“Enough is enough!” His voice rang out with hurt-tinged anger. Justice engulfed his pain as he put an end to the relationship, ripping the contract she’d already broken. Repeatedly, He’d forgiven her adultery, but somehow, she always managed to drift away from him, straight into the arms of ruthless abusers whose perverse pleasure exploited and harmed her. He’d understand if he’d given her cause to spurn him. But he hadn’t. He’d loved her with breathless abandon. Fought for her. Showered her with gifts. Wooed her with his heart in his hands. And for the briefest moment, she’d appeared to love him back. However, it was his wealth and power that’d appealed to her; his heart, she’d quickly discarded. Thus began the descent of their relationship. Not because he’d failed as a husband, but because she’d hated being a wife.
He’d endured her complaints and nagging, silent beneath the bombardment of her disgruntle while holding nothing back of himself. He’d loved her with his whole being--far more than he loved himself. His attentiveness had known no limits, evidenced in things both great and small-, the flower garden he’d planted for her to enjoy, the beautiful home He’d crafted. He’d spared no expense, so eager was he to have it in perfect readiness for the day he’d bring her there. It was a labor of love, one he shared with her over the evening meal he prepared. She often pouted in response.
Regardless of what he did for her or how much he reassured her of his devotion, it was never good enough. Yet, those who offered her so much less were rewarded with her best. How many mornings had he stood gazing upon her sleeping form with the knowledge he’d come home to an empty house? Her intentions were easy to see, perfumed and washed as she was. To him, she offered a soiled body, rank with body odor, foul breath, and greasy hair. If she permitted his affection at all. But when she planned a tryst, she took special pains with her care, slathering herself with the expensive oils he’d purchased for her, adorning her hair with jewels he’d given her, and hanging her richest apparel in readiness for the occasion. Oh, how it hurt to know she couldn’t even wait for him to leave. No, so great was her haste to meet her lovers, that she prepared for them in his presence.Knowing this, time and again, he’d kissed her sleeping cheek, smoothed her carefully arranged hair, and whispered his love. At first, he’d protected her, keeping the lude and unsavory away from her, but her heart longed for them with such yearning, that he’d stepped away, giving her space to decide. She’d chosen them.
Without pride, he could say he was handsomer, stronger, richer, better than any who her heart panted after, but she couldn’t receive his love no matter how tenderly or how passionately he gave it. She’d rage that she was missing out, declaring that the life of a harlot was more satisfying than that of a wife. Though it wasn’t true, she claimed the life apart from him was free and full. Her broken, battered body always told a different tale. But the lies were etched so deeply in her mind, she believed them.
So, in spite of his grief, he let her go. He’d always held his anger in check, choosing to reassure her of his love and his willingness to have her back. She’d said he was weak. Then, she’d find herself in a bind, and he was the first one she’d call. He’d come, rescue her, hold her, absorb her pain into himself, and lavish her with love. He was quick to forgive, never holding her shame against her. In fact, he’d shield her from the slander of busybodies and businessmen alike, and because of his fine reputation, they’d hold their tongues. But the cycle would repeat.
Now, however, he’d had enough. Despite his knowledge of the cruelties she would endure without his care and protection, he severed his contract. He’d no longer run to her rescue. No longer bestow upon her the fruit of his love at her hint of faithfulness. He wouldn’t fight for her. Instead, he’d let her lovers spill upon her all the pain that was her due. She’d cry, but he wouldn’t listen this time. Her tears would no longer move him. If she wanted a divorce, then she could have one, and with it she could experience the fullness of separation, the pain of total aloneness, and the sorrow of betrayal—like he’d born for so many years.
He slammed his fist into his palm, then raised his clasped hands to his bent forehead. He couldn’t help himself. His love poured out, present in the pain and the anger. He whispered, “If you come back to me with your whole heart, I’ll have you. I’ll never stop loving you.”
Such was God’s reaction to adulterous Israel. The voices of Biblical prophets, through whom God spoke to His people, rang out early in the morning with HIS words, reminding them that the new day afforded them the opportunity to embrace their husband, lover of their souls. But Israel would not harken to the words of the Lord. She chose other gods, her adulterous heart sending, her time and again, away from the one who loved her. Freely giving herself to others, she encountered heart-wrenching sorrows, but she’d repeatedly disregard God in favor of idols and demonic wickedness that destroyed her.
Sadly, we treat God just as harshly. Like Israel, we think we need something rather than God to enjoy fulfillment We believe our situations require something in addition to God to have resolution. We tell ourselves that we can’t live the life He has chosen, and that our own way is easier and better. We act like God is the only one who should invest in our relationship—giving us the blessings we want while we live according to our own will. God calls it adultery, and our rejection of Him will always leave us broken, battered, and alone. However, when we ignore the clamoring of our flesh and the lies of the enemy, we can see the depth of His devotion to us. We can hear Him utter the truth of his love, first spoken from the cross when he cried, “It is finished!” an everlasting declaration that “enough is enough!”
Tip/Tidbit: We choose how God speaks "enough" concerning us. Will it be in agitation as he washes his hands of us, or will it be in in fulfillment of the work of the cross in our lives? If we choose to trust Him fully, he can say, "enough" to stop the attack of the adversary, "enough" to make provision, "enough" to fill our emptiness. He is and always will be ENOUGH!
He’d endured her complaints and nagging, silent beneath the bombardment of her disgruntle while holding nothing back of himself. He’d loved her with his whole being--far more than he loved himself. His attentiveness had known no limits, evidenced in things both great and small-, the flower garden he’d planted for her to enjoy, the beautiful home He’d crafted. He’d spared no expense, so eager was he to have it in perfect readiness for the day he’d bring her there. It was a labor of love, one he shared with her over the evening meal he prepared. She often pouted in response.
Regardless of what he did for her or how much he reassured her of his devotion, it was never good enough. Yet, those who offered her so much less were rewarded with her best. How many mornings had he stood gazing upon her sleeping form with the knowledge he’d come home to an empty house? Her intentions were easy to see, perfumed and washed as she was. To him, she offered a soiled body, rank with body odor, foul breath, and greasy hair. If she permitted his affection at all. But when she planned a tryst, she took special pains with her care, slathering herself with the expensive oils he’d purchased for her, adorning her hair with jewels he’d given her, and hanging her richest apparel in readiness for the occasion. Oh, how it hurt to know she couldn’t even wait for him to leave. No, so great was her haste to meet her lovers, that she prepared for them in his presence.Knowing this, time and again, he’d kissed her sleeping cheek, smoothed her carefully arranged hair, and whispered his love. At first, he’d protected her, keeping the lude and unsavory away from her, but her heart longed for them with such yearning, that he’d stepped away, giving her space to decide. She’d chosen them.
Without pride, he could say he was handsomer, stronger, richer, better than any who her heart panted after, but she couldn’t receive his love no matter how tenderly or how passionately he gave it. She’d rage that she was missing out, declaring that the life of a harlot was more satisfying than that of a wife. Though it wasn’t true, she claimed the life apart from him was free and full. Her broken, battered body always told a different tale. But the lies were etched so deeply in her mind, she believed them.
So, in spite of his grief, he let her go. He’d always held his anger in check, choosing to reassure her of his love and his willingness to have her back. She’d said he was weak. Then, she’d find herself in a bind, and he was the first one she’d call. He’d come, rescue her, hold her, absorb her pain into himself, and lavish her with love. He was quick to forgive, never holding her shame against her. In fact, he’d shield her from the slander of busybodies and businessmen alike, and because of his fine reputation, they’d hold their tongues. But the cycle would repeat.
Now, however, he’d had enough. Despite his knowledge of the cruelties she would endure without his care and protection, he severed his contract. He’d no longer run to her rescue. No longer bestow upon her the fruit of his love at her hint of faithfulness. He wouldn’t fight for her. Instead, he’d let her lovers spill upon her all the pain that was her due. She’d cry, but he wouldn’t listen this time. Her tears would no longer move him. If she wanted a divorce, then she could have one, and with it she could experience the fullness of separation, the pain of total aloneness, and the sorrow of betrayal—like he’d born for so many years.
He slammed his fist into his palm, then raised his clasped hands to his bent forehead. He couldn’t help himself. His love poured out, present in the pain and the anger. He whispered, “If you come back to me with your whole heart, I’ll have you. I’ll never stop loving you.”
Such was God’s reaction to adulterous Israel. The voices of Biblical prophets, through whom God spoke to His people, rang out early in the morning with HIS words, reminding them that the new day afforded them the opportunity to embrace their husband, lover of their souls. But Israel would not harken to the words of the Lord. She chose other gods, her adulterous heart sending, her time and again, away from the one who loved her. Freely giving herself to others, she encountered heart-wrenching sorrows, but she’d repeatedly disregard God in favor of idols and demonic wickedness that destroyed her.
Sadly, we treat God just as harshly. Like Israel, we think we need something rather than God to enjoy fulfillment We believe our situations require something in addition to God to have resolution. We tell ourselves that we can’t live the life He has chosen, and that our own way is easier and better. We act like God is the only one who should invest in our relationship—giving us the blessings we want while we live according to our own will. God calls it adultery, and our rejection of Him will always leave us broken, battered, and alone. However, when we ignore the clamoring of our flesh and the lies of the enemy, we can see the depth of His devotion to us. We can hear Him utter the truth of his love, first spoken from the cross when he cried, “It is finished!” an everlasting declaration that “enough is enough!”
Tip/Tidbit: We choose how God speaks "enough" concerning us. Will it be in agitation as he washes his hands of us, or will it be in in fulfillment of the work of the cross in our lives? If we choose to trust Him fully, he can say, "enough" to stop the attack of the adversary, "enough" to make provision, "enough" to fill our emptiness. He is and always will be ENOUGH!
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