As I’ve been constantly alluding to, I want to talk about one of my new favorite Christian fiction novels, Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. This book caused a lot of controversy when its movie adaptation was released in fall 2021, but prior to that, I’d been under a rock about its existence—many Christians I’d followed proclaimed it as one of their favorite books. I’m going to talk about this and more, as well as why it has generated some (fair, in my opinion) criticism, why it still remains one of my favorites, and a note of caution if it’s something you’re interested in reading or watching.

Yeah, so to put all of that in the same sentence, it sounds like a lot of mixed signals. As I talked about in this post on the pitfalls of Christian fiction, though, there has to be some level of acceptance that these works of fiction are manmade. They’re not equal to the Bible and therefore of course won’t have its accuracy or perfection. So I want to be completely transparent in my opinion of this book—some of the things I would improve on, why it is one of my favorites despite some weak areas, and why just because it’s my favorite doesn’t mean it should be your or every Christian’s favorite book. I feel like this is important because it’s gained enough notoriety in the Christian community as a whole but especially in the Christian media landscape, so at some point or another, you’re probably going to come across it. Depending on who you read, you may be led to think it’s close to flawless or a sure thing to stay away from.

I like to think I appreciate it for what it is and what it’s trying to do and what I’ve personally been able to take away from it, rather than as the greatest work of Christian fiction ever. It is one of my favorite Christian works, though, so let’s get into it.

I’ll start by sharing my first experience ever reading it because that’s really important when discussing the potential pitfalls of this story. It was spring 2020, the heart of the pandemic. I was at home every day with my whole family. We’d run into town for errands and such, my brother’s schooling was all optional which of course meant he didn’t touch it, and at first I kept on top of mine, but I’d let it go badly after hearing it wouldn’t all be due until the end of the year. It was a rough time for us, one of those perfect storms—and despite that, I think we all did bond as much as we could have for being around each other all the time, but the reason my parents were home is because my dad had finally left a very toxic job right before this pandemic hit, not knowing what would happen with that, and my mom lost her decades-long job when her organization up and changed the education requirements for her position.

That was a time of great faith testing for all of us. That’s also a story and post in itself with how God worked through that, so we’ll cover that another time. I was also struggling with the same mental issues I had been my entire junior year of high school. If as a freshman I got more cynical, I was still battling intense anxiety at the time primarily, but then in my sophomore year, as I finally got over that, it transitioned into more long-term worries about my own future with cycles of depression. Junior year continued that pattern but I got even sadder. By that point, it’d been three years of having barely any friends from my own grade. Not having anyone to call my own or a group of people I felt I truly belonged to hurt me in ways I finally am starting to not remember as much, but I know at this time in my life, I was struggling bad. It’s when I finally decided to get on antidepressants, and that’s another story for another day.

I paint this picture because it’s important to know this is what I was dealing with going into this book. Let me also be completely, and maybe a bit embarrassingly, transparent with you about another thing. I wasn’t really reading much at this stage of my life besides the fiction assigned in English and things I’d search for out of boredom online. As you can imagine, for someone who felt lonely and bored and sad a lot of the time, it wasn’t the most wholesome content I was seeking. I probably ~skimmed~ a lot of Harlequins at this time. I still preferred more wholesome content and Christian stories the most, but they weren’t as easy to find in abundance.

Well, I remember one day looking at Karen Kingsbury’s website, and in her testimony, she mentions that Redeeming Love was one of the first Christian fiction books she’d read and loved and that it inspired her to begin her own career in that. I do remember looking it up one time before this, but at that time, I didn’t care much for historical fiction—my English classes gradually changed that. I also remembered seeing some content in it through a sample that I thought was a little risqué for Christian fiction, and I’d just be lying to you if I said that wasn’t one of the primary reasons I decided to read it in full.

So there we have it, not emotionally stable and lustful going into this novel. With a book containing subject matter like this one, I highly recommend that you do not read it if you already feel that way because it’s going to be very hard to discern the goodness the book is trying to portray. I don’t think this is all the book’s fault, but it’s something you have to be aware of because so many Christians list this book as being the one that changed their lives. I can see how it can change lives for the better, but I can also see where it causes a lot of unintentional damage.

The first time I finished it, I cried my eyes out. Not in a good way. Not the way you want someone to cry after reading a book.

I’ve made it this far without telling you the plot, so let’s do that now. You can just search for the official plot but I’m going to write it in my own words as true to the story as possible. Basically, it’s Angel’s story, who is a prostitute in the 1800s. It’s told in third person, though, so you hear from lots of characters, like the man who becomes her husband, Michael. It’s supposed to be based on the story of Gomer and Hosea in the book of Hosea in the Bible. That’s the story where God tells Hosea to marry Gomer, a prostitute, and stay with her even after she goes back to prostitution. That was to represent the love God had for Israel, who was constantly turning away from Him to go back to their old sins and idols.

Here’s where I’m going to add my own thoughts along with some of the criticism the book has faced. For one thing, it really shows the importance of knowing the Bible—you have to read and love that before anything else. I didn’t do that before I started reading, but I’m glad with time I have. That’s what has to be top of mind because just because a book is said to be based on the Bible doesn’t mean it is.

It’s never claimed that this novel is supposed to be depicting the story of Hosea, only that it’s based on it. The setting, timeframe, and characters are all fictional. The only big parallel to Hosea is that in Redeeming Love, Angel is a prostitute, and God tells Michael to marry and stay with her even when she keeps leaving him. But that’s where it stops. We don’t know much of the history of Gomer in the Bible or even how her relationship with Hosea turned out.

In Redeeming Love, the story is primarily about Angel and Michael’s lives and their backgrounds. “Israel” in the story is supposed to be Angel; Michael chooses Angel because Angel has this whole terrible history of past physical, emotional, and sexual abuse and is very bitter with God as a result, so he’s supposed to be redeeming her view of men, God, and the world. The readers, in this case, are also “Israel.” We’re supposed to see this novel as a picture of God’s love for us; Michael is loosely supposed to represent Jesus and Angel is loosely supposed to be us.

But there are some problems with this. One of the main issues is that Angel doesn’t exactly fit as a representation of rebellious Israel. Israel willingly chose to sin against God and was warned numerous times in advance. Angel, however, has this awful history of abuse, from her birth father who wanted nothing to do with her and left her mother, to being sold into prostitution when she was younger than 10 after her mother died. So while Angel may fit the picture of someone who’s sinned a lot in her life, you really start wondering how much of it is actually her fault. She was a victim when she was young, and how would she know any different once she got older? It was her choice to continually leave Michael, but even that seemed like a conditioned response. That’s not to say there isn’t any integrity on her part because she also willingly chose that at times, and we’re accountable regardless of what happens to us, but being abused wasn’t her fault, and the lines of her prostitution gets blurred with that pretty deeply.

I get why Rivers chose to include this painful history of Angel, probably in hopes to show how Christ redeems us emotionally, too, and not just from sin, but I think in the context of this story, it may have worked better with a character who willingly chose to be a prostitute or something like that. Granted, I’m not sure many people have ever willingly chosen that, but I think you get the point I am trying to make. Angel doesn’t strike me as the rebellious, evil type—more like a broken, lost soul who truly doesn’t have a clue how to help herself. This gets complicated because this is where I both like this aspect of the book but where it can also cause damage if you’re not careful.

Let’s address Michael now. While he is still supposed to be an imperfect human being, and you can catch some glimpses of that in the book, he does come very close to perfect. Obviously he has to be close to represent Jesus convincingly in the book, but as you can imagine, any time you dangle that sort of guy in front of a girl, who are you going to be thinking about if you’re not careful? The hot guy as nice as Jesus or Jesus Himself?

Now let’s get back to my emotional reaction. I know I didn’t read the book how Rivers would’ve wanted me to, and we’ve covered how I wasn’t in the right state of mind. Regardless, I was so unbelievably angry at and hurt by God after reading this book. I literally have the journal entries to prove it and I’ll share them with you some time. I was so mad because all I could think of was how, in a much looser sense, I could relate to some of Angel’s emotional abuse at least, by people I know and also with my loneliness and sense of helplessness and depression at times. There’s no doubt Angel is rightfully traumatized, and she’s got a suicidal, survival-only sort of mindset in the book. That resonated with me at the time, and rather than seeing Michael as hope Jesus offers to me, I thought of him only in the physical sense. Here this bleeding soul got someone dang near perfect to help her heal from all her trauma.

That only served to further make me feel isolated. How many times had I wished for a guy so serious in his faith to come partner with me and encourage me through the hardest season of my life? But no, I had to get through it myself. Even though the whole point of the book was to show the depths of how much God loves me, I felt the complete opposite. I felt like He didn’t love me at all, like He was content to let me suffer alone. Bless my mom and grandma, who were always there for me, but there’s still something that cuts deep about that peer loneliness—at least at that age, in particular, when it’s assumed you’re going to dances with your friends and starting to date (which, might I add, was a complete laugh at this point for me; no guys ever talked to me out of interest or even really hinted at interest/a desire to know me further, which only served to hurt me deeper both during this season of my life and after reading this book).

Do I blame Francine Rivers for any of this? No, not at all. I know that isn’t how she would’ve wanted me to feel at all, and she even has a devotion to accompany this book that I recommend, where she talks about how girls have written to her saying they long to meet a man like Michael, and she says they can because that’s Jesus.

Still, there is that danger there, especially for newer believers, to have difficulty making that connection. I mean, I was supposed to be pretty mature in my faith during the time I read this, and I didn’t make that connection initially. I had the head knowledge of it, but emotionally it was hard to swallow. I read an excellent post about the potential dangers of it here that I do think is worth a read. It doesn’t mean you have to shun the book if you like it or never read it if that’s a book of interest, but it is important to at least be aware of the potential negative reactions readers might have to it. I want you to at least prayerfully consider if it’s something that would benefit you or not. My goal when writing, of course, is to write books in a way where people don’t have to pray about whether it’s right for them or not, but then anything we consume or do should be viewed through that lens when made by sinful human beings.

With that being said, I eventually read it for more than just its intimacy scenes, and I found the story to be relatable from all characters, and I was able to mature and view the bigger picture. It’s helped me a lot in recent years with giving me encouragement, and there are two big reasons why:

Reading the Book as Angel

The idea is that we’re all “Angel,” in a way—rebellious, sinful, broken, hurt, damaged, without hope at times. Even though the book exaggerates this to try and symbolize how Israel rebelliously turned away from God, I could still relate to her despite not having an obvious, colorful past of my own with sin or abuse. That sounds arrogant, which is why I added “obvious”—I by no means am trying to say I haven’t sinned or haven’t struggled with sin; my initial reading of this book shows how I struggle with sexual sin, though I’ve never “slept around” or rebelled in that way like this character did. Still, I could relate to her pain, having dealt with trauma in my past and depression. Seeing how cynical she was (like me!) and Michael’s pragmatic, unflinching faith and hope to just tell her like it is, reminded me of everything my mom and grandma had been trying to get through to me and what I knew God Himself was trying to tell me. The book has helped me in that way.

While it certainly cannot cure your trauma (I’ve been to counseling, therapy, and a doctor numerous times, and this period of my life was what pushed me to get on meds), it can provide some very reassuring words of healing that can lay the groundwork and be reminders. One thing I love about this book is that it’s definitely relatable in that sense, versus some of Karen Kingsbury’s books, for instance, where the trauma isn’t always that bad and is covered with fluff at times. This book isn’t afraid to cut to the heart and be very real, very honest, but very hopeful about the darkest pains in our lives and God’s sovereignty over them.

Do not just read it as a romance. Read it as a bigger story that can speak to your own and the hope He provides.

Reading the Book as Michael

Michael is the other main character who is still portrayed as a sinful human being but also symbolically of Jesus as a man of deep and true faith. I will be honest and say I relate to him more. Unlike Angel, despite the pain in my faith, I was introduced to Jesus at a young age and knew I wanted Him. I’ve grown over time, despite my struggles and rebelliousness that have come along the way, but He still remains the love of my life. I’ve tried hard to please Him and do what He says, not to earn anything but because I love Him and I want what He wants for me. That’s more like Michael, who also was introduced to God in his teen years and converted wholeheartedly, though not by his family.

That’s actually one of the things I love and appreciate about Michael: she did not have him come from a Christian family. His father was greedy and cruel at times to the slaves he owned (this is historical fiction) and very manipulative and controlling towards him, and Michael eventually left home to start his own life and farm. But that didn’t lead him to despair or lose his convictions, and it shows you don’t have to be surrounded by godly people to remain true to and find joy in Him. This is also parallel to Jesus, who really only was known and loved by His Father completely. Yet He still lived a perfect life and had perfect joy despite the horrible things He went through.

The humanity in Michael is there, though, despite his strong faith, and I love that. He fights with God at times like I do, he pouts like I do, he feels and thinks deeply like I do, yet he doesn’t break completely. God talks sense into his heart, waits for his heart, and delivers ultimately even when it looks like He never will. I can relate to that so much and find so much comfort in that when I read the book. His life wasn’t easy—God tested him deeply—but it ended up being blessed richly.

All around, I am just encouraged by this book. I feel like it really did speak to hurt places of my heart, even though I initially was upset by it—again, I wasn’t reading it how it was intended. Plus, the book and any movie shows the whole picture, but our lives are in a frame of the picture. So in the book, it seems like oh, Angel got this perfect man after all, but she endured a complete childhood of hell and even several years with him of hell when she hadn’t healed yet. Same with Michael—he waited years. When you read the book, you lose sight of that. You see the happy ending and the full circle and wonder why you haven’t seen your own—but that doesn’t mean it’s not someday coming. This book is actually my top favorite to read as I wait. It gets it, and yet it gives me hope and joy now.

A Word About the Movie

Before I end this, I would like to touch on the movie, which has sparked all the controversy around the book in the first place. When I read this book, they had announced a movie would be coming, which excited and terrified me because when I fall in love with a book so much, it’s pretty much a given that the movie will never live up to that. I also wasn’t thrilled at all with their casting decisions, but I did end up liking Angel and Michael’s actors, so I got excited the year before it released; I could see it coming together.

In college, I rushed to the theater the night it debuted and had a whole review to text my mom, who also read and loved Redeeming Love (though she wasn’t without criticism of it, either). I can post that review sometime if you’re interested; the gist is this: I was disappointed thoroughly by several things, but I was happily surprised with others.

The biggest disappointment was that, and I knew this going into it, it was produced by a secular studio, and it showed. It could’ve been worse, also, especially given the nature of the book; I appreciate that they at least tried to be thoughtful with it, but I just couldn’t stand watching interviews of the two main actors who played Angel and Michael say, OVER AND OVER AGAIN, how the movie was about “believing in yourself” and NOTHING about God.

WHAT THE FRICK!!! NO!!!

I will tell you this right here and right now: if someday, God knows I hope, my books become movies, I will find a way to retain creative control, and I will screen every actor who wants to be part of the project, and I will expect that they have a dedication to Him or they can get lost on my projects. I’m not writing a meaningful, godly story only for them to blow crap up people’s butts like that. I just literally recoil when I hear that. Even thinking about it makes my skin crawl, to reduce an incredibly deep, Christian message—that could only be the answer for a story as awful as this one—to such trite and fluffy crap. And I just feel like the movie itself didn’t go into the faith elements deep enough, even though that was the whole point. But, to be fair, the movie itself skimmed the surface of a lot. I even felt like Michael and Angel’s relationship was hurried and rushed. The book was thick, so I know you can’t include everything, so just don’t have super high hopes about this being a moving Christian movie because it only has a glimpse of it. Also, it bothered me that the studio even marketed it away from that—as if love is the answer!

The WHOLE.POINT. of the fricking book with the Angel and Michael dynamics was to show that human love alone DOES NOT save your soul and erase years of trauma on its own!!!

The movie deserved all the criticism and more it received from that. The other element that bothered me, though this is more nit-picky but still important, is how they kept touting that Francine Rivers wrote the screenplay, but there was actually swearing in the movie. Not any “major” bad words, but still bad words. There weren’t any in her book, and I just don’t think that’s necessary. I get that you want to portray a degree of authenticity and yes, we’ve all heard them and that’s how people talk, but when you’re making something distinctly Christian, you don’t want to sin in the process, and that’s sinning, and I think she of all people should’ve known that.

I didn’t think the few brief love scenes were anything to get too uptight about, though. I thought those were okay and fitting. Of course, you’ll have those Christians who faint at the drop of a hat when anything “sex” is mentioned or alluded to, but my take on that is get over it, the world’s been filled with billions of people over thousands of years; how do you think they all got here. Sex in marriage is something precious and to be celebrated, but the movie did a good job of, like I said about the swearing, not necessarily sinning in the scenes with what we can see (although I’m not too certain that the guy didn’t actually put his hands over the girl’s chest…which I think should’ve been a no-no, but again, clearly that wasn’t their concern). The love scenes are a bit different from the scenes with nudity, though, and I did think there was a tad too much of that. I get that she’s a prostitute, but again, I think they could’ve been a little more thoughtful there. You have to remember that when you’re showing someone’s body, you can’t “fake it” like violence; that’s actually their body, so you actually have to still be careful what you show and don’t show.

I told my mom not to watch it unless she wanted to, and she hasn’t. I didn’t think it’d satisfy her, especially if the book meant so much. It’s definitely a “light” version of Redeeming Love.

That being said, I did buy it with my own money, and I did watch it again. There was a line in the movie, actually a couple of them, that really resonated with me and encouraged me and that I thought were very powerful, so I bought it for that. I would watch it more out of boredom than I would for comfort. It’s not my favorite movie or one I’d hold up as the pillar of great Christian cinema, but it wasn’t horrible, either. If you manage expectations, I think you can take something away from it. I was still tempted to go in the bathroom afterwards and cry because getting a man like Michael isn’t anywhere on my horizon and gosh, does life get lonely, but it’s still encouraging and hopeful all in all.

I hope this helps you decide whether the book is something good for you or not and also how it may encourage you, too. Let me know if you have any questions about my thoughts on any of this further.