You have it in you (3)

Have you ever had to take a leap of faith for someone you loved? If not a physical move, then a move of the heart? Have you ever had to choose between playing it safe and walking in uncharted territory? I know I have, and even though I had moved many times before, this last time stood out. Moving day was finally here—time for us to leave North Carolina and head back home to Texas. My adult children and their spouses and kids were moving with my husband and me. Together, we had spent the last forty-eight hours in a hurricane of movers, boxes, tape, and especially my babies. Each of us, in our own way, showed the strains of what-inthe-world-is-going-on syndrome. This was especially hard for me, because I’m usually the stabilizer, trying to make sure everyone is doing well. My grandson Jaden’s tear-stained face reinforced his sweet but weary voice when he said, “I’m tired, GeGe. I didn’t take my nap.” As with all of us, his usual routine had been shattered. Finally it was time to turn off the lights and leave the place that we had known as home for so many years. As my daughter Lana and I flipped the basement lights out, she noticed in the corner her beautiful little daughter, Kenzie, who had found a crib mattress that somehow didn’t make it onto the moving truck. She sat there with her sad-girl face, leaning against the wall. I said, “Kenzie, what’s wrong, baby?” She mumbled, “I don’t want to leave.” Lana fell on the crib mattress next to her and unleashed a gallon of long overdue, locked-up tears. Seeing my two beautiful girls sitting there crying made me cry! There we sat, three generations of crybabies, huddled in a nearly dark, boxed-up basement. So we just let ourselves have a moment! Finally, we headed upstairs and made a dash for our vehicles in the midst of an unbelievable, torrential rainstorm—even the sky was crying that night. As I was trying to get the car turned around, I noticed my headlights shining on the dumpster we had rented for discarding trash and debris. We had sent anything worth salvaging to Goodwill, so everything in the dumpster was either broken or beyond repair. It was now overflowing, and there on top was Jaden’s first set of drums. A born drummer, my grandson had progressed from toy drums and was now on his second set of real drums—but who’s counting! In the blink of an eye, the dumpster became a stage and my headlights became spotlights focused right on Jaden’s drums. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks: we were leaving them behind! In fact, I was leaving a whole era of my life behind. Between the tears and the ridiculous rain, I don’t know how we made it out of there in one piece. I felt as if I was driving away from the best ten years of my life—not to mention my eighty-two-year-old mother, who I was leaving wrapped up warm in the arms of my sweet sister, just a few miles down the road. Zipping in and out for those “I need my mommy” moments would not be so easy from Dallas. Tears of pain and pleasure streamed down my face. As the joy and sorrow poured out of me, I couldn’t tell which tear was which. I could only say, “Lord, my heart is full of gratitude!” I was grateful for faithfulness, family, and future, resting in the knowledge that at that moment God had plans for us under the lock and key of his sovereignty. Whether you’re familiar with Ruth’s story or not, I believe we all know how scary it can be to move from one place to another. It’s not just exchanging the familiar for the unknown; moving forces us to look within ourselves and find more strength than we knew we had, more courage than we’ve ever displayed before, and more faith in the goodness of our loving Father than we’ve ever had to show. Sometimes we have to move in order to survive. Even when it’s too risky, it’s still tempting to stay where we are. You don’t have to take the promotion; you can just stay with the position you have and the job security that it provides. If you go up the ladder at work, there’s always a chance you could fall even further if you fail. But can you live with the questions that will forever gnaw at your peace? The questions that will creep into your mind at the end of the day as you’re attempting to sleep: I wonder if I would have been even more successful if I’d taken that job? I wonder if our family would’ve been happier if we’d moved? What if God had something special for me in that new place that I was too afraid to take hold of? What if I’ve missed a blessing by being blinded by my fears? Each of us has a choice every day either to remain in the Moab of our lives, the place with people just like us, the place where we’ve always belonged, the place that makes no real demands on us, or to embark on a journey of faith into a new country. Naomi was compelled to return to her homeland because of the dire circumstances she experienced in Moab, but her daughter-in-law Ruth clearly had a choice. Or did she? Reading between the lines, I think something in her said, Why should I sit here and die when I can leave here we’ve ever displayed before, and more faith in the goodness of our loving Father than we’ve ever had to show. Sometimes we have to move in order to survive. Even when it’s too risky, it’s still tempting to stay where we are. You don’t have to take the promotion; you can just stay with the position you have and the job security that it provides. If you go up the ladder at work, there’s always a chance you could fall even further if you fail. But can you live with the questions that will forever gnaw at your peace? The questions that will creep into your mind at the end of the day as you’re attempting to sleep: I wonder if I would have been even more successful if I’d taken that job? I wonder if our family would’ve been happier if we’d moved? What if God had something special for me in that new place that I was too afraid to take hold of? What if I’ve missed a blessing by being blinded by my fears? Each of us has a choice every day either to remain in the Moab of our lives, the place with people just like us, the place where we’ve always belonged, the place that makes no real demands on us, or to embark on a journey of faith into a new country. Naomi was compelled to return to her homeland because of the dire circumstances she experienced in Moab, but her daughter-in-law Ruth clearly had a choice. Or did she? Reading between the lines, I think something in her said, Why should I sit here and die when I can leave here
and live? What did Orpah miss by not trekking to Bethlehem with her sister- and mother-in-law? What—or whom—would she have discovered in the grain fields of the future? The afternoon sun beat down on her back as she stooped to gather the grain that had been spilled in the fields of Naomi’s kinsman, Boaz. He had been so kind to her, so gentle, so different from what she expected. She had bowed her head in respect and kept her eyes lowered, but he had spoken to her directly, treating her not like a foreigner, a Moabite, but like a real person, like a woman. His workers also treated her with the same kindness and respect, offering her water to drink. She suspected they even were spilling more grain than usual just so she would be able to gather plenty. She dared not say it out loud to Naomi, but Ruth felt a new hope in her heart, a new dream taking shape. Could it be that in this foreign land with the Hebrews her heart could find a home? In the quiet of the evening, or sometimes when she was alone in the f ields, she would hear the Lord speak to her. He was unlike any god she had ever encountered back in Moab, but she was glad. This God was real. And he cared about her and Naomi. Ruth knew that he was the reason they had a place to live and food to eat. She gave thanks in her heart. (Ruth 2)
Have you ever noticed the way God provides for us when he challenges us to make moves in life? It may not be easy and we may get weary, and even exhausted, from the journey, but when we follow him, our Father will always sustain us. Just as God promises to remain with us, he also promises to take care of our needs. Whether it’s manna for our daily bread or crumbs for the sparrows, our Father loves to provide life-giving gifts for his children. Ruth’s story reveals even more of God’s provision as the two women settled into the community and discovered that one of Naomi’s relatives by marriage, Boaz, was a wealthy landowner with many fields of grain. Can you look back on your life and remember the times God has provided for you and your family? Ways he has surprised you with unexpected blessings at times of extraordinary need? When we stay in familiar places, it’s so tempting to get in a rut and overlook all that God gives us. We start taking things for granted—our homes, our jobs, our families, our health. But when we’re following God’s call on our lives, we’re forced to rely on Him for everything. We’re forced to recognize the many ways he provides even the smallest things for us. Having moved several times in my life, I’ve come to appreciate what it means to discover things that I can so easily take for granted—a grocery store close to my house, a good dentist, a good school nearby when my children were young, natural beauty unique to each particular setting. What have you been taking for granted in your life? If you were to pause and make a list of a dozen things that you’re especially grateful for today, what would you put on it? Fresh strawberries? A car that runs? The ability to walk around the block with your child? A job you enjoy? A family who loves you? I challenge you to make such a list and consider the “spilled grain” that God is currently scattering into your life! Ruth crouched in the shadows near the rear corner of the threshing room. The place smelled of wheat and barley, a rich, earthy scent that held the promise of nourishment and life. She couldn’t believe she was actually acting so boldly—surely she would never have been so bold back in Moab. When she had met Naomi’s son back home, it had been so easy, so natural. Yes, he was a foreigner, but he seemed to know her so well. Now, she was doing something she had never done before. She was taking such a huge risk, going against what others (even those back home) would consider proper. But somehow this entire move had been about taking risks, about following the voice of her new God, the one who continued to provide for her and talk her through the risky places in life. Was it really possible that he might give her this handsome, kind man as her second husband? Could she really be so blessed to have two men in her life love her with such care and tenderness? She remained quiet, hidden in the darkness, as Boaz finished eating and drinking and reclined on a pallet on the floor only a few feet away from her. Soon his even breathing and tiny snores were the only sounds in the room. Only the moonlight streaming in a high window allowed her to see him sleeping so peacefully. Silently, she tiptoed to the end of his pallet and knelt down. Lifting the light wool blanket, she uncovered his feet and then reclined on the floor beside them. Was it possible to love someone she had only just met? She must have drifted off. Now she had heard something, a sound like a man’s voice. Where was she? Oh, no! Ruth remembered as she looked up at Boaz only to find him wide awake, staring at her. “Who are you, woman? And what are you doing here?” he asked her in his deep, soft voice. “I am your servant, Ruth,” she whispered and removed the veil covering most of her face. “As the kinsman-redeemer of Naomi’s family, please cover me with your garment.” He hesitated and Ruth thought she heard him making a sound like laughter. Finally, Boaz said, “You have blessed me and must be a gift from the Lord. You may stay here until morning and then we will sort things out.” Ruth breathed a sigh of relief and felt tears well up in her eyes. The presence of the Lord was there in the room with the two of them. She was exactly where she was supposed to be. (Ruth 3)