Tag: naomi

Then Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, “Go back, each of you, to your mother’s home. May the LORD show kindness to you, as you have shown to your dead and to me. Ruth 1:8

Has anyone ever tried to make you pay for their pain? Because they were miserable, they wanted you to be miserable too. They couldn’t bear the thought that you might be tasting joy while they were drowning in sorrow. They set you up to have to prove that you loved them and no matter how much you poured out, it was never enough. You felt their anger rising whenever you tried to return to your life. Their unhappiness clung to you, and over time, the relationship soured in your spirit.

Naomi could have become that kind of person. She had every reason to. She was bereaved, displaced, and empty. Living in a foreign land with no husband, no sons, and no blood relatives left, she stood at the crossroads of despair and entitlement. It would have been easy for her to cling to her daughters-in-law, using guilt, grief, or manipulation to keep them bound to her side. But she didn’t. Instead, she did something remarkable. She gave them freedom. She blessed them to go. She released them from duty, knowing it would cost her dearly. It was grace—a holy generosity born from a historic trust in Yahweh.

We all know what it feels like to be tethered to someone who is perpetually unhappy, someone who plays the martyr so convincingly that we begin to believe their wholeness depends on us. They would have us become their savior, but we’re not God. We can walk beside them and hold out living water, but we cannot make them drink.

Naomi ~ someone who blesses others with freedom rather than chaining them with guilt is rare. And when God calls me to be like her, I need to remember something. Grace is transformational when I let go, when I love without control, and when I trust that the same God who cares for me will also care for those I release.

Lord, teach me when to love through sacrifice—and when to walk away in peace. Amen

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They married Moabite women, one named Orpah and the other Ruth. After they had lived there about ten years, both Mahlon and Kilion also died, and Naomi was left without her two sons and her husband. Ruth 1: 4-5

Naomi’s story seems to unravel with sorrow upon sorrow. First, after moving to a strange land, she became a widow. In her grief, she transferred her security to her two married sons. But after ten fleeting years, they too were taken, leaving her isolated and vulnerable. Only two daughters-in-law remained beside her. Though her husband’s initial concern for his family’s welfare had been commendable, he compromised their overall well-being by moving them to a place God said was prohibited. Once there, temptation bloomed, and his sons joined themselves to foreign wives.

This was the family’s second compromise. The Chaldee, the language used by sacred writers of certain portions of the Old Testament, suggests that their untimely deaths were the direct harvest of disobedience.

Compromise always bears fruit, and its bitter taste lingers. I cannot read Naomi’s story without recognizing my own. Each time I aligned myself with unholy partnerships, the fallout returned to haunt me.

*I agreed to co-write pieces of music with people I was at odds with spiritually. Songs emerged from our collaboration that I felt pressured to record.

*I signed contracts with companies, though I had serious misgivings. Those alliances birthed endless stalemates, breeding frustration rather than creativity.

*I listened to unstable voices in seasons when God’s way seemed too strange, too slow. I set aside His whisper for the counsel that thundered louder. Those choices left aftertastes I still recoil from.

Holy alliances are worth the wait. Today I seek counsel differently. I do value feedback from experts in their field but I also turn to fellow contemplatives—souls who hear God clearly and deeply. Honoring His ways, even when they stretch me, has already spared me needless pain. I move forward with a surer step, clothed not in fear of the next consequence, but in confidence that His alliances bring both peace and fruit that will endure.

Guard my steps from unholy alliances, and give me courage to trust Your strange and narrow way. Amen