Thursday, September 19, 2013

I AM GOMER -- part 2

In order for this blog to make sense, you really need to read the post before this one. Please take the time do so.
After having baby after baby after baby, I bolted. I ran away. It’s been about 6 years or so since I was able to sleep through the night. I am one sleep-deprived momma. I’m an adult, and I ran away from home. Some people only think about doing it and feel horrible for thinking it, but I actually did it. I ran away from my responsibilities, my duties, and my roles as mother and wife. I was suffocating, so I got out. I needed to breathe! I wanted to laugh. I wanted to dress up and go out. I wanted to feel pretty and desirable and not a baby factory or an object lesson for the prophet. Am I the only one who has ever felt this way?

And let me just tell you, when I do something, I do it big. It’s big or go home. When I ran away from home, I slept with other men. I gave Hosea plenty of ammunition to divorce me. I had committed “adultery.” I had broken one of his ten commandments. Truthfully, Hosea had the right to have me killed. I had broken our marriage vow, and the law was that Hosea could divorce me, and I could be stoned. The things I had in our marriage were stripped away. Hosea took back his ring, my clothes, his name, his roof, his money, his protection. I was homeless. I was penny-less. I was exposed, and in case you don’t remember, I’ve birthed three babies and breast fed them all. Eventually, no man would have me. I mean who would want me. I’m stubborn, rebellious, prideful and a disgrace. I’m an embarrassment to anyone who knows me. I just wanted my lovers to give me what I wanted… what I needed… what I thought I deserved for giving them what they wanted. I want beautiful clothes, good food, jewelry! Is that too much to ask? But every time I’d go after a lover, there was always something preventing me, getting in my way.

I was hungry. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt that kind of hunger before.

I was alone. My so-called friends abandoned me. I wasn’t invited to any parties or get-togethers.

I was unkept. I just thought people talked about me before! I gave them more ammunition by begging for scraps and loose change while trying to cover myself. I went to what I knew best, to my old way of life, to my god, and I was discarded. Actually, I was put up for sale. I was once again in bondage…true bondage. How humiliating is that!?

I was broken and filthy and unfit. Bankrupt emotionally, spiritually and physically.

I’m standing there. Men walking by, grilling me with questions, ridiculing me, looking in my mouth, making comments about my body, calling me names. I’d cry but the tears just won’t come. They won’t.  I don’t even look them in the eye. I have no fight left in me. I am so dense.

Then a man stops in front of me, and he just stands there. I see his sandals, his feet. I want to cry. I know those feet. I do. They are Hosea’s, my ex-husband. I can’t imagine the horrible things he’s going to say. They’d be horrible, and all of them would be true…every last word. He doesn’t budge, and I still myself to look at his face.

Oh, the pain I have caused this man. I see it in his eyes. I look at this hands, and he’s holding a bag. He throws it to the seller, and says, “She’s mine.” He has every right to hate me, and in the eyes of our law, he has the right to kill me. I have betrayed him in every way imaginable. I can’t imagine what he’s going to do to me. I abandoned him. I abandoned everything he had given me. I abandoned our children, and he’s standing in front of me. I can’t help myself. I fall to my knees, and I weep. I sob. I can’t stop the tears from flowing. I deserve whatever he deems fit. I am unworthy. Unworthy.

He takes my hand and lifts me up to my feet. I see nothing but compassion and love in his eyes. How is that even possible? How can he? He reaches into his pocket, and he withdraws the ring. He places the ring on my finger, and he calls me his bride. He calls me his bride! This lump in my throat swells, and my heart is beating in my ears. I’m not sure I heard him correctly. He says it again, “You are my bride.” I’m a hot mess. I smell. I’m unclean. I’m damaged goods. I’ve rebelled and been self-centered, and he tells me he loves me and I am to be his wife and live with him and him alone. I’m speechless. All I can muster is a head nod in agreement. What did I do to deserve this? He clothes me like the wife of a prophet, and I see my children again for the first time in a very long time.  I’m dumbstruck. Then he pulls me into him, and I feel his arms around me, his protective arms.

How could I have not seen what was in front of my face the whole time? I had a life with Hosea. I was loved. I was well-dressed. I had jewelry. I had food. AND I THREW IT ALL AWAY, and here I stand. He saved it all for me, and he’s giving it back. He’s restoring me. I’ve missed out on so much that I’ll never get back, but I don’t plan on missing out on anything else. I will be faithful. I owe him everything.

People will talk about me for years to come. People will judge me as well, but I know the value of my relationship with my husband who has been faithful when I wasn’t and who paid a price for me that I could not pay. I cherish my relationship more today that I ever have before. I AM GOMER, Hosea’s wife.

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