When Boaz had finished eating and drinking and was in good spirits, he went over to lie down at the far end of the grain pile. Ruth approached quietly, uncovered his feet and lay down. Ruth 3:7

Have you ever taken a step of obedience so large that halfway through, you suddenly wondered, What am I doing? How did I get here?  Faith can carry us into landscapes that feel foreign, vast, and strangely quiet — the kind of places where our confidence trembles and our questions grow loud.

We’ll never know if Ruth had these thoughts as she took her place at the foot of Boaz’ sleeping place. Surely she had some level of apprehension. Would he scold her? Would he feel embarrassed by her act of intimacy? Would he send her away, thereby severing any hopes of redemption? Would he lose respect for her? Would he withdraw his offer to allow her to gather grain from his fields? Personally, there was a lot at stake. There always is when we answer God’s call.

We’ll never know if Ruth felt that quake of uncertainty as she approached the threshing floor and lay at the feet of Boaz. Scripture is silent about her inner world that night, but we can imagine the tremor of human apprehension beneath her obedience. Would he misunderstand her? Would he feel exposed, or embarrassed?  Would he interpret her gesture as dishonorable? Would he send her away and dismantle any hope of redemption? Would this singular act undo all the fragile favor she had found in his fields?

Ruth carried far more than barley to that place — she carried the weight of two women’s futures. There is always something at stake when we say yes to God.  Obedience has a way of escorting us beyond the edges of our comfort. Henry Blackaby calls this a “God-sized task.”  It is too much for human strength, too steep for natural skill, too intricate for our own networking or ingenuity. No wonder it intimidates us. God-sized assignments press on nerves we do not possess and require capacities we have not yet developed. They compel us to put our radical trust in God.

I once insisted I was unqualified to lead a ministry. I told God I wasn’t leadership material. I felt small under the shadow of others’ opinions. I had no vocabulary for the woman I would become when loved into wholeness. I was certain God had chosen the wrong person. But now I see that He wasn’t looking for the most polished leader.  He was looking for someone willing, someone who would trust His shaping hand more than her own limitations.  And across the decades, Scripture has whispered this assurance.   “The One who calls you is faithful, and He will do it.” 1 Thess. 5:24

Father, nothing is hidden from Your sight.  Not the obstacles, not the timing, not the weight of what You’ve asked. Guide me with Your wisdom and anchor my courage in Your faithfulness.
Amen