Will It Make You Bitter Or Better? - Hope in Worst-Case Scenarios

“‘Don’t call me Naomi [which means pleasant],’ she responded. ‘Instead, call me Mara [which means bitter], for the Almighty has made life very bitter for me. I went away full, but the LORD has brought me home empty. Why call me Naomi when the LORD has caused me to suffer and the Almighty has sent such tragedy upon me?’” (Ruth 1:20-21, NLT)

The day we meet Naomi, she’s that stay-at-home mom in Judah, dressed in a “Raising Boys” block-letter sweatshirt, facing a severe drought, and forced to pack up for a cross-country move.

Not ideal hauling up and down a mountainous strip of rugged terrain in Jordan—unclear what lay ahead, uncertain whether there will be enough food when they get there, and unsure of any leads in the real estate market before them.

Even worse: When they finally did roll out the welcome doormat in front of their new house in Moab, Naomi is wearing black within a matter of one verse (Ruth 1:3), standing beside her husband’s grave.

Fast-forward a decade later, and she’s wearing black again (Ruth 1:4-5) looking at two more freshly dug graves. Now standing in place of her two sons, we see two daughters-in-law huddled around Naomi, faces twisted in agony, sorrow, and grief.

Only 10 years ago, she had her whole future ahead of her, hopeful this new adventure would set up her family well, and most importantly, she was surrounded by the people she loved most. Life was tough, sure, but she had a husband she loved. Kids she adored. And as long as they were together, she could handle anything!

But now…they weren’t together. As a widow with no sons, her future was now more uncertain than ever before, and her financial security was one big question mark. As optimistic as we’d like to be…well, how could she ever rebound? What should she do now?

Maybe you know the feeling climbing your own uphill battle, echoing these same questions, with all optimism faded.

Here’s where we can’t miss the other woman standing in this scene—Naomi wasn’t the only one who had her husband pass away, with no source of income streaming in nor any prospects ahead. Her own daughter-in-law, Ruth, faced the same tragedy. Yet where Naomi saw a desolate, hard road ahead, Ruth instead saw it as the road to restoration—and while Naomi clung to bitterness in life, Ruth held on to hopefulness in God.

Interesting how we can walk along the same paths as others yet come to very different conclusions, isn’t it?

If we jump to the end of their story, we not only see Ruth with a family and Naomi receiving redeemed standing in society, both with a secure future—but Ruth’s baby boy later becoming the grandfather of King David and the great-great-great-great- (technically 41 “greats” belong here, but I’m already over word count) grandfather of Jesus Christ, the Messiah, God incarnate Himself.

Like we saw with Eve, we see again with Ruth and Naomi: God’s redemption always wins.

The same will prove true at the end of our story too, but until then, we are left with a decision. While Naomi didn’t choose her circumstances, we also see she didn’t need to have a story shaded by anger or darkened by bitterness, either. That’s what she chose, but P.S. We don’t have to.

We can instead live like Ruth, head held high, absolutely convinced that our God is faithful, and he is about to turn our tragedy into triumph—because that is just what He does. In the end, when his redemption does win, trust me: We will be so relieved we chose faith.

It’s up to you though: Which footsteps will you follow today?

Prayer: Lord, thank you for never allowing tragedy to have the final say over our lives. You see every pain, hard circumstance, and desperate plea—and you have a plan to redeem. I will wait expectantly to see it unfold in my life. In Jesus’ name, I pray—amen.