I finally read Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. I’m so glad that I read it now. I don’t think I could have handled it before now.
There were moments were I couldn’t put the book down. There were moments where I had to stop and sit with what I’d just read. There were lots of moments that it felt like I was reading my own story.
I want to share with you the relentless, love-filled pursuit of my Savior for me. He has become my home and given me more than I can describe. The following is my story with Jesus over the years.
The following words are not mine. They were just too beautiful to pass up. I only replaced the character names with he and she.
Disclaimer: Be aware that much of the story arc of Redeeming Love is present in this blog. I used small moments from the whole book but it might be enough to spoil the book for you. Read at your own risk. 🙂
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A Conversation through the Years
…
“Nothing’s different now from what it’s always been, whatever you choose to call me.”
“It’s a whole lot different,” he said. “You’re my wife.”
She was shaking with weakness, but she fought back. “Do you really think that makes a difference? How? You paid for me.”
…
“Why did you come back?”
“God sent me.”
He was crazy. That was it. He was just plain crazy.
She was so tired, she wanted to die and sleep forever. She could barely keep her eyes open. “You and God better not expect much,” she mumbled.
“I want everything.”
“Your litany.” He could hope all he wanted, and he could ask, too. But all he was going to get was what was left. Nothing.
…
“What happened to all my things?”
“I forgot them. Besides, what you had wouldn’t suit you now anyway. These will have to do for a while. I know they’re not exactly what you’re used to, but I think you’re going to find these things suit you better than anything you’ve ever worn.”
“I’ll try and take your word for it.”
He smiled slightly. “In another week or two, you’ll be up to taking on a few chores.”
Chores? What chores did he have in mind?
“Mister, I don’t know the first thing about what to do.”
“I didn’t expect you would. You’re smart. You’ll learn.”
What did that mean? “Fine, mister. I’ll do whatever you’ve got in mind. I’ll match you hour for hour, day for day since you started taking care of me.”
…
“I’ve had enough,” she said. More than enough.
He had been watching her. “I’m not going to give you anything more than you can handle.”
She looked back at him and knew he didn’t mean chores. “And what about you, mister? Do you think you can handle what I’m going to give you?”
“Try me.”
She watched him. He wasn’t worried about anything. Every inch of him told her he knew who he was and what he was about, even if she didn’t. And she knew if she didn’t get well and get away soon, he would end up taking her apart, piece by piece.
…
Her stomach dropped. “You’ve enough work planned out to last a long while.”
He tipped her chin and looked straight into her eyes. “It’ll take us a lifetime.”
She jerked her chin away. “Don’t go pinning your hopes on me, mister. I have my own plans, and they don’t include you.” She went the rest of the way by herself.
…
She seethed with frustration. “How did a saint like you pick me? Are you testing your faith? Is that it?” She swept past him and went outside.
She wanted to run away but couldn’t. Every step hurt. She barely made it to the field before she had to stop and get her breath. He had jarred her when he pulled her away from the fire, and she hurt all over; but the physical pain was nothing to her own self-disgust and humiliation. She was stupid! She didn’t know anything! She didn’t know anything necessary to survive.
You’re going to learn.
“Oh, no I’m not! I’m not asking for his help. I’m not going to owe him anything. I didn’t ask him to come back. I didn’t ask for any of this!”
She went to nurse her grievances.
…
They were silent again, but she was not uncomfortable with it. The warmth of his body was coming through her. She felt the weight of his arm across her and the solidness of him bracing her back. She looked at the stars, tiny jewels against black velvet. She had never seen it like this before, so close she felt she could reach up and touch each bright speck of light. The night sky was beautiful. It had never looked like this from a window. And the smell–thick, moist, earthy. Even the sounds around her became a kind of music, like the birds and insects. Then the darkness lightened.
It began slowly, hardly noticeable. The stars grew smaller and smaller, and the black softened. She stood up, hugging the quilt around her, watching. At her back was darkness still, but before her was light: pale yellow glowing brilliant, gold-streaked with red and orange. She had watched sunrises before from within walls and behind glass, but never like this, with the cool breeze in her face and wilderness in every direction. She had never seen anything so beautiful.
Morning light spilled slowly over the mountains, across the valley to the cabin and the woods behind, and up the hillside. She felt his strong hands on her shoulders.
“That’s the life I want to give you.”
The morning sunlight was so bright it hurt her eyes, blinding her more than the darkness every had. She felt his lips against her hair. “That’s what I’m offering you.” His breath was warm. “I want to fill your life with color and warmth. I want to fill it with light.” He put his arms around her and held her back against him. “Give me a chance.”
She felt a heaviness building inside her. He had pretty words for her, but words weren’t life. Life wasn’t that simple, that straightforward. It was tangled and twisted, writhing from birth. She couldn’t erase the years.
Her mouth curved into a sad smile, and her soul ached. Maybe this man was all he seemed. Maybe he meant every word he said, but she knew something he didn’t. It was never going to be the way he wanted it. It just couldn’t happen. He was a dreamer. He wanted the impossible from her. Dawn would come for him, too, and he would awaken.
She didn’t want to be anywhere around when he did.
…
Something was at work inside her, something slow and insidious and threatening. She liked life. She felt comfortable and safe, except for him. She didn’t like the emotions he was beginning to rouse in her, the feelings nibbling at her resolve. She didn’t like that he didn’t fit any mold she knew; that he kept his word; that he didn’t use her; that he treated her differently form any way she had been treated before.
He was never angry when she made mistakes. He complemented and encouraged her. He gave her hope that she could learn, and pride when she did.
…
Forgiveness was a foreign word. Grace inconceivable. She wanted to make up for what she had done, and she sought to do it by labor. Others had never been forgiven, not even after a thousand Hail Marys and Our Fathers. So how could she be forgiven by a single word?
She worked to make it up to him. When she was finished with her own work, she sought him out ans asked for more to do.
He never asked her to do anything, so she looked for things to do for him.
She was exhausted but could not sit idle. Idleness made her feel guilty.
“You’re working too hard.”
She pushed herself up straighter and looked at the work in her hands. Her hands were shaking. “I’m just not used to this kind of work yet.”
“You’ve enough to do without thinking you have to take on half of what I do as well. You’re dead on your feet.”
There was no use talking to her. She was set on doing penance.
…
My love hasn’t been enough. She’s still there in the pit, dying. I reach for her, but she won’t take my hand. She’ll kill herself trying to earn my love when it’s hers already.
…
“He hasn’t given us a heart of fear,” he said. “He’ll show me the way when the time comes.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because he always has before.”
“I wish I could believe.”
He saw the fear in her eyes. “I promise to love and cherish you, to honor and sustain you, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, in the bad that may darken our days, in the good that may light our way. Beloved, I promise to be true to you in all things until I die. And even beyond that, God willing.”
She stood staring at him, shaken to the core. “And what have I to promise you?”
His eyes lit with gentle humor. “To obey?”
…
Oh, God. Oh, Jesus, please help me!
Then, just when she thought her heart would stop for the terror, she heard it.
Beloved.
It was the same voice she had heard.
Be still, for I am here.
“Where? Where?” she whispered frantically.
What do you want me to do? Tell me. Oh, God, tell me.
My will.
…
She could she him working. She was so full of conflicting emotions she could hardly bear it. Self-doubt, self-hatred, struggling pride, and fear. All the things that had sent her running so long ago and some that had kept her from going to him before now. She couldn’t allow them to stop her again.
Oh, God, give me strength. Please. Walk with me. Help me. I don’t know if I can go through this.
I have not given you a heart of fear.
She knew the moment he saw her. He stood very still, staring at her in the distance.
I mustn’t cry. I mustn’t.
She kept walking toward him. He didn’t move. Doubt stirred again, but she fought it down. She wanted to shed all the barriers that had kept her from him, all those months of defiance and fear and uncertainty. She wanted to discard the horrible memories and the guilt she had taken on herself for things she had been powerless to stop.
If only things had been different. She wanted so desperately to be clean for him, to be new. She wanted to please him. She would give the rest of her life to that end if he would let her. She wanted to strip away her past. Oh, if she could only be Eve again, a new creature in Paradise. Before the Fall.
With trembling hands, she removed the trappings of the world. She shrugged it off and let it drop as she walked. She stepped out of it.
Without faltering, she walked toward him.
She had never said all she should have. He didn’t know what he had done for her. He had been like the sea, sometimes storm-cast, with waves crashing against a cliff wall; other times he was like the steady, lapping surf. Always he had been the tide, washing her shore, reshaping her coastline.
Lord, no matter what he does or says, I have to thank him. He was always your good and faithful servant, and I never thanked him. Not enough. Oh, God, never, never enough.
She cast away anger, fear, and her blindness to the multitudes of joy in life, her own desperate pride. She had one single, abiding purpose: to show him she loved him, and she peeled away the layers of pride one by one until she was humbled.
As she came close, she saw the gray at his temples and the new lines in his beloved face. When she looked into his eyes, everything she felt spilled over. She had always known her own pain and loneliness, her own need. Now she came to face his.
Oh, what had she done to him in denying her love, in turning away? She had played God and done what she thought was best for him, and all she had done was cause him pain. She thought he was too strong to be hurt, too wise to wait. How much had her martyrdom cost him?
All her carefully planned words fled. So many words to say a simple heartfelt thing: I love you, and I’m sorry. She could not even speak. The tears that had been frozen inside her all her life came, and the last bastion melted away in a flood.
Weeping, she sank to her knees. Hot tears fell on his boots. She wiped them away with her hair. She bent over, heartbroken, and put her hands on his feet. “Oh, I’m sorry…”
Oh, God, forgive me.
She felt his hand on her head. “My love,” he said. He took hold of her and drew her up again. She couldn’t look into his face, wanting to hide her own. When he tipped her chin up, she had no choice but to look into his eyes again. They were wet like hers but filled with light. “I hoped you would come home someday,” He said and smiled.
…
I have only one final thought for you: have you come home?
