Naomi, you can't get rid of me!

     I wonder if Ruth ever cast a tentative glance back toward the land of Moab. Did she ever question her decision to “goest where thou goest”? As resolute as her decision was to leave everything behind to go with her mother-in-law, it seems like there would be times afterward where she might have re-evaluated her choice of making this “bitter” woman her new best friend. Maybe Ruth didn’t agonize over these things too much, and maybe that is why she was worth 7 boys to Naomi. Maybe she only allowed herself to shed so many tears for her mom and pop back home, and looked straight ahead and attended to the task at hand (survival!). But even though we know her decision had the seal of God’s approval, it could not have been a stress-free environment for this tenderhearted Moabitess.

     Choices are fickled things. Are they not? When I try to draw some conclusions about them, part of me says I would like to see the result of my choices right away, as when the curtain is raised up on those glitzy game shows, and instantly the contestant knows if they are a proud owner of a new ca-arrr, or if they just got themselves a functional toaster oven. The other part of me says that it is okay that choices slowly play out. We know that in the throes of military action the results of choices are often quickly brought to light. You took a wrong turn, and now the comrade at your side has a bullet through his chest. Bad choice; now you know; the price is dear.

     Sometimes our choices demand more of us than we bargained for, and the weight lays heavily on our shoulders, such as the caretaker of a sick person on a “bad” day, or a mother who has just answered the same question for the umpteenth time, or the chain smoker next door, who, in his own ashen faced way is trying to shovel the snow out of his driveway. In all these situations, an individual might be tempted to examine the original point that brought them to that land of toil, and lament that they turned right at the fork-in-the-road instead of left.

     I am no Ruth, but I want to take a page out of her book; I want to learn from her example. I am sure the folks back in the land of Moab thought she was mad for the decision she made- thought that she was throwing away her chance to have a legacy, to have kids and a family. But what did they know? She grasped hold of the true God in that strange land that she found herself in, and thrived. We know how this story played out. How she became the ladylove of Boaz, how she became interconnected with the human chain that produced the likes of King David, and later heralded in the promised messiah. We know the decision she made to accompany Naomi was not stupid! It was not rash! It was a good, solid decision that brought blessing and transformed the lives of those closely associated with her. Naomi did not die calling herself Mara. That is something. Isn’t it? And I say, since we have such a cloud of witnesses that have gone before us, like this gal Ruth, let us run! run! run! the race marked out for us, and trust that our God brought us to Himself and this land for a reason.