Jennifer LytleIn this world you will have trouble.
After life’s desolation and destruction, Ruth and Naomi earned all star cast in the lineage of Christ Jesus, savior for humankind.
Trouble, they had.
Two unlikely women wrestled with their destiny, their lot in life. One of them refused to walk away alone. She demanded no blessing.
When death, loss, or trauma serves up a heaping load of, “What do we do, now? Where can I go from here,” there are some instances where the emotional grief must be put on hold. Often, one cannot both process grief and navigate the physical aspects of loss. When two parents turn into one, what do you do to navigate? How do you cope with the loss of income? What do you do for celebrations now? Can your family go on celebrating during festive occasions?
Loss often forces action upon its recipients far before their hearts are ready.
Naomi knew this reality well.
Famine drove Naomi’s family from their town of Bethlehem to the neighboring Moab. Moab, for whatever reason, was not as affected by the famine, but if we know anything about geopolitics, a famine in one area will ultimately have some level of affect on surrounding areas. We don’t know much more than that, but after Noami’s two sons marry, all the men in the family die within a decade. In a historical context where women were dependent upon a male for position and protection, Naomi’s loss was more than just emotional.
Yet Ruth refused to leave her.
The detail deserves our attention.
Ruth didn’t set out to get blessed by her commitment to Naomi. Instead of thinking about what she would get, she may have thought how Moab seemingly had NOTHING of interest to offer her, either physically, emotionally, spiritually, or relationally. (Pure speculation.) Naomi and her family were the best that Moab had offered her. Not even her own family was a temptation for her to say goodbye to this empty woman. The woman had something neither tangible nor practical. It was something else entirely. While there is no factual basis for such a claim, my speculation pinpoints the faith that Naomi lived out while her husband and sons were still alive. Whether it was the way she cared for the people in her family, or a quietly observed faith, Naomi had something that Ruth refused to let go of. Ruth saw something deeper than a tangible, outward blessing.
Her loyalty echoes another desperate cry found in Scripture.
Not until you bless me.
They’re the words of Jacob. Jacob, a supplanter – who stepped into the place of his brother, used by his mother’s design (see Genesis 27:5-17). Jacob, a trickster. Still, he commanded an angel to give him a blessing. This guy was desperate for blessings! He cooked a meal and traded his brother to obtain one (see Genesis 25:31-33). He dressed up and lied to his father, again for his brother’s blessing (see Genesis 27:18-27). Finally, somehow he entangled himself in a wrestling match with a literal angel (see Genesis 32:24-29).
Jacob fought out of desperation. Ruth clung out of devotion. These stories reveal that human beings recognize something sacred that must be held onto at all costs.
This Mother’s Day, Naomi’s story stands out to me because of what she chose while standing in the middle of her own heartbreak. Naomi blessed others while carrying unbearable grief herself.
Not until you bless me
A widow. A mother who lost not one, but both of her sons (see Ruth 1:21). She released her daughters-in-law with dignity and compassion. Focused on their future while her own path looked bleak, painfully uncertain. Naomi was probably confused, understandably scared, and incredibly raw. She had nothing and nowhere definitively and certainly to call home. She loosened her grip instead of tightening it. She spoke life over the two women, releasing them from any societal or legal obligation that may have otherwise been demanded of them.
Not until you bless me was not the cry of Ruth’s heart when Naomi instructed her to leave. Her famous cry, “Where you go, I will go,” was rooted in more than obligation. This promise was born out of observation of a woman whose life reflected something trustworthy, even in suffering.
Perhaps that is a part of motherhood worth honoring today.
Not perfection.
Not polished photos.
Not strength in every moment.
But faithful presence.
Together, ultimately refusing to abandon one another and go it alone, the pair found great joy and blessings. Their journey concluded so well that they are historical figures whose story continues to this day.
