The Harlot

by Don “Avraham” Franklin of Emet Ministries

My name is Gomer. I stand. Humiliated. One, of a group of women, hoping to be bought. To become the bride of someone that will love and cherish me. My youthful beauty has long vanished, leaving the tired, drawn, weathered woman that stands before the crowd today.

The bidding, loud and furious, echoes all around me. One by one the women around me, the young, beautiful maidens begin to disappear. It becomes clear that I will be the last. The one no one wants. Tears begin to fill my eyes. I have never known such complete despair. I am despised and mocked I can only stare down at my dirty hands. My clothes, torn and filthy, offer little protection against the blazing sun. My once beautiful hair, now matted and dirty hangs loosely around my face, the only cover I have hiding the faces of the men that laugh and scorn me.

I close my eyes and memories of the life I left begins to fill my mind. My heart cries out to return to the one who loved me. The one who cherished me. To return to the life that I threw away. If only I could open my eyes and once more see the face of my beloved Hoshea.

I had been a harlot. A whore. Common and despised. I brought nothing but great shame to my family. Then he came. The gentle, loving, prophet of Yahweh. Hoshea. Against all odds, this man of Yahweh desired me. My father, Diblayim, gave me to Hoshea, to be his bride, grateful, no doubt, for the chance to make an honest woman of me. Hoshea took me as his wife and loved me as I have never been loved before. Hoshea was a gentle man. Loving and gracious. He never mentioned my past. It was as though he had forgotten it. Hoshea loved me, for me.

In time we had a beautiful son. We named him Jezreel, which means “Yahweh sows” in Hebrew. It seemed that I had everything I desired. A loving husband. A beautiful son. A home, food, clothing. Everything I didn’t deserve. Things that were never meant for a women like me.

Again I gave birth. This time to a beautiful daughter. Hoshea was beside himself with pride. His heart seemed to burst with love for his newborn daughter.

Hoshea, desired to dedicate his new child to Father Yahweh. So he took her to the temple to ask blessings from the Father for her and to seek a name for his precious child. As he lifted her before Yahweh, the Father said, "Name her Lo-ruhamah, for I will no longer have compassion on the house of Israel, that I should ever forgive them.”

Hoshea knew. I had been unfaithful to him. The daughter that he so loved was not his. I had taken a lover. My heart sought after the things that my new lover offered. I was drawn to the pleasures that he offered. I wasn’t going to be restrained by anyone. Hoshea was a good and decent man, but I wanted more. I wanted things my way. My greedy heart new no limits. I wanted it all.

Hoshea continued to love me. In spite of my unfaithfulness.

I had barely weaned Lo-ruhamah, when I again conceived and gave birth to a son. This time the Father said, "Name him Lo-ammi, for you are not My people and I am not your Elohim."

Our third child was conceived with yet another lover. How it broke Hoshea’s heart. He had given me everything, asking only for my love in return. His love and compassion only seemed to fuel the rebellion in my heart. How could I be faithful to just one man? Why should I submit myself to him only, when I could have it all?

I began to openly seek after other lovers. My heart of harlotry knew no bounds. As expected, a great wall of division separated Hoshea and myself. He became a distant memory to me. The deeper I sank into my new world, the more I forgot about Hoshea.

His love and compassion for me seemed like a shadow. A veil that now covered my eyes.

Hoshea even sent our children to beg me to return and repent. He threatened to expose me to the world as a harlot. To strip me naked before the world and put me to shame.

But the worldly pleasures of my new life drove the fear of exposure from me. I felt no shame for my sins. I would have no part of repentance. I didn’t need Hoshea anymore. I had my new lovers. The gifts of fine food, clothing, jewelry, and fine wines.

Years past. I sought after my new life with unquenchable lust. I felt that I had found the way to contentment. Pleasures and possessions were the only way to go.

Day by day my youth began to slip away. My hard living began to take a toll on my body. My youthful lovers began to leave me one by one. Without my beauty, I was nothing to them. I soon found myself alone. The riches that I had accumulated vanished. I had been abandoned by all of my friends. Without someone to take care of me I would soon perish. In my culture, the only commodity that a woman has to offer is her body. I tried to find the men that had sworn to always love me, but they all scorned me. I no longer appealed to them.

Hungry and alone, I knew that the only way I was going to survive was to find a husband.

If only I could have my beloved Hoshea back. My life was so much better when I belonged to him. But that was long ago. I had heard that Hoshea had dedicated his life to the ministry. Surely he has forgotten me.

I decided to offer myself on the auction. Gentlemen with thirty pieces of silver come to buy wives at the auction. Gentlemen, seeking a bride to love and cherish.

Here I stand. Alone and miserable. All of the other women have been bought. I can see them smiling. Talking with their new husbands. Hope and joy on their faces. The pure, simple pleasure of being desired by someone. Belonging to someone.

I have given up hope. The day is growing long. The sun has made my dirty, leathery skin even more repulsive. Hope has left me. I realize that I am alone and doomed.

Then, the auctioneer points in my direction, “You, come. You have been purchased.” I strain to see the buyer among the crowds of people. I finally see a man approaching the auctioneer with his money in his hand. He pays the price for me and then turns his gaze towards me. My heart nearly stops beating. There standing before me is my beloved Hoshea. His eyes filled with tenderness, he gently takes my hand and leads me away from the awful site of the auction.

“Come home with me”, he whispers. “I forgive all that you have done. Return with me and be my beloved. I have missed you.”

The heart of a harlot beats in each of us. Every one of us has turned our backs on our bridegroom and sought after the things of this world. We have played the harlot, worshipping other gods. Bowing ourselves to pagan traditions, we have forsaken the commandments, the Torah of our King.

We have given ourselves over to lying spirits that have convinced us that Yahweh has abandoned His own Word. That Yahshua the Messiah came to separate us from the Torah and to start a new religion called Christianity.

We have sought to do things our way. We have made ourselves out to be little gods. We tell the Father on what day we will worship Him. We tell Him what Feasts and traditions we will keep in His name.

We have become that lonely broken harlot. Alone and naked before the world. The elaborate schemes that have been set in place by the adversary have blinded us to the truth of the Word of Yahweh. We have become mighty in our own eyes, yet we are blind.

Wake up! Remember the Name of Yahweh! Remember the life that we had with our first love. Repent and return to Him. He is waiting to forgive and bless us. We must turn away from the things of this world and give our hearts to Yahweh. We must embrace His Torah, as a drowning person clings to a life preserver. Forget the lies that have been taught and remember our loving Father, Yahweh, that led his children out of captivity. That gave His only son, Yahshua, that all men may be reconciled to him and become children of the King. Israelites. The chosen children of Yahweh. Wake up you dreamers! Hear the voice of Yahweh calling you home.