This post is from Moms Take Ten episode 36, “Moms in the Bible–Naomi and Ruth”, which you can listen to wherever you listen to podcasts or at https://sites.libsyn.com/403493/moms-in-the-bible-naomi-and-ruth
One of only two books in the Bible dedicated entirely to the story of a woman, the book of Ruth is short and powerful. It is a beauty from ashes story, beginning with such sorrow and ending with much joy. At the heart of it is a relationship between a daughter-in-law and her mother-in-law. In their relationship, we see the power of God at work in our pain. He does not leave us to bear it alone but journeys with us in the heartache. He gives us space to grieve, to question, to cry, and he heals our hearts bringing us to times of dancing.
“In the days when the judges ruled there was a famine in the land, and a man of Bethlehem in Judah went to sojourn in the country of Moab, he and his wife and his two sons. The name of the man was Elimelech and the name of his wife Naomi” (Ruth 1:1-2a). While they were in Moab, Elimelech died. Her sons, of marrying age, took two Moabite women for their wives, Orpah and Ruth. Ten years into their time in Moab, both sons passed away as well. When word reached Naomi that the famine was over in her country, she made the decision to go back home. There was nothing left in Moab for her, aside from her two daughters-in-law. Recognizing that she could not provide for them, she urged Orpah and Ruth to return home to their own families and begin anew. She released them from any obligation to herself and prayed for their happiness and rest in the hopes of a new marriage. Orpah went back home; Ruth stayed. Ruth left her family and her home country with its gods and customs, and chose Naomi’s family, country, God, and customs. It would not be easy for two widows, but they were determined. God met them and provided for them in a beautiful way, bringing life where there was once only grief.
Is there anything harder than the loss of a child? It is a grief that I am scared to imagine. Parents are supposed to die before their children. That is the rule, the proper order of nature. And yet there are times, far too many times, when the reverse is true. Naomi experienced it twice. Both of her sons–gone, their lives cut short. How Naomi must have mourned.
We heard earlier this month in our foster and adoption episode of the little baby that died the night before he was going to join my friend’s family.
Another friend miscarried her baby boy at fifteen weeks, holding in her hands his little body that should have been nestled safely in the shelter of her womb.
Another friend lost her ten-month-old baby girl suddenly, leaving her twin sister wondering why she was all alone.
My uncle and aunt said goodbye to their two-year-old son after the medical issues he had been experiencing since birth finally became more than his immune system could fight.
A sweet, kind, beautiful senior at my high school was taken suddenly by an illness and died before I even knew she was sick.
A woman cried next to me at church, gripping a picture of her twenty-year-old son, looking for answers to his suicide.
Taken by illness. Taken by an accident. Taken by suicide. Taken by drugs. Taken by the hand of another. Taken from the womb. Taken in their youth. Taken as an adult. All taken too young.
The loss of a child does not only come through their death. Some experience the loss of the dream of a child through the inability to conceive. Birth parents feel great loss as they lovingly place their child with an adoptive family. Other biological parents experience loss as their children are moved into a foster family’s home. Some parents feel their children pulling away to join friend groups or lifestyles that are removed from the family. Relationships can become estranged and years can go by without so much as a text message or birthday card.
One of the things that stands out to me about Naomi is how open and honest she was about her pain. She was real. She owned her grief. She brought her questions and sorrows to the Lord.
There is a common misconception that God cannot handle the honesty of our emotions or the wrestling of our thoughts but he is not so frail or insecure in his deity. Rather, he invites us into a relationship with him that is naked and unashamed, genuine and open. As he called Adam and Eve in the garden to come out and speak with him, to stop hiding and to tell him the truth, so he calls us. The Lord wants us to draw near to him in our hurts, just as in our joys. And as we come to him with all that we are, he listens, comforts, heals, transforms, and grows us.
God can also use our pain in the lives of other people. When we share our pain with others, we invite them to be honest about their own pain. When we share our grief, we invite God into those spaces to begin his healing work. When we allow others to grieve with us, they are also able to rejoice with us at the work of God in our lives. It is not easy to share our heartaches, or to sit in the face of someone else’s.
Powerful things happen when we choose to lay down our masks, our platitudes, or fake declarations of happiness, and honestly acknowledge the struggles that we are facing. Healing happens. Deeper relationships form. Lives are changed. Joy is found. God replaces our mourning with dancing. God gives us beauty instead of ashes. And the enemy loses his power in our lives when bitterness, resentment, anger, and despair give way to a steadfast, intentional hope and peace in the God of all comfort.
Are you grieving? Is there a loss that your heart is heavy with?
I encourage you to reach out to someone today, inviting them into that space with you.
And as we end, I would like to enter into that space with you as well by reading Scripture and praying over you, asking God to meet you in your grief.
Psalm 130:1-8 NIV
Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD;
O Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy.
If you, O LORD, kept a record of sins, O Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness; therefore you are feared.
I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I put my hope.
My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.
O Israel, put your hope in the LORD,
for with the LORD is unfailing love and with him is full redemption.
Psalm 27:4-5, 13-14 NIV
One thing I ask of the LORD, this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple.
For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock.
I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living!
wait for the Lord;
be strong, and let your heart take courage;
wait for the Lord!
PRAYER:
Merciful Father,
In the despair of my agony and grief,
I cry out to you. I beg you to hear my prayers.
The most difficult thing that I do is wait.
I wait for the hurt to go away.
I wait for my heart to feel better.
I wait for my sorrow to be gone.
I wait for the situation to be fixed.
Instead, O LORD, let me wait on you.
Help me put my hope in you and your promises.
May I find peace and security in your presence.
May I find refuge and safety in your house.
Keep me safe from the trouble and pain of grief.
Turn my darkness into light.
Hide me in the shelter of your mighty love. Amen.
References:
Prayer from https://www.econdolence.com/learning-center/religion-and-culture/psalms/
Image from John Heseltine / Pam Masco / FreeBibleimages.org.
Lyssa Stoyko 