Unshaken_Ruth

by Francine Rivers

  Naomi raised her head. “There’s more danger for a young woman like you than an old widow like me.”

  “There’s danger for both of us, and we’re taking every precaution. The man seems trustworthy.”

  “No one can be trusted these days.”

  Ruth picked up the bread and held it out to her again. Naomi took it and broke off a little piece, eating slowly, still frowning.

  Ruth smiled at her. “How often have I heard you say ‘the Lord watches over those who love Him’?”

  “And punishes those who reject Him.” Naomi’s eyes welled with tears, and Ruth knew she was thinking of Elimelech, Kilion, and Mahlon. Her own grief rose sharply as she thought of her husband. He’d been so young, with years ahead of him. How she wished she’d given him a child! A son to carry on his name.

  “I’m so tired,” Naomi said, her voice tear-choked. “I don’t know if I can even make it home. Those mountains, I remember them so well now. How could I have forgotten how hard the journey was?”

  “We will rest when we need to.”

  “And the caravan will go on without us,” Naomi said dismally.

  “Then we’ll join another.”

  “If we aren’t robbed and—”

  “Don’t!” Ruth said with a sob. She rose and went to Naomi, kneeling down and taking her mother-in-law’s hand. “Don’t even think of such things, Mother. If you do, we’re defeated. Think about what’s on the other side of the mountains: Bethlehem. Our home. If we dwell on all the things that could go wrong, we’ll be too afraid to take another step. Please. Tell me about the Lord again, Mother. Tell me how He fed thousands of people in the desert. Tell me how He brought water from a rock. And pray.” She wept softly. “Pray He has mercy upon us.”

  Naomi winced, her expression filled with regret. She touched Ruth’s face. “Sometimes I forget.” Her eyes were still awash with tears. “I think about what I’ve lost instead of thinking about what I have.”

  “We have each other,” Ruth said. “And we have God. That’s more than enough to face whatever comes. You taught me that.”

  “Keep reminding me.”

  They crossed the Jordan River with the caravan late the next afternoon. Naomi wilted beneath the trees on the other side. “I can’t go any farther.”

  Ruth settled her comfortably and brought some water. “Rest here while I thank Ashir Ben Hadar.” The last of the camels were crossing the river when Ruth approached the caravan owner and bowed her face to the ground. “Thank you for allowing us to travel in your company.”

  “You’re leaving the caravan so soon?”

  “My mother-in-law has gone as far as her strength can carry her. We’ll camp here by the river and continue on in the morning.”

  “A pity. We’ll be camping for the night at the oasis. You’d be safer with us.”

  “May the Lord bring you safely to your destination and bless you for your kindness toward two widows.”

  He frowned heavily. “May the Lord protect you.” Turning away, he mounted his camel, whacked the animal’s neck with a stick, and shouted orders in Egyptian to one of his servants. The camel rocked forward and then back as it came to its feet. Ruth bowed again as the man rode toward the front of his caravan. She’d almost reached the trees by the river when one of Ashir Ben Hadar’s servants ran up to her and thrust a sack and a bulging skin into her hands. “Gifts from the master,” he rasped and raced off again.

  Smiling, Ruth knelt down by Naomi. “Taste and see how the Lord provides for those who love Him.”

  Tipping the skin cautiously, Naomi took a small sip. Her eyes grew wide. “Fresh goat’s milk!”

  Ruth laughed and opened the leather, displaying the fullness of their bounty. “And raisin cakes, Mother. Enough for several days. With the grain we have left, we have enough to sustain us until we reach Bethlehem.”

  They ate and then rested as the sun slipped over the mountains behind Jericho. “It wasn’t far from here that the Lord rolled back the water of the Jordan so that Joshua could bring our people across,” Naomi said, replete and relaxed. “My mother told me when Moses went up Mount Nebo to Pisgah Peak and died, the people mourned for thirty days. Joshua was filled with the Spirit of God and led the people over there,” she said and pointed from Nebo along the way they had come, “to Acacia. He waited there until the Lord told him what to do. Joshua brought the people to the banks of the Jordan. The Lord rolled back the water, and the people crossed on dry land. My mother and father were among the people who came into Canaan that day. They camped at Gilgal and celebrated the Passover.”

  Ruth was standing beneath the shade following with her eyes the course Naomi said her people had taken. “What are the stones over there?”

  “The standing stones?” Naomi rose. “Everyone who passes by them will remember what the Lord did for His people. There are twelve, each stone carried by a member of one of the tribes who descended from our father, Jacob. Do you see where the water ripples over there? There are twelve more stones on the spot where the priests stood with the Ark of the Covenant while our people crossed over.” She stood beside Ruth, pointing back the way they had come. “Over there is the altar the sons of Reuben, Gad, and Manasseh built. The tribes on this side almost went to war over it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the tribes on the west bank thought it to be an altar for burnt offerings and sacrifices to other gods. But it stands as witness that the tribes of Reuben, Gad, and Manasseh have an inheritance in the Lord; it is a monument to remind us that we are brothers.”

  Naomi repeated the stories her father and mother had told her, until the sun went down and the stars shone. Ruth listened hungrily to everything Naomi said about the years in the desert and the mighty deeds the Lord had done to save and discipline His people. When Naomi fell asleep, Ruth looked up into the heavens and felt reassured. Surely if the Lord had watched over His rebellious people in the wilderness, He would watch over Naomi now. Ruth believed that the Lord would bring them both safely home to Bethlehem.

  The next day they walked as far as the oasis and spent the night beneath the palms. The jagged silhouette of Jericho stood out against the base of the mountains, the once-great city now blackened rubble inhabited only by lizards and snakes. However, there was a small but thriving community not far away, encamped around the spring. They earned a prosperous living from travelers using the Jericho road across the mountains to Jerusalem.

  As they began the arduous journey up the Jericho road, Ruth prayed continuously, while keeping watch for dangers along the way. God, protect us. Watch over us and guide our steps.

  A caravan came up behind them. Ruth spoke with the overseer and was given permission to camp near them the first night. She made no effort to hurry Naomi the next morning, but set her pace by her mother-in-law, even though the caravan went ahead and disappeared from sight.

  “Lord, please help us get over these mountains,” she whispered each night before she closed her eyes.

  And each day the road was steeper and more difficult, the days hotter and their supplies shorter. Naomi weakened, so Ruth took her load. When her mother-in-law became despondent, Ruth asked her questions about Bethlehem and her childhood, hoping to revive her determination to reach their destination. “Each day we’re closer, Mother.”

  “And what awaits us? Everyone I knew may be gone by now.”

  “Perhaps there will be friends you’ve forgotten.”

  “And who have forgotten me.” She wept as she often did when she was close to complete exhaustion. “I’m bringing you home to poverty. There will be no one to welcome us.” She covered her face and sobbed.

  “Look back and see how far we’ve come,” Ruth said, breathing hard beneath her burdens.

  “Look how far we’ve yet to go. Up, up, forever up.”

  Ruth looked around. There was no place to camp where they were. They had no choice but to go on. She was close to crying along with Naomi. Her back ached from carrying the full
load all day, her eyes were gritty and her throat parched. She clasped the small bottle she wore on a cord around her neck. It was filled with tears she had shed for Mahlon, a sign of her respect and love. Letting go of it, she shut her eyes tightly. “The Lord sees our sorrow, Mother. He knows our needs.”

  “Then where is He?”

  Ruth pressed her lips together to keep from crying out in frustration and despair. She couldn’t allow herself to give in to it. If she did, where would they be?

  “I can’t go on, Ruth. It’s too hard. I can’t. Just leave me here to die. I don’t care anymore. I’m too tired to care!”

  Ruth shifted the packs and looped her arm around Naomi, giving her support. “You have to go on. Just a little way. We’ll find a place and rest for the night.”

  “I’ll be just as tired in the morning. I’m sick and tired.”

  “We’ll make it, Mother.”

  “And what will be there if we do?” Naomi said bitterly, feet dragging as she leaned heavily upon Ruth. “I have no land. I have no house. I have no husband, no sons. What will be there for us?”

  Fighting tears, Ruth said, “I don’t know, but whatever it is, God will help us.”

  After that, she could speak no more. She had only strength enough to keep them moving until they found a place of rest. Oh, please, God, please help us!

  As they came around a bend in the road, Ruth noticed a large crack in the stone mountainside. “Just a few more feet,” she said, urging Naomi on. The crevice was large enough to shelter both women for the night.

  Naomi sank down with a groan and leaned back against a boulder. Ruth winced as she shrugged off her bundles and sat beside her. She rolled her shoulders to ease her aching muscles. “We’re almost to the summit,” she said, leaning her head back against the cold stone. “We will reach Jerusalem tomorrow.”

  Naomi said nothing. She was breathing heavily, her eyes closed, her face pale with exhaustion.

  Ruth rose again and unrolled the bedding. She broke the last raisin cake in half. “You’ll feel better after you’ve had something to eat.” Naomi took the food and ate slowly. Ruth saw the sheen of tears in Naomi’s eyes.

  “God willing, we will be in Bethlehem early tomorrow,” Naomi said, folding her hands in her lap. “It is only a short distance beyond Jerusalem.”

  Ruth smiled and put her hand over Naomi’s. “You’re almost home, Mother.”

  Naomi closed her eyes, but not before tears slipped down her dusty cheeks. Ruth sat closer and put her arm around her mother-in-law. Naomi leaned her head against Ruth’s shoulder, and within moments was asleep.

  Lord, Lord . . . Ruth didn’t know what to pray anymore. She was too weary to think but not to fear. Thank You for bringing us this far. Please do not leave us now.

  Ruth knew the real trial of her strength was only just beginning. With each day of travel, Naomi had become increasingly dependent upon her. Ruth did not mind, but she was plagued by worries.

  What would become of them when they reached Bethlehem?

  WITH Bethlehem so close, Naomi became eager to reach home. Rising before the sun, the two women set out on the final leg of their journey. Naomi’s strength was renewed. Ruth didn’t have to urge her on as before. “It’s not far now. Not far at all,” Naomi said. With the rising sun, they followed the road past Jerusalem. It was still morning when they entered the town of Bethlehem. Women were gathered at the well in the center of town, talking and laughing as they drew up water for the day’s household needs. They noticed Naomi and Ruth, and drew in closer together, lowering their voices. Ruth could feel Naomi’s tension. “Come, Mother. Perhaps there will be someone you know, and I need to fill the skins.”

  One woman, older than the rest, separated herself from the others. “Is it really Naomi?” She frowned heavily, tilting her head as though she couldn’t see clearly.

  Ruth touched her mother-in-law’s arm gently. “You aren’t forgotten. You still have friends in Bethlehem.”

  “It is Naomi!” She came toward her, arms outstretched. “Naomi, you have returned!”

  The women cried out in excitement, hastening toward her mother-in-law. Ruth stepped back to allow them room, giving silent thanks to God that Naomi was remembered and welcomed so warmly. Perhaps the enthusiastic greeting of these women would raise her mother-in-law’s spirits.

  “Naomi, you look as though you’ve traveled hundreds of miles!”

  “Where have you been all these years?”

  “We heard you went to Moab.”

  “What’s happened to you?”

  Ruth saw Naomi’s distress growing. Her mother-in-law looked this way and that as though seeking an escape from this throng of interrogators.

  “I remember the day you left with mules loaded down with your possessions.”

  “What’s happened to you?”

  Ruth could only imagine what her mother-in-law was thinking. Naomi was home in Bethlehem, but she was destitute. She was among friends but was clearly the object of their pity and curiosity. Aching for her, Ruth was uncertain what to do. Should she press her way into the center of the circle and try to rescue her? Or would that only make matters worse? The women had made a tight circle around Naomi, while presenting Ruth their backs. In fact, no one had given her more than a hostile glance. The women made no effort to hide their shock at Naomi’s appearance.

  “Where is your husband, Elimelech?”

  “Such a tall, handsome man.”

  The women pressed in upon Naomi from all sides, asking questions that would only stir up the grief of recent tragedies.

  “You had sons. Where are they?”

  “Surely they haven’t remained in Moab!”

  “Where are Mahlon and Kilion?”

  They were all speaking at once, their piqued interest focused on Naomi’s misery. Ruth was not surprised or hurt because the women chose to ignore her. Naomi had warned her she would not be welcome. “My people will see you as a foreigner. And worse, they’ll know you’re a Moabitess.” Everything about Ruth’s appearance declared her nationality. Her clothing was distinctive, and her skin was darker. She had no money to change the one, and no ability to change the other. It would take time for these people to accept her.

  “Don’t expect to be invited into anyone’s house,” Naomi had said. A Hebrew could not invite a foreigner inside his home without defiling it.

  “Oh, Naomi,” the women said, hearing about the death of Elimelech, Kilion, and Mahlon. “Oy, your sorrow is too much to bear!” They seemed to withdraw slightly, embarrassed, uncertain. Were they afraid Naomi’s misfortune might somehow be transferred to them if they offered her assistance? Ruth moved forward, edging her way through the women until she was close enough to Naomi to be seen.

  “Don’t call me Naomi.” Naomi cried out. “Instead, call me Mara, for the Almighty has made life very bitter for me.” She began to weep and wail. “I went away full, but the Lord has brought me home empty. Why should you call me Naomi when the Lord has caused me to suffer and the Almighty has sent such tragedy?”

  Perhaps the women had been too long separated from Naomi to share her grief. Though offering words of sympathy, they seemed ill equipped to comfort her. They stood uneasy, looking at one another, distressed and silent. Ruth moved forward again, and when Naomi’s gaze fell upon her, relief flooded her mother-in-law’s face. “Ruth, oh, my Ruth, come here to me.”

  As Ruth pressed her way forward, the women moved back from her, drawing away so she wouldn’t brush against them. They no longer ignored her, but stared openly, contemptuously. Heat poured into Ruth’s cheeks. Had the Moabites stared at Naomi the same way when she first came to Kir-hareseth?

  “This is my daughter-in-law. This is Mahlon’s widow, Ruth,” Naomi said, taking her hand. Ruth could feel how Naomi was shaking. Was this the moment her mother-in-law had most dreaded? Introducing her Moabitess daughter-in-law to her friends? Was Naomi ashamed of her? She was all the proof these people needed that at least one
of Naomi’s sons had turned away from God and taken a foreign wife. Ruth was filled with sorrow at the thought of causing her mother-in-law more grief.

  “She’s a Moabite.” The words came out like a curse.

  “By birth,” Naomi said.

  “Does she expect to stay here?” Never had Ruth felt so unwelcome.

  Naomi lifted her chin, her hand tightening around Ruth’s. “Yes, she will stay. She and I will live together.”

  “But Naomi, think of what you’re doing!”

  “I would not have survived without Ruth.”

  “You’re among your own people now, Naomi. Send the foreigner back where she belongs. You know what the Law says.”

  Naomi turned slightly, her body rigid. “There were Egyptians who came with us out of Egypt.”

  “And look at the trouble they caused!”

  “Foreign women are cursed of God!”

  “They turn our men’s hearts away from the Lord!”

  “Enough!” Naomi cried out. “Should I cut off what God has grafted in? Ruth chose to come with me. She turned her back on her mother and father and her brothers and sisters, all she has ever known, to come to Bethlehem and worship God with me.”

  Everyone fell silent for a moment, but Ruth knew words could not convince these women that she was worthy of acceptance. She would have to live an exemplary life before them in order for them to believe she had chosen Naomi over her father and mother, and God over the idols of her people. Time. It would take time.

  “You have returned in time for Passover, Naomi. It is good to have you back among us.”

  And with that said, the women began to disperse, leaving Ruth and Naomi alone at the well.

  Ruth wept softly. “I have brought shame upon you. I have made your homecoming even more difficult than it might have been otherwise.”

  “No,” Naomi said wearily. “They remember the way I was before I left. My husband prospered and I had cause to rejoice. I could laugh and sing with them. Now my wretchedness makes them uncomfortable. If it could happen to me, they think, it could happen to them. It’s not a comforting thought.”