 7 year old had just rejected Love, wanting the pleasure of sweets instead.

In that moment, it was as if the Father lifted a veil from my eyes and showed me how He feels all the time.  With that picture of the ripped heart lying on the table right in front of me, staring back at me with the utter brokenness of the situation, I knew that we were guilty of having done the exact same thing over and over and over again.

How often do we come to God, wanting the cookies instead of the love?  We come for the benefits, the blessing, and He is so good to give us what we ask for.  Yet when He offers us the greatest treasure of all, when He extends the free gift of His love, we tear it up and throw it back in His face.

Hosea 4:12

For the spirit of harlotry has caused 

them to stray,

and they have played the harlot

against their God.

God asked Hosea to marry a prostitute.  This would be the hardest thing he ever did.  He would love her, give her beautiful things, woo her heart, marry her, have two children with her.  And yet.  And yet she would choose other lovers over his love for her.  She would throw everything back in his face and reject his heart.

The spirit of harlotry fills our streets, our homes, our churches.  It's the pervading theme of, "I want what you have, but I don't want you."  It chooses the benefits over intimacy.  It chooses profit over relationship.  It makes God a business instead of a love affair.  How have we fallen so far?

But after all that, after His very heart is abused, rejected and thrown back in His face, He continues to love us, He continue to pursue the on His heart desires.

Hosea 2:14, 16, 19, 20

Therefore, behold, I will allure her,

and bring her into the wilderness,

and speak tenderly to her.

And in that day, declares the Lord,

you will call me "My Husband"

and no longer will you call me "My Master."

And I will betroth you to Me forever.

I will betroth you to Me

in righteousness and justice,

in steadfast love and mercy.

I will betroth you to me in faithfulness.

And you shall know the Lord.

The other day I was on a run, twisting through back neighborhood roads, passing by fruit stands, breathing in the fumes of buses going by.  Nothing new.  But then, as I ran down the pavement, something in the gutter caught my eye.  In the midst of the trash and filth that lined the road I saw a single red rose.  At first I thought to just continue on my run.  But then I saw person after person walking down the sidewalk, glance down at the lonely rose, and then pass on by.  And the Holy Spirit stopped me.

Ellie, I never pass on by.

No matter used up, broken, filthy, and valueless we see ourselves, He never passes by.  Again, I think of Hosea's wife.  She was the rose, selling herself for temporary love, value, and beauty.  But then she ended up in the gutter among the trash.  Yet there is never an ounce of I-told-you-so inside of God's heart.  Never does He say, "I offered you my love and you rejected it for another love.  You lost your chance."  Never!  He always picks her up out of her filth and rescues her back into His love.

As I ponder all of this, I find myself responding for myself as well as on behalf of all those around me.  Never do I want to reject the love of my Savior!  Let me never choose another love over His love.  And not only that, let me love like my God who says...

Hosea 11:8

How can I give you up...?

My heart churns within Me;

                                                                 My sympathy is stirred.

What is Behind Their Eyes?

“The Eyes are the window to your soul.” - William Shakespeare

This phrase ran through my mind over and over and over again as I walked through the crowds of lonely people 2 weeks ago, all having somewhere they were going, but really going nowhere.  So dark, so very dark.  Artificial light flashing in front of me, from every club and every street corner.  The pounding sound of music, echoing through the emptiness of countless searching souls.  The red light district of Quito.

What is it about eyes that captures a human being?  What is it about catching someone's glance that causes them to quickly look away?  Is it fear of letting someone look into the window of their souls?  Is it fear of being found out?

The Lord began to speak to me about the power of the eyes.

Matthew 6:22-23  

"The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!"

I have the great life calling of gazing into the eyes of my Maker.  And as I do, the fullness of His life is transferred into me.  It's as if our eye connection creates a highway for His Spirit to flow out of the great windows of God's heart and then in through the the windows of our hearts.

We are no different as human beings.  We are able to build connection with someone when we simply look into their eyes, see who they truly are and still choose to love them.  And in that place, the Light that is inside of us is able to flow into the one we behold.  What a powerful, unspoken transformation that takes place!  

2 weeks later, there was something even deeper, a greater loneliness behind the beautiful dark eyes of the people down on the streets.  Valentine's Day.  The Global day of Love.  The commercialized picture of red roses, chocolates, teddy bears and romantic, candle-lit dinners.  How is it that such a superficial, plastic image of "love" could entice so many people, as it feasts on their money and then throws their brokenness back in their faces?

And here in Latin America, the atmosphere was charged with a spiritual tension that was greater than I have ever experienced in the States on Valentine's Day.  It felt like there was almost a desperation that lay right underneath the surface of an entire city.  

Am I really loved?  What must I do in order to cling onto this sense of being wanted?  Will it be stripped away from me tomorrow?  Is there something wrong with me?

Isn't this the question that every human being is asking?  Am I lovable? 

We were split into groups of 3's and 4's, each with a couple of thermoses full of hot chocolate and art pieces that our team had been working on for the past couple of weeks.  Also, someone had donated 50 red and white roses for us to hand out to the women in the red light district.  Although these were still a material symbol of love, we knew that the Holy Spirit was going to redeem these simple, fragrant buds in order to minister to the hearts of those hungering for real love.

They were the women selling chocolate on the street corners.  They were the mother and children digging through the trash in search recyclable material.  They were the prostitutes with their backs against the wall, waiting for the next customer as if it were any other day.  They were the starving teenagers, completely high from sniffing glue in order to dull themselves from the bitter life of sleeping on the cold streets.  They were the women outside the bar, smoking together to avoid the loneliness that screamed in their faces.

As I looked into each set of eyes, I truly felt like I was peering into some place of their soul.  There was so much brokenness, but it was a broken beauty that just needed someone to love it back into wholeness.

With eyes fixed, we spoke the words of truth.  

You are so beautiful.  You are dearly loved by God.  Your heart is so pure, just like this rose.  You have a destiny.  You are never alone.

While they looked into our eyes, it was as if they were able to see the truth and the love that was inside of our souls, flowing out to touch theirs.  What beautiful worship unto the Lord as the windows of their eyes filled with light, wonder, hope and tears.

What a perfect way to waste our Valentine's day by extravagantly pouring out our fragrant perfume on the Lord by ministering to His Beloved!

"Your eyes look like coming home..."

The Indigenous Sound of the Amazon

Bumping and jostling over the uneven, dirt road that lead us deeper and deeper into the jungle.  Eyes plastered on the scene before me, just beyond the rain smeared pane of glass.  Untamed, uninhabited, uncivilized, uncontrolled, unrestrained.  What lies in the deep of this endless forest?  What sort of people establish their lives in this fierce land?  This, this is the Amazon.

We had a solid 8 hours in our tightly packed van to our final destination - a tribe of Waodoni people, who we are wanting to build connection with in order to bring teams to minister to them in the future.  During the ride, our "tour guide" (a gentleman who has been working with this tribe for 7 years) shared the rich history and lifestyle of this tribe...

The Waodonis are a distinct indigenous group of people in the Ecuadorian Amazon, who have their own language, customs, culture, etc...  Through history, these people lived somewhat nomadic lifestyles, moving from place to place, hunting wild animals, wearing little more than leaves, and practicing their own religion with the spirits of nature.  In the past, they were known as a hostile group of people, killing outsiders or each other with man-sized spears, often times for no apparent reason.

With the influence from "outsiders", specifically oil companies that have moved in over the past 20-40 years, the Waodonis have adopted much of the civilized culture: establishing permanent settlements, the use of electricity, having schools in the communities that teach Spanish, wearing clothes...

Even with all this information, my mind swirled with questions and anticipation.  This was the same group of people who Jim Elliot and his group had tried to reach with the Gospel 60 years previously.  This was the same group of people who had speared these missionaries on the bank of the river.  This was the same group of people that the wives and the children of these modern day martyrs spent much of their lives with, continuing to bring the love and forgiveness of the Father.  How much has changed?  How did the lives AND deaths of these missionaries affect this previously unreached people group?

Ellie, you will hear the indigenous sound of the Amazon.

This was all that the Lord spoke to me in preparation.  As we climbed out of the van and sank into the deep mud, I turned my ear to listen.  As we greeted the leaders of the community and their families, I listened.  As we were lead through the village by a 6 year old girl, I listened.  As one of the elders shared his life story with us, I listened.  As we took a 5 hour trek through the unmarked jungle, I listened.

What I heard was both beautiful and painful.

These people have developed so much over the years, abandoning many of their savage ways, no longer spearing each other in rage, moving away from alcoholism, living and making decisions as a community, giving their children education.  And at the same time, they are still fighting to maintain the beauty of their culture as they live in close family, continue to live off the land, have beautiful ceremonies with dancing and singing, and continue to speak their native tongue.

Yet I was left confused and grieved as I also heard the sound of a people still oppressed by a heavy darkness.  I heard the fear in our little friend, Cupe, who refused to take us down a certain road because of the dead man at the end who comes back to life to drag girls away.  I heard the emptiness in 17 year old Rosillo, who had been abducted at 6 by a family who would abuse her for the next 10 years until her brother came and rescued her and then had her marry him.  She was days away from having her first baby, which she will do basically on her own in her house, with little more than a rope to hold onto.  I heard the pain of abuse from the men who took many wives for themselves, girls as young as 13-14, or the pain of incest towards the most innocent children.  I hear the sound of spiritual bondage in a 70 year elder who had just lost his entire family because a spirit had told his wife to poison herself and all her children.

This is injustice.

How is it that someone can go as far as laying down his life for a people group, and yet the enemy continues to have a hold on them with his death grip?  Jim Elliot gave his life for the Waodonis, and so many are still lost in darkness.  Jesus Christ gave his life for mankind, and so many are still lost in darkness.  The price has been paid.  When will Jesus get his just reward?  When will the sound of sorrow be turned into the sound of rejoicing?  When will the song of pain be turned into the song of redemption?

My time in the Amazon was so brief.  Beautiful, surreal, inspiring, life changing, but very, very short.  Yet I feel as if I did hear the indigenous sound of the Amazon.

For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God.  

For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, 

in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.  

For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.

The sound is creation groaning for the sons and daughters of God to arise.  The sound is a longing for God's people to take back what the enemy has stolen, to claim Jesus' just reward.  The sound is the future day when every tribe and every tongue will worship the Lamb.  The sound is in the hearts of the Waodoni people, and it will soon be released!

Beautiful Wao people

Our team in the Jungle!

Canoe ride back to camp

Welcoming ceremony

Typical Wao house

Leaders in the community in front of a traditional Wao hut

Baby Diego!

Joining in the dancing, singing and laughing

Our team with one of the elders of the tribe