Then she fell on her face, bowing to the ground and said to him, “Why have I found favor in your sight that you should take notice of me, since I am a foreigner?”  Ruth 2:10

Ruth knew she didn’t belong. Though Boaz invited her to “make herself at home,” her heart struggled to comprehend his generosity. His kindness defied logic, and the invitation challenged every scar of rejection she carried. It was too much, too soon, too undeserved. Surviving on scraps had trained her to expect limits.

Years ago, our family moved to a small town in New Jersey and began attending a local church. We began to learn names and faces.  One Sunday, I learned that a young mother nearby was sick with walking pneumonia. Wanting to reach out, I simmered a pot of homemade spaghetti sauce all day and brought dinner to her door. She met me with confusion as I stood awkwardly on her doorstep. “Who are you?” she asked. When I explained that I was new in town and wanted to show her the love of Jesus, she said, “But what do you really want? Nobody does this kind of thing for nothing.” Her disbelief was written all over her face. She was clearly not comfortable accepting the meal but I’m happy to tell you that she finally did and a friendship was born.

I saw myself in her. For years, I was skeptical of God’s love. Each time He offered it, I kept waiting for the fine print, something that would prove that I was right to keep my guard up. Grace felt like a trick. But over time, His patience outlasted my resistance. I finally understood that there was no catch. Worthiness was a gift!

It still is.  No divine gift becomes mine until I receive it by faith. The generosity of God is not earned, negotiated, or measured.  It is offered. It is a gift but it remains unopened until my heart reaches out to take it. Jesus stands at the door, not with empty promises but with a banquet prepared at great cost—the bread of His body, the wine of His covenant, the feast of redemption that satisfies every hunger of the soul. His invitation is not tentative; it is sealed by His blood and extended to all who will come.  But I must move beyond the skepticism that whispers, “This cannot be for me.”

Today, I come not with suspicion but with wonder. Amen