“Stay here for the night, and in the morning if he wants to redeem, good; let him redeem. But if he is not willing, as surely as the LORD lives I will do it. Lie here until morning.” Ruth 3:13

Scripture gives us no window into Ruth’s thoughts, but we can imagine the long hours that stretched before her. Perhaps she slept little. Perhaps she turned from side to side, rehearsing possibilities, battling anxious thoughts. Perhaps silent tears traced her cheeks as she wondered what her life would look like come morning.

There was nothing left to do now but wait. Morning would carry the verdict and the final decision about who would redeem Naomi’s land and take Ruth as his wife. Boaz was more than willing, yet another man stood first in line. And so this night, suspended between hope and uncertainty, could only be called the night of waiting.

Waiting can be excruciating. Our minds tend to invent the worst-case scenarios, as if anticipating disaster could somehow shield us from it. Someone once wrote, “If God is not worried, why should I?” A comforting sentiment, yes, but difficult to swallow when emotions churn louder than the truth. My heart is far noisier than the quiet reality where Christ actually dwells. But feelings, for all their volume, can be illusions.

Spiritual truth must be my compass in the fog.  When fear threatens to undo me, I return to what is immovable: I am engraved on the palm of His hand. I am the apple of His eye. He saves those crushed in spirit. He rescues because He delights. He is sovereign over both the present moment and the unfolding future.

Do these truths make any real difference to a trembling heart? They do. They reorient me. They steady me. A waiting room is exactly that—a place between what has been and what will be. The chairs are uncomfortable, the atmosphere tense. But it is temporary. Morning is on its way, and the One who carves out the dawn is the same One shaping my destiny.

I don’t want to just mark time in the waiting room. I want to remember it as time spent with You, time that formed me and quieted me.  Amen