October 21, 2012 by Erin

Gentle God

Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her. (Hosea 2:14 ESV)

I cannot believe how gentle Jesus is. The Lord of Heaven, the one of whom the angels sing infinite “holies,” the God of thunder — not only does he speak (mercy enough), but he speaks in a still, small voice. Who would have guessed?

I’m not always a soft person: I am dry, blunt, and sometimes even harsh. I think part of me expects Jesus to give me back what I dish out — I should be able to take it, after all. And don’t I fail him every day? Don’t I succumb to silly fears? Don’t I indulge my rebel heart? My own response to my constant shortcomings is something like, “Erin, come on. Seriously? Get it together.” I know I have no excuse for my disobedience or my lack of trust in him. If I were God, I would grab me by the shoulders and shake me.

But I’m learning Jesus is not like that. He does not deal with me the way I deal with myself. This week, I told a friend that I can usually discern Jesus’ voice because it’s gentler than I would be. He doesn’t yell or run me over — he calls softly, tenderly. He comes not to crush my rebel soul, but to woo it.

He brings peace that stills my worry. He whispers that I am his. Instead of telling me to get over my silly fears, he patiently walks with me through them, giving me the courage I need one step at a time. Instead of responding to my distrust of him with cold dismissal, he proves himself over and over again, never tiring of telling me how much he loves me and wants my good. The fact that I’m not quite where I should be doesn’t seem to fluster him as much as it does me. When I expect him to be exasperated, he comes instead with gentle prodding and an invitation to come closer to him.

I don’t mean at all to imply that sin is not deadly serious, or that it does not make God angry. He does not pat us on the back and say, “it’s ok” when we transgress. On the contrary, the Holy Spirit convicts and reveals the weight of our sin. But I’m starting to see that, even in conviction, he speaks to me gently and specifically. He does not pronounce a general “Not good enough!” Instead, he calls me by name and says, “I want more for you here. I want you free from that. I don’t want this between you and me.”

And when I hear that, I know it’s Jesus because I never could’ve invented anything so sweet. It’s melting my heart, if you want to know the truth, and it’s making me softer. Even though it seems too good to be true, I’m learning to trust his gentle, still, small voice.

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Written with: “leaves” scented candle, cozy flannel shirt, Andrew Peterson (again).