God’s Kindness Through Hardship (Ruth 1)

If you were at Fellowship Bible Church in Springdale last night, you heard Ben share on this topic from Ruth 1. Here are some follow-up devotional thoughts.

Naomi was bitter. Call me Mara, she told her friends who did not even recognize her. She had experienced famine, as a result of God’s judgment on disobedient Israel. She had followed her husband out of God’s promised land, into the land of God’s enemies. She had witnessed her sons take Moabite wives, against God’s will. If all of those were not hardship enough, she lost her husband and both her sons, without heirs left for her to care for, or to care for her.

The Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me, she said. In her pain, she did not deny God’s sovereignty. Could he have prevented these hardships in her life? Could he have spared her husband and sons? The Almighty has brought calamity upon me. She did not question his providence.

Perhaps you, like me, have called into question the theology of God’s sovereignty in difficult times, God, do you really have this? Perhaps you have wondered about God’s presence in your life, God, are you even there?

The Lord has testified against me, she said. Though Naomi understood and accepted God’s sovereignty in her life, she could not see past her pain. God, in his sovereignty, had afflicted her and she was consumed by it. She was so consumed by it that she did not notice God’s kindness to her.

For where you go I will go. For absolutely no logical reason, despite all of Naomi’s urging, Ruth insists on staying with her, promising never to leave her. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. She sheds her cultural identity, her religious identity, and any remaining family ties. Naomi is her family now, Naomi’s God is her God. In this life of a widow, a daughter-in-law of this caliber is a great gift.

The Lord has brought me back empty, she said. But does he? Naomi cannot see it. She cannot see that her life is not completely empty. She fails to acknowledge Ruth by her side. She fails to account for Ruth’s sacrifice on her behalf, for Ruth’s loyal love, for Ruth’s kindness.

Likewise, she fails to account for God’s loyal love, for God’s kindness.

Are we so consumed by our own hardships that we are failing to see God’s loyal love? God’s kindness? It might be through the words or actions of another, or through the gorgeous sunrise, or through the peace that comes only from him (Is. 26:3). It might be through the spiritual growth we can feel happening, the development of endurance, of character, of hope (Rom. 5:1-5). It might be that through these hardships, our faith is becoming stronger, more complete (Jam. 1:2-4). Can we take a moment, or more, to step back and consider the love of God from which absolutely nothing can separate us (Rom. 5:31-39)? The kindness of God, which is ultimately found through the suffering of Jesus Christ on the cross, for us?

In the rest of the Ruth story, we will see that through this great hardship God brought upon Naomi’s life, an even greater kindness will emerge.  

And today, as we face various hardships in our own lives, God’s kindness is ever present.

Let us have eyes to see it.

When God Doesn’t Give You the Desires of Your Heart

“Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.”

Psalm 37:4

Your heart aches, your arms empty. The quiet seeps in, your loneliness your companion. Your body aches, any healing seems impossible. Your child suffers, your heart breaks. Your mind questions, this loved one doesn’t believe. Your soul downcast, stuck in cyclical sin. Your heart heavy, the suffering doesn’t end.

Perhaps, like me, you are in a season where there is a strong unmet desire of your heart. This desire is good, for a blessing from God or for healing or for companionship or for children or for relief from pain or for a loved one’s salvation. And yet, God has not chosen to bestow upon you that which you so earnestly desire.

A Brief Commentary

Before moving on, let’s briefly explore what it means to “delight in the Lord.” Here in Psalm 37, the word “delight” literally means to “enjoy, be fond of, take pleasure and enjoyment in.” To say we delight in God ought to mean that we enjoy him, which brings to mind the Westminster’s Shorter Catechism answer to the question, what is the chief end of man? To glorify God and enjoy him forever. But we don’t enjoy him in a pluralistic sense, as in, we enjoy God along with our spouse, our children, coffee, ice cream, being outside (if I’m making a list). We enjoy God fully, ultimately, as the one who fully completes us and alone brings ultimate meaning to our lives. We enjoy him even when we do not have a spouse, or children, or coffee or ice cream or the ability to be outside, because he is the beginning and end of our joy. He is fully our joy.

So then, what of our desires? Calvin, in his commentary on Psalms, helps explain: “it can never be well with us except in so far as God is gracious to us, so that the joy we derive from his paternal favour towards us may surpass all the pleasures of this world… if we stay our minds wholly upon God, instead of allowing our imaginations like others to roam after idle and frivolous fancies, all other things will be bestowed upon us in due season.”

Keeping this in mind, let me encourage you with a few thoughts for your weary heart.

Take Your Loss to Him

Though it may not feel like it, God knows the deep desires of your heart, for he knows everything.

“O LORD, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar” [Ps 139:1-2].

This desire is not unknown to the God of the universe, to the God of your life. He knows you so intimately that even “before a word is on my tongue…you know it altogether” [Ps 139:4]. You may not even voice your desires, and yet he knows them.

Though he knows them, there is much good for us to still take these unmet desires to God, in prayer. To open our hands, which clutch so tightly that which we so deeply desire, to gently open and offer it to God. To say, from deep in our spirits, “God, this is my desire. This is my loss. I do not understand, but I give it to you.”

God is not surprised; in fact, you and I cannot find a better friend in grief than Jesus. He indeed is “acquainted with grief” and has “carried our sorrows” as part of his experience as a man on this broken earth so many years ago [Isa 53:3,4]. He is not only qualified to hold your desires because he is the very God who created you and knows you intimately, but also because he is the very God who lived on this earth and died real death for you.

Acknowledge God’s Sovereignty

“I work all things to the counsel of my will” [Eph 1:11].

Firm belief in the sovereignty of God is the sweetest comfort when we are feeling the weight of unmet desires. We can know and trust that the God who created the world ordains it: “I form light and create darkness, I make well-being and create calamity, I am the LORD, who does all these things” [Isa 45:7]. Likewise, we can rest knowing that the God who created our very lives also establishes them, “the heart of a man plans his way, but the LORD establishes his steps” [Prov 16:9].

You take steps, you walk forward, knowing each step you take is from God, both the joyful leaping lunges forward and the painful slow shuffling. Does this comfort you? It is a relief to know that ultimately, God is choosing to not give this desire now, for some reason you may not understand. But it’s not because he does not know you or hear you. His reasons are often beyond our understanding, but because he is a good, loving father, we can rest in his care for us.

Recently, my 18-month old found an old apple core covered with ants on the ground. She, in true toddler form, reached down, picked it up, and gleefully shouted over her discovery. So when I quickly reached down and plucked it from her grasp, and her glee turned to a despondent glum, all I could say was, “I know you thought that would be good. I know it looked good to you. But it is not good for you now.”

Your desire may be good, your heart may be for God’s glory, your steps may be obedient. But for some reason, only known by your good and loving father, he has not given it to you for now.

Rest in His Peace

“You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD GOD is an everlasting rock” [Isa 26:3-4].

So we can take our unmet desire to God, holding it with open hands because we know and trust that God is sovereign over every aspect of our lives. What now?

Dear friend, rest. Take deep rest for your heart in the only one who can give you complete rest. In trust, there is rest. In trust, there is peace. In those moments of pain, seek to fully delight in God, because when your other desires are yet unmet, your heart will be full from his joy. It is possible, and God desires for us, to live with unmet desires but be fully satisfied in him.

When your heart is weary with unmet desire, turn your mind to your God, who knows you and hears you, who ordains your life, who alone can fully satisfy your heart. And in this active turning of your mind, rest in his perfect peace.

“But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all your works.”

Psalm 73:28

Acquainted With Grief

A few weeks ago during a particularly honest conversation with my mom, in which we were both sharing about the grief we were experiencing as we are transitioning our family overseas, she shared this simple, yet profound thought with me, “Jesus himself is acquainted with grief – that’s what the Bible says.”

In eighth grade, I memorized Isaiah 53 in the King James Version with my video school Bible class (yes, there was such a thing back then – VHS and all!). We started out by reading the chapter every day, and then gradually were able to put the Bible down and recite from memory this rich chapter. There’s much to be gleaned from this prophetic passage detailing Jesus’ coming to and living on earth, for the essential purpose of being “crushed” by the Lord (v. 10) in order to bear our iniquities and account righteousness to us (v. 11). Amazing! And here is why we celebrate Christmas, in a nutshell – in great praise and honor for Jesus’ coming to earth.

Lately, I’ve been pondering this part of this passage:

“He is despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: we hid as it were our faces from him, he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.” 

Isaiah 53:3-4, KJV

Taking a quick look into this passage, we know that the suffering Jesus experienced on earth was that which results from sin – individual sin, corporate sin, a world marked deeply and irrevocably by sin. Jesus had full human experience, all the grief and the sorrow and the suffering we likewise experience, but yet he lived a perfect life. This is an essential part of solid doctrine on the incarnation – Jesus is fully man and fully God. In order to completely accomplish redemption for humankind, Jesus must have lived a human life. In order to completely accomplish redemption for humankind, Jesus must fully be God, because only God can accomplish such a task.

This world is marked by grief and suffering and sorrow, so much, we know, from our own lives, from the news, from the lives of our friends and family. Jesus likewise experienced these griefs, and his suffering accentuates the consequences that sin brings into the world, because he experienced this grief without even sinning. Even more so, he did not just experience our grief and suffering, he “hath borne” them – meaning, he took them upon himself, invited them into his life, “carried” our sorrows. This was not a passive experiencing, but rather a very active one, in which Jesus chose in full obedience to the Father to take upon himself the sins of humankind and experience all of the grief, sorrow, and suffering which accompanies it.

Lately, I’ve had these lingering questions: what do I do with my grief? Where do I put it? How do I do it well? What can I learn from it? There is much yet for the Lord to teach me about this process, but something I have been thankfully clinging to is this: Jesus is acquainted with grief. He knows these very feelings, he has felt these very sorrows, during his life here in this broken world where death comes to all. Grieving, because of distance, because of lost time, because of lost relationship, is not unknown to God, but rather very familiar to him. In my grief, I can sit at the feet of Jesus and know that he is a friend to me. I can look to God as my loving Father, dwell in his shelter and find a shield in his faithfulness (Ps. 91:1-6). I can take great comfort in the God of all comfort, “who comforts us in our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God… for as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too” (2 Cor. 1:4-5). Not only this, but I can rejoice that through this grief “the tested genuineness of [my] faith – more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire – may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:7).

And while finding friendship in Jesus, resting in God’s comfort and shelter, and the refinement of my faith are unbelievable gifts, that’s not all. There’s also hope. Because, “out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied; by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant, make many to be accounted righteous” (Is. 53:11). Because Jesus was acquainted with grief, because he bore the suffering of humanity and ultimately death on the cross so that some might be made righteous on account of him, we have much hope. Because he has already paid the penalty for our sin and in him we are found righteous before God. And because one day, he is going to make all things new. He has already said that he will right all that is wrong with this world: “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Rev. 21:3-4).

And so, in this season where grief is pronounced, I am reminded that I can draw even nearer to the heart of God, for he is my dearest friend, my strong shelter, my ultimate comfort, and the source of my great hope. Merry Christmas to you!

originally published on December 21, 2016