Happy Friday, July 4th, 2025! For those of us in the U.S. today is Independence Day, where America turns 249 years old. We celebrate freedom, but not all freedom comes from a declaration or a document. Some of the most powerful freedoms are the ones we fight for in our hearts: freedom from sin, shame, and the weight of our past. And sometimes, the greatest act of freedom isn’t something we receive—it’s something we give.
Today's Reading:
2 Kings 15,16; Hosea 1; Hebrews 1
Scripture
“When the Lord began to speak through Hosea, the Lord said to him, “Go, marry a promiscuous woman and have children with her, for like an adulterous wife this land is guilty of unfaithfulness to the Lord.”” (Hosea 1:2 NIV)
Observation
God tells Hosea to do something outrageous: marry a woman who will break his heart. Why? Because that’s what Israel has done to God. Hosea would see what it feels like to be God—to love someone who doesn’t love you back. The names of the children get more heartbreaking: “No Love/No Mercy,” “Not My People.” But then God whispers a promise: “One day, they’ll be called My people again.”
Application
Hosea, can you see? Can I?
God wasn’t just asking Hosea to marry someone unfaithful—He was teaching him to see differently. To see people not for their worst moment, but for who they could become if they were loved like God loves. That’s what struck me today.
It’s easy to write people off or assume they’ll never change. But God never stopped calling Israel His own, even when they acted like strangers. He saw past their rebellion to their redemption. He called them “Not My People”—and then said, “One day, they will be My children again.”
Today, as freedom is celebrated all around me, I’m reminded:
The greatest act of freedom is helping someone else find it.
I don’t want to live just enjoying the freedom I have—I want to see with the kind of eyes that fight for the freedom of others. That’s what Hosea needed to see. That’s what I need to see.
Prayer
Lord, thank you for your unrelenting love. That even when You saw me at my worst, You set me free. Please give me Your eyes—the grace to see people not by their failures, but through Your mercy. Use my freedom to help set others free. Amen.
—Chris Kiriakos