season 2 // episode 7 // how can I see God's goodness in my life?
SHOW TRANSCRIPT
There is a woman in Scripture who I hope you already know, but if not, I want to introduce you to her. Her name is Ruth, which means “friend.” During an already difficult time in which the land of Judah was experiencing a famine, Ruth’s husband, brother-in-law, and father-in-law all die. This leaves Ruth, her sister-in-law, and mother-in-law as widows with no means of providing for themselves. There is a reason why Scripture says in multiple places that God cares for the orphan and the widow. Women could not simply go out and find a job during this time period. There were no options for them in the workplace; they simply didn’t exist. They relied solely on the provision of the men in their lives, be that a father or a husband. Naomi, Ruth’s mother-in-law, begs each of her daughters-in-law to return home to their parents, as they are still young and could find husbands that could care for them. But Ruth makes an unthinkable and radical decision—to stay with and care for her mother-in-law.
Ruth’s husband was from Judah, and he married her when they sojourned to Moab to find food during the days of famine. Thus, Ruth was a Moabitess, a foreigner to the Israelite ways and the Law of God. However, God still had a plan for her, even in the midst of her uncertainty and longing. Ruth’s decision to stay with her mother-in-law was one of great courage and sacrifice. There was no guarantee that they would be cared for, in fact, everything in their situation suggested the opposite. Ruth may have had prospects back home waiting for her, but there weren’t many with her mother-in-law. But for some reason, she stayed. And not only did she stay, but she boldly declared that, “Your people shall be my people, and your God my God.” (Ruth 1:16)
In Ruth 2, we see Ruth begin to do the only thing she knows to do—take action steps. Naomi informs her of a wealthy relative who “just so happens to be an eligible bachelor,” and Ruth goes to his field to glean after the reapers have gathered all they can. Leviticus 23:22 says, “When you harvest the crops of your land, do not harvest the grain along the edges of your fields, and do not pick up what the harvesters drop. Leave it for the poor and the foreigners living among you. I am the LORD your God.” (NLT) God made a way for the vulnerable to be cared for through the provision of those with means. What a kind and gracious God we serve!
Meanwhile, Boaz takes note of Ruth’s work ethic and begins to inquire about her, ensuring she was taken care of. As they begin to get to know one another, Ruth’s boldness increases with the nudging of her mother-in-law. No doubt Naomi wanted Ruth to find a life of her own. She understood the great sacrifice Ruth had made to continue to live by her side, and she wanted her to know the blessing of marriage once more. Through gentle, yet direct nudging, Naomi gives Ruth very specific instructions about how to win the heart of Boaz, and he responds favorably.
After bathing and putting on her best perfume, Ruth meets Boaz on the threshing floor. Through submitting to her mother-in-law, she is taking a huge risk. She knows she could be seen by someone else, yet she goes. She knows he could reject her, yet she goes. Boaz was a man of great means who protected his property—thus, he slept at the threshing floor to deter thieves from attempting to steal his grain. When Ruth visits him there, she is not doing anything scandalous, but rather seeking out what is hers by right. You see, Boaz was a goel, or “kinsman redeemer.” A kinsman redeemer was a relative who was responsible for marrying a childless widow so as to uphold and extend the family lineage and name. This was a very important part of Jewish culture, and Ruth desperately needed the provision a husband could offer. Naomi’s knowledge of Boaz as the kinsman redeemer was just another way God showed His kindness and faithfulness to these women in their time of need.
When Ruth approaches Boaz, she uncovers his feet and lies down. This seems untoward and inappropriate in our culture, as though there is a sexual motive. But nothing could be further from the truth in this instance. One commentator states,
In that day, this was understood to be the role of a servant — to lay at their master’s feet and be ready for any command of the master. So, when Naomi told Ruth to lie down at Boaz’s feet, she told her to come to him in a totally humble, submissive way.
Don’t lose sight of the larger picture: Ruth came to claim a right. Boaz was her goel, her kinsman-redeemer, and she had the right to expect him to marry her and raise up a family to perpetuate the name of Elimelech. But Naomi wisely counseled Ruth to not come as a victim demanding her rights, but as a humble servant, trusting in the goodness of her kinsman-redeemer. She said to Boaz, “I respect you, I trust you, and I put my fate in your hands.”
Put yourself in Ruth’s shoes for a moment. You have moved to a foreign land—the home of your deceased husband. You are sojourning with your mother-in-law and have no way of providing for yourself. A kind and generous man of means has helped meet your daily needs. At your mother-in-law’s suggestion, you decide to take a bold step by staking a claim at the right to be redeemed and provided for. There is just one problem: you are a foreigner—in fact, the Law prohibits Jews from marrying people like you. But you’ve been paying attention, and you have seen your mother-in-law’s God, who you now claim to be yours as well, take care of you in personal and heartfelt ways.
When Ruth went to the threshing floor that evening to lay at Boaz’s feet, she was in a vulnerable position. She had nothing to offer but herself, and she had no idea whether that would be enough. She had no dowry and nothing of monetary value that would make her a “good catch.” But her heart was teachable, and her character shone through. After an incredibly difficult season of loss, sorrow, and poverty, Ruth needed a kinsman redeemer to step in and care for her. Just as Ruth needed a kinsman redeemer who would fight for her and claim her as his own, I found myself in need of someone who would do the same for me. To say, “You can’t live like this anymore. There is a better way.”
After a whirlwind romance, Rory and I were fortunate enough to vacation in Aruba for our honeymoon. It was as lovely as it sounds. His parents gave us a stay at a beautiful place along with airline tickets, and we just had to show up and eat, sleep, and enjoy the scenery.
Just a couple days into what should have been newlywed bliss, I found myself lying in bed next to Rory on our king-sized bed in our beautiful vacation villa, thinking to myself, “What have I done? Do I even know this man? Am I crazy? I am supposed to be married for the rest of my life to him and I haven’t even known him for a year?!” Fear-filled thoughts ran through my mind like a hamster on a wheel. The terror and the dread were all-consuming. What if I had just made the biggest mistake of my life?
As Rory and I grew closer through our dating, engagement, and eventually marriage, the Lord began to reveal to me some unhealthy patterns of behavior within my life. Rory was the first person to see through my coping mechanisms that presented themselves as behaviors such as overachieving, perfectionism, and busyness that were rewarded by the praise of others. Contrary to what it looked like on the outside, the motive behind those behaviors didn’t always lie in a desire to serve and pour out. All my life, I was searching for something that I already had—the unconditional love of my Heavenly Father. I wouldn’t have readily admitted it, but my heart craved the attention and approval of man and was eager to allow it to define me. During our first year of marriage, I was still teaching school at my dream job. But there were things that had begun to surface in our dating and engagement that were still attempting to unearth themselves in our early days of marriage.
Early on in our dating days, Rory and I were talking, and he said to me, “You’re taking care of everyone else. Who is taking care of you?” His honest appraisal of my life disarmed me. I hadn’t considered that I needed to be taken care of. If something needed to be done, it was up to me to do it. That’s just the way I thought it was and that it always would be.
During the honeymoon period of a relationship, we are putting forth our best selves. We are portraying an air of confidence and behaving well—with kindness, patience, and perhaps an easy-going and unflappable demeanor. But the honeymoon phase, while fun and exciting, can only last for so long. The real value of a relationship is proved in the hard times and the fire. This is true not only for our relationships here on earth, but also for our relationship with God.
During the first year of our marriage, I felt completely raw, vulnerable, and exposed. The heart of marriage is the understanding that you are in a place where you can fully be yourself. But this new role as a wife left me feeling displaced and uncertain. It felt as though I was on foreign soil within the terrain of my heart. The honeymoon period is often characterized by great shows of affection and a lack of conflict as both parties attempt to appease the other in an effort to be seen as kind and accommodating. As my role shifted from girlfriend to fiancé to wife, I realized that I was going to have to bring my whole self to the table. But who even was that whole self? Apart from my busy life pouring out as a teacher, serving at church, hanging out with friends, and running half marathons, who was I? The more I let Rory in, the more he began to see through the cracks of the carefully crafted image I had allowed others to see.
When Rory and I first met, I was still a young and naive girl in so many ways. I may have been 27 years old biologically, but in many ways, I felt like I was still a teenager, floundering about and trying to find her way. The image I had crafted of the Good Christian Girl was beginning to crack as I realized that in order to be in a genuine relationship with someone, I had to be myself—fully. That meant I couldn’t resort to busying myself or hiding away when something was wrong. I had to be able to talk through my emotions and be honest with myself, with him, and most importantly, with God.
Seven months into our relationship, we were in the throes of wedding planning. Something had gone terribly wrong, and I could no longer hold it together. I called Rory, crying and upset about how overwhelmed and hurt I was feeling. He dropped what he was doing and came over to my house, ready to help me sort through the many emotions that threatened to hold me captive. The tears just kept flowing, and he sat there stunned for a little bit, unsure of how best to comfort me, but offering kind and gentle words of affirmation to help me know I wasn’t alone.
After seven months of seeing each other nearly every day, talking on the phone, texting, going on dates, dreaming and planning for the future, this was the first time Rory saw me cry. The thought of making him uncomfortable and feeling vulnerable and exposed was enough for me to keep my tears to myself up until that point. Somewhere inside was a fear that I wasn’t able to voice—“Would he love me if I wasn’t strong and capable?” Further still, “Would God love me if I wasn’t strong and capable?” This fear harkens back to the question Rory so sweetly and gently asked me early on in our relationship— “Who is taking care of you?”
Did you know that there are ten types of smiles? There are various distinctions between the looks we give others when we use our muscles to smile. A smile is a universal sign to others, and it can communicate many different emotions, moods, and thoughts. A “polite smile” is used when you first meet someone. A “dominance smile” is used to communicate superiority to others and is more of a sneer. The gold standard of smiles, however, is the Duchenne smile—the smile of genuine enjoyment. “This smile involves the mouth, the cheeks, and the eyes simultaneously. It’s one where your whole face seems to light up suddenly.”
One day, when looking at pictures of myself prior to when we met, Rory said to me, “That’s not your real smile.” I didn’t know what he meant—I thought I looked happy in the picture. But he didn’t let it go and further insisted—“That’s not your real smile. You don’t even look truly happy there. You look like you’re in pain.”
As I looked closer at photos—all before we met—it was like a veil was lifted from my eyes. All my life, people had complimented me on my smile, telling me that it lit up a room and made them happy. But as I looked closer, I saw the truth—I was smiling with my mouth, but my eyes had no life in them. I had a “polite smile,” one that helped me “maintain a discreet distance between people.” For 26 years, I had unknowingly walked around with a mask on—the mask of the Good Christian Girl. But it didn’t take long for my discerning husband to be able to see that there was more than met the eye. I wanted to look welcoming, but I wasn’t ready to fully take off the mask until his apt observation brought a much needed clarity and depth of understanding.
After meeting my would-be husband, you couldn’t wipe the smile off of my face most of the time. People said I was always smiling, and I think it is because I was beginning to be honest with myself, others, and God. I was beginning to see the beauty and necessity of being known by Him and by others in a way that transforms you and doesn’t leave you the same as before.
Sweet sister, if we base our identity and security on being able to be strong, capable, and available to everyone, we are setting ourselves up for burnout, disappointment, and discouragement. We weren’t created to meet everyone else’s needs. We weren’t created to be all things to all people. We weren’t created to carry our burdens alone. We were created to know Him and be known by Him.
Psalm 139 beautifully illustrates the wonder of our relationship with God. He is the God of the entire universe, yet He created us with intention and care. There is no place we can go that He cannot find us. He seeks a relationship with us because He loves us. But it isn’t just about us knowing Him. Any healthy relationship is characterized by mutual care for one another. Our relationship with God is healthiest when we not only seek to know Him, but be known by Him. But what exactly does it mean to be known by God?
Let’s take a closer look at Psalm 139. David begins and ends with the same theme—being known by God.
Verse 1: “O LORD, you have searched me and known me!”
Verse 23-24: “Search me, O God and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!”
In verse 1, David refers to God as LORD, which is His Hebrew name, Jehovah, or Yahweh. The Israelites referred to God as LORD with great respect and didn’t even spell out all the letters of His name, but instead called Him YHWH. It is with this posture of great respect and adoration that David says, “You have searched me and known me!”
In the closing verses, David refers to Him as God, in this instance meaning, the God Most High. He again acknowledges that God is greater than he is, and rather than stating the fact that He has searched his heart, David begs God to look further at his heart, searching him and looking at his intentions and motives.
David acknowledges that God has searched him and known him in verse one, but at the end of the psalm, he again implores God to search and know him. Why would he ask God to do what He has already done? I believe David was aware of God’s intimate knowledge of who his inner man was because he knew he was created in God’s image. But at the end of the psalm, his posture has shifted. After he has praised God for His kindness, intentionality, and generosity, he senses his need for intimacy and true relationship with Him. The Hebrew word for “know” is yada. This word speaks of intimacy between two people, and it often speaks of the sexual union between a husband and his wife. Intimacy is often described as “into-me-you-see,” meaning that it is the basis of a relationship in which all the walls are down and the truth is revealed.
It is very easy to know a lot about God. But knowing God and allowing Him to know you are two very different things. When we are known by Him, we are not just reading our Bible to check it off of our to-do list and move on. It is not just a book of inspiration. It is the very word of God, inspired and given to us for all correction, teaching, and training in righteousness. We cannot know God if we do not know His word. But we also cannot enjoy the pleasure and richness of a genuine relationship with Him if we do not allow Him to know us.
Who knows you the best? Think about your closest relationship here on earth—perhaps a child, spouse, or a best friend. Why are you so close to that person? Is it because you love all of the same movies? Is it due to a shared experience that bonded you together? Or maybe it’s because you share the same DNA? Consider why you feel so close to this person. Chances are it is because you have spent a lot of time together. You have invested in understanding each other through conversations and experiences. Now imagine you go for an entire month without seeing each other. Would you feel close to this person then? Would you call your relationship healthy or good? We cannot allow the relationships with others here on earth to starve, or we won’t have any relationships at all. The same is true for our relationship with our Heavenly Father. Without time and intention, it will starve.
To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.
― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves
It’s so much easier to find comfort and place our best efforts at relationships with those who have skin on, isn’t it? When we are able to meet up with someone for coffee, take a walk together, or talk on the phone with another person, we foster friendship with them. But many of us are afraid to get too close to God and allow Him to see us for who we truly are, thus it is much easier to stay in the confines of a shallow relationship in which we call Him when we need Him. But friend, there is so much more to life with Him. The closest relationships we have here on earth pale in comparison to the potential relationship the God of the universe offers to us. In Psalm 16:11, David says of the Lord, “You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” David found the secret of being loved and known by God alone through time spent in His presence. He didn’t just know about God, he knew Him. In turn, David wasn’t satisfied with just knowing that God had created him and given him life. He wanted something more—the pleasure of knowing joy in His presence.
David was known as a man after God’s own heart. He is the author of the majority of the book of Psalms and was heralded as a hero of the faith because we get to see his intimate relationship with God in his honest writings that display the depth and breadth of the human experience. David didn’t always get it right, but he lived a life of repentance and found solace in knowing that the grace of God went further than the stain of his mistakes. Do you know who David’s great-great-grandmother was? Our dear friend Ruth. Ruth 4:13 says, “So Boaz took Ruth, and she became his wife. And he went in to her, and the LORD gave her conception, and she bore a son.” The last five verses of this powerful book of Scripture are the genealogy, or family line, of David, which say, “Now these are the generations of Perez: Perez fathered Hezron, Hezron fathered Ram, Ram fathered Amminadab, Amminadab father Nahshon, Nahshon fathered Salmon, Salmon fathered Boaz, Boaz fathered Obed, Obed fathered Jesse, and Jesse fathered David.” Ruth, a Moabitess widow with no children, found a place in the family line of King David, a man after God’s own heart. Later in the New Testament, Scripture tells us that Ruth and David were also in the lineage of Jesus, our risen Savior.
Consider what was at stake had Ruth not decided to stay with her mother-in-law. Ruth made the decision to know and be known by a woman who she very well could have abandoned. She faithfully served a man who she needed to notice her, not to get something from him, but just to be obedient. And as a result, God opened her previously barren womb, and from her lineage came forth not only King David, but the King of kings.
Sister, only God knows what is at stake if you choose to remain comfortable with the surface level Christianity of a Sunday morning worshiper with nothing to show for her faith during the week. And only He knows the rich reward available to you if you open yourself up to a rich relationship with Him through an honest look at your life through the power of the Holy Spirit.
This is how we live in relationship with Him—by being honest about who we are in Him and who He is to us.
Scripture
The book of Ruth
Leviticus 23:22
Psalm 139
2 Timothy 3:16
Psalm 16:11
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