I returned on other evenings, but Gomer never again spent such a long time with me.  She seemed to enjoy my company and to look forward to my visits, but at some stage during each evening, she would start looking around at the others in the room and make some excuse or other to leave.  Every time I watched her slim form leaving me, I wished that I could care for her so that she would have no need to seek income from sin.  Invariably, jealousy filled me and I left as quickly as possible, knowing what she was seeking, but not wanting to know any more about it.

One evening, she was quieter than usual and seemed distracted as we sat down together.

"What is wrong, Gomer?" I asked, concerned.

"It doesn't matter, I can cope," she replied, trying to smile.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked.  "I would like to have the opportunity to help you."

"Why?" she asked, looking utterly lost.  Maybe she had never before had anyone who loved her.

"Because I love you and would like to look after you, Gomer," I replied.

"Why?" she asked again, looking even more lost and confused.

"I want you to be my wife, Gomer.  Will you marry me?"

She began to protest, "But I am a..." but I stopped her, holding up both hands.  I didn't want to be reminded of that.

"Will you marry me?" I asked again, pleadingly.  "I can look after you and you won't need to do that any more.  We can be happy together and faithful to each other."

"I like you, Hosea," she said.  "I have always enjoyed our conversations.  And I can be a good wife to you."
"Will you marry me?" I asked for a third time, eagerly this time.

"Yes," she said, smiling into my eyes and putting her hand on mine.  Then she looked around at the customers and I could sense what was coming.

"No, Gomer," I said firmly.  "When I leave tonight, you are coming with me.  There is to be no more of this... this... working," I finished, lamely.

That night, I took her with me when I left and led her straight to my parents' house.  They greeted her coldly and it was clear that they knew exactly who she was and what she was.  I couldn't believe how much my own attitude had changed, since I would previously have felt precisely the same as they did.  Now I felt protective, and spoke firmly to my parents about how they must treat my betrothed wife.  Very kindly and generously they did so, and we were married shortly afterwards.

The start of our married life was happy.  I loved Gomer and she loved me.  We had each promised to be faithful to each other, and she had promised particularly that she would never work as a prostitute again.

Had it not been for God’s comments about unfaithfulness, I would have been sure that our marriage would be happy and fulfilling for the rest of our lives.  If I had been truly convinced of this, later events would have been even harder to accept than they were.  But in the back of my mind, Israel’s words at Mount Sinai echoed mockingly:

“All the words that the Lord has spoken we will do.”[1]

Soon after our wedding, Gomer was expecting our first child.  I was filled with joy and Gomer was quite pleased too, although for some time her pleasure was curbed by morning sickness.

How happy we were together when our son was born.  Then God told me to name him Jezreel because God was soon going to punish the ruling house of Jehu because of the blood shed when Jehu had demanded the deaths of the many sons of Ahab in the town of Jezreel.[2]

Gomer did not like the name: she said it was negative and unpleasant.[3]  Why couldn’t we just give him a “normal” name like other people did?  She felt that it was all very well to worship Yahweh as a god, but that having him name our children seemed peculiar.  Nothing I could say would change her opinion, and a gulf began to open between us.  This was not the first sign of difficulties ahead, but it was the most significant.

When I look back, I can see that she was already pining for her old days of freedom – as she saw it.  Freedom to live without constraint, without limits.

Jezreel grew quickly and was healthy and happy.  I spent as much time with him as I could, given my uncertainty about his mother.  I still loved her and did whatever I could to help her and show her my love, but within just a few months, she began going out by herself regularly, leaving young Jezreel with me to look after.

I tried to stop her going.  I reminded her of her past and her promises, but she assured me that she was doing nothing wrong.  She declared that she loved me and would always be faithful to me.  I wanted to believe her, and we still had pleasant times together when she was at home.  Could I trust her?  Our neighbours started to notice her behaviour, and some were kind enough to come and warn me about what was happening.

I was desperate.  I tried speaking to a friend and asking for his wife to talk to Gomer about what was happening.  In their loving helpfulness, they did so, but Gomer had innocent explanations for everything she did.  So I followed Gomer myself one day, and what I saw made me wish that I hadn’t.  It did take away my doubts, but that didn’t really help.  Gomer was my wife: what should I do?  She was abandoning me and our son, but I could not abandon her.

The owner of the inn where I had met Gomer was not a godly man, but I had got to know him quite well while I had been going there to see Gomer.  I decided to speak to him to see whether there was any way in which he could discourage her from going to his inn.  I had already been hurt and angry, but after speaking with him I felt savage.  He reported that Gomer had told him that I was quite happy with her behaviour and that she had my permission to return to her old habits of prostitution.

At that moment, if I had met any of the men she went to the inn to see, I would assuredly have killed them.  If I had met Gomer, I honestly don’t know what I would have done, but I’m glad that I didn’t.  It was only once I went home and thought bitterly about God’s requirements for me that my jealousy and anger began to lose their grip.

I started to see that what Gomer was doing to me was just what my nation had always done to God.  We had promised eternal obedience and faithfulness, only to quickly break our word by disobeying God’s commands and worshipping other gods.  Not only that, but we had claimed that we were still worshipping faithfully, and that we had God’s approval for our behaviour.

It wouldn’t be true to say that I began to feel a long patience with my beloved but unfaithful wife: my jealousy continued to burn furiously within me, and I couldn’t control the terrible pain that seemed to tear at me endlessly.  But it wasn’t as bad as it had been, and the realisation made me determined to keep trying as God does.

That night, Gomer came home early, feeling unwell.  As I looked at her closely, I guessed why, but said nothing.  The next morning, she was nauseous and ill, and this continued for about two months.

During all that time, I helped her when she could not even stand without vomiting, and looked after Jezreel all of the time when ordinarily I would have been winning bread for the family.  God showed us his love and kindness by providing food for the family, and I struggled to emulate his patience.  Gomer was pathetically grateful for my care and persistently repentant.  Once again, the similarity with my nation was clear: throughout our history, we had wilfully abandoned God again and again, only to crawl back to him when we needed his help.

We both knew that it was morning sickness that was making her feel uncomfortable, and both of us had questions about that.

Once the morning sickness had passed, Gomer stayed grateful and content for a few months, but before the child was born, she was clearly chafing again, and it was only her physical awkwardness that kept her at my side.

Our second child, a girl, was finally born – but was she ours?  God told me to name her “Lo-ruhamah”, which means “no mercy”, and Gomer wasn’t happy with that either.  She was very pleased to have a daughter, but the name she would not accept.  Instead, Gomer called her “Racham”, which meant the exact opposite of God’s name for her.  Where would this lead, I wondered?  I made sure that I used God’s name for our daughter, but her mother always responded that she embodied love and compassion and was lacking nothing.  God’s unending fight with my nation was being acted out in my family as good was said to be evil and evil, good.

Could the situation get any worse, I asked myself?  But it seemed that it could.  Soon after Lo-ruhamah’s birth, Gomer was straying again, but now she took Lo-ruhamah with her every time.  Short of beating her or locking her up, there was nothing I could do.  At times, I made sure that I took Jezreel and Lo-ruhamah out with me before Gomer left, but whenever I did so, she was aggressive and abusive when we next met.  She began to mock me and tell me horrible things about her behaviour, doing her best to hurt me and make me let her have her own way.  When I had recovered from her cruelty and could think clearly, I could see the similarities between her behaviour and Israel’s flagrant presentation of idolatry before the children whom God had given, and even in our worship of God.

What should I do?  God had not abandoned his people over centuries – should I be abandoning my wife after only four years of marriage?  Oh, but it hurt so much: could I keep going?

[1] Exodus 24:3
[2] 2 Kings 10:1-9
[3] Jezreel means “God will disperse”.1