Blocked, Stripped, Wooed – Hosea 2

Hosea 2 … Before we step into this word, I want you to hear my heart.

I don’t speak this message from a place of perfection as if I’ve “arrived”, as if I know it all and got all the answers, but from a place of reaching, pursuing, and growth myself. I’ve known the ache of chasing what does not satisfy—and I’ve known the grace of being chased down by God.

I come as someone who has at times chased the wrong things. As someone who has been blocked, stripped, and—thank God—wooed. … What I’m preaching today is a message God has been preaching to my own heart for weeks. As I prepared it for you, He was preparing it in me. 

And my prayer is that it would be just as enlightening and transforming for you as it’s been for me.

Let’s begin with a bit of backdrop before we jump in….The book of Hosea is jarring. God told a prophet to marry a prostitute. Not as a metaphor—as a message. Because He wanted Israel, and He wanted us, to see what His love actually looks like when we keep running.

The book of Hosea opens with what feels like a scandal—God gives a command that challenges everything we think is right. It confronts us with a kind of love that keeps chasing us, even after we’ve turned away. It’s a scandal by human standards—and that’s precisely the point. Hosea’s story shocks us into seeing grace in a whole new light.

But here’s the catch: We don’t always know we’re running. 

Sometimes deception doesn’t scream—it lulls. It rocks us into routine. Numbs us with normal. And before we know it, we’ve drifted far from the heart of God while still showing up in all the right places.

And that’s when mercy doesn’t stay quiet anymore. God doesn’t just watch us drift—He interrupts the lull.  And in love, He says: “Therefore…” … Three times in Hosea 2, God interrupts the drifting heart with a “Therefore.” 

Three divine ruptures. Three sharp turns. Because this isn’t a sweet story of someone else’s rebellion. It’s our story. We are Gomer—faithless, forgetful, still convinced we’re doing fine. 

And yet… He comes. Not with a finger of condemnation, but with a fierce kindness—Bold enough to confront, Loving enough to expose the lie, determined enough to disrupt our deception before it destroys us. He doesn’t shame us. He rescues us. Even from ourselves.

Let’s walk through these 3 loving interruptions together.

So here’s the first thing God does to the wandering heart: He interrupts it. Not to harm it. But to block it from continuing down a path that leads to more loss. He places divine roadblocks—unexpected, unwanted, but ultimately for good.

This is the first movement of grace for the wandering heart: Right from the text, here it is…

1. Blocked (v.6)

“Therefore I will hedge up her way with thorns and build a wall against her, so that she cannot find her paths.”

You know, before God whispers love, He sometimes builds a fence. Not out of anger—but out of mercy.

Thorns don’t feel like grace. Closed doors don’t feel like God. And confusion has a way of dressing up like defeat. But sometimes, the very path we prayed for is the one God blocks—because it would’ve broken us.

The truth is: Deception doesn’t always look evil. 

At times, it can look like progress. It can look like confidence. And it can definitely look like routine.

We call it “blessing.” But it’s really been “drifting” but dressed up.

Gomer ran after lovers. Not because she was wicked—but because she was wrongly convinced about where fullness could be found. So in her pursuits, God blocked her steps.

And maybe … He’s been doing that with you, too.

The job didn’t come through. The platform collapsed. The relationship ended. The thing that used to make sense… doesn’t anymore … That right there is not abandonment. That’s a divine hedge that has been put around you…A boundary built by love.

Maybe today is about asking a different question:

Not “Why won’t this work?” But “What is God saving me from?”

Blocked was the mercy that stopped her steps. But when the heart keeps chasing what cannot satisfy, love doesn’t give up—it goes deeper. God begins to strip away what we’ve been clinging to, not to punish, but to expose the emptiness beneath the idols, and gently lead us back to where true love can be found.

This is the second movement of grace for the wandering heart…

2. Stripped (v.9)

“Therefore I will take away my grain when it ripens, and my new wine when it is ready. I will take back my wool and my linen, intended to cover her naked body.” 

Sometimes love doesn’t feel like love at first. Sometimes it could feel like loss.

Not to shame us—but to show us. To remove the things we’ve built around us and leaned on for peace and security, so we can return to what truly matters—and place Him at the center once again.

Israel had grain, wine, oil—all gifts from God. But she gave credit to her lovers. She didn’t just walk away from God. She rewrote who the Provider was. She chased lovers who gave her gifts—grain, oil, wine, silver, gold. And she believed, “This came from them.” But God said, “No—it was Me. I gave her everything, and she didn’t even know it.”

She misread the provisions meant to sustain her as God-given permission to keep living the way she was.

She mistook the gifts she saw in herself for godliness and character she hadn’t yet cultivated.

And she gave credit to the wrong source.

And we do the same. Not always out of rebellion—sometimes just out of assumption.

We see the relationship and think, “God must’ve given me this—it makes me feel wanted.” 

We land the job and say, “He opened this door—it pays well.”

We embrace the lifestyle and assume, “It’s thriving—surely it’s holy.” … And maybe some of it was Him.  But some of it… wasn’t. … Because not everything that feels good is from God. Not every success means He’s in it. 

Sometimes we stamp His name on things He never signed.

And in His kindness, He removes what we mislabeled as holy—not to steal our joy, but to wake us up to how far we’ve drifted.

We called it a “blessing” because it worked. But it wasn’t Him. It was just something that lasted for a while—until He, in love, stripped it away. Not because He’s cruel, but because He wants to be the source again.

I’ve felt this in my own life. Things I clung to—all of a sudden, gone. Success I thought was from the Lord—stripped away. The comforts of life I called blessings—when they were stripped away, God called them distractions from my calling and purpose in life.

And for me, it hurt before it healed. And that healing process is still taking place in my life in beautiful ways as I trust that process.

I’ve learned that healing doesn’t always come with clarity at first. Sometimes it comes with confusion. With questions. With letting go of things I thought I needed to hold on to.

And maybe you’re in that space right now—where something feels like it’s slipping through your fingers, and you’re not sure if it’s loss or liberation. Maybe you’re watching something fall apart, and you can’t tell if it’s God breaking it…or breaking you out of it.

But here’s what I’ve come to believe: God doesn’t remove things to leave us empty. 

He removes them to make room. Room for healing. Room for truth. Room for Him.

So Before we move on, lets pause for a moment and do a little heart check on ourselves:

5 Heart Questions to Help Determine if my Heart is Currently wandering:

1. What do I run to first when I feel anxious, lonely, or empty? 

   Do I run to prayer and the Word, at the feet of Jesus—or distraction, comfort, control?

2. Do I give God credit for the good in my life—or do I assume I earned it? 

   Do you find yourself praising the gift more than the Giver?

3. Is obedience optional in my walk with God—or essential? 

   Are you following Him only when it’s convenient?

4. Do I feel more connected to my calling—or to the One who called me?

Has ministry, success, or influence replaced intimacy with the Lord?

5. When was the last time I was truly still before Him—without an agenda? 

   Have you been busy for God but distant from Him?

So here’s the question this moment brings: What am I still holding on to that God might be removing—not to wound me…but to wake me up from my false pursuits?

Once the Stripping has done its work on the wandering heart, this is the third movement of grace to bring that wandering heart back to Himself in pure and loving relationship again…

3. Wooed (v.14)

“Therefore, behold, I will allure her, bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her.”

This is the part that surprises me about God…

This verse is layered with movement and intention: allure, bring, speak. It’s not passive—it’s pursuit.

And it’s not harsh—it’s healing.

After EVERYTHING—after ALL the rebellious pursuits of Gomar, after the loss, after the stripping away—you’d expect God to be done. To walk away. To stay silent … But He doesn’t. Instead, He says, “I will allure her.” Not accuse her. Not shame her. Allure her.

He leads her into the wilderness—not to punish, but to be alone with her and to speak tenderly to her.

That word—tenderly—it changes everything…

The wilderness isn’t rejection. It’s invitation … It’s where the things that got in the middle of you and God are now removed and God gets close again. The place where He starts whispering tender and loving words to the heart.

Over the past 22 years of my Christian life, I’ve had many wilderness seasons. 

Times when everything familiar was gone, and I thought God had gone quiet too. And I mistook that quietness as rejection, as abandonment, as wrath!!! … But now I see it differently. He wasn’t absent. He was being intentional. He was drawing me in. Not with force. But with tenderness.

And maybe that’s where you are today. Not forgotten. Not stuck. Just being led into a quieter place — just so you can clearly hear Him again.

So as much as you feel the wilderness may suck and you just want things to go back to the way things were, don’t rush out of the wilderness. Don’t resent it. Instead lean in. Because this might be the moment He’s been waiting for—to speak tenderly to you. 

So if you’re hearing this message and are ready to receive it—lean in. Let the silence become sacred … Let His whisper be enough.

And if you’re hearing this and still wrestling, unsure what to do with all this—that’s okay. God’s not in a hurry. 

He’s patient with your process, and He’s not going anywhere.

And lastly, if you’re hearing this message and your flat out rejecting this altogether—if it feels too far, too gentle, or too unreal—just know this: God doesn’t flinch at your resistance. He stays. He waits.

And when you’re ready, you will find Him still whispering.

Because His love doesn’t depend on your readiness. It’s already here. Already reaching. Already pursuing you with relentless grace!

So with that said, let me remind you of what’s true—no matter where you stand right now:

You are loved. You are being pursued. And you still belong to Him.

“But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8

That means—while we were still running, still resisting, still reaching for things that couldn’t hold us—Jesus didn’t wait for us to get it right. He came for us. He didn’t flinch at our mess. He didn’t hold back His mercy.  He stepped into the wilderness of our lives and gave Himself fully.

That’s the kind of love we’re talking about. Not earned. Not fragile. Not conditional.

It’s the love that finds you in the middle of your undoing and says, “I’m not leaving.” … So as you walk out of this place today, don’t just feel inspired by God’s awesome pursuing love—feel invited to that love also.

Invited to trust again. To surrender again. To believe again. Because the gospel isn’t just good news. It’s YOUR Good news. Meeting you right where you are. Right here. Right now.

Let’s Pray …

“Father, Thank You for loving us with a love that doesn’t quit. For pursuing us even when we’ve wandered, for whispering truth even when we’ve stopped listening. Thank You for the wilderness—not as punishment, but as a place where You draw us close again. Today, we choose to turn back. To stop running. To stop resisting. To stop reaching for things that can’t satisfy. We return to You—not just with words, but with our hearts, our trust, our surrender. Help us live differently because of this moment. To lean into silence, to listen for Your voice, to walk with You even when the path feels unfamiliar. Let this not be just another message we hear—but a truth that transforms us. We receive Your love, we rest in Your grace, and we respond with our lives. In Jesus’ name, Amen.“

By: Angelo Shamoon ACBC, CBC