As they prepared to leave the house, Naomi wondered if they would even make it down the hill with all the things Orpah had decided to bring. The poor girl. She couldn’t bear to leave anything behind. She was loaded down with everything she had accumulated during her marriage to Kilion, including a small stool. Orpah moaned in distress. “Oh, I wish we could bring the table and rug . . .”
Ruth, on the other hand, had only a pack full of colorful sashes she’d made, a skin of water, and enough grain and raisin cakes to last for several days. “Where are the rest of your things, Ruth?” Naomi asked her.
“I have all I need. Let me carry the cooking pan, Mother. It’s too heavy for you. We’ll travel farther today if I carry it.”
Naomi had spoken to the family next door, telling them Orpah and Ruth would be returning in a day or two. She wanted to be sure no one bothered what was left in the house. When the young women returned to Kir-hareseth, they could sell everything, including the house, and split whatever came of it. Naomi didn’t care about any of the belongings she was leaving behind. She preferred the plain things of her people to the finery of the Moabites, Philistines, and Egyptians. It was Elimelech who had placed such importance on the gifts he gave her, and they would be out of place in Bethlehem.
She suspected that Ruth would give everything to Orpah. Dear Ruth—she had such a generous heart, not to mention a wealthy father who would want her to return to his house. Naomi knew him well enough to suspect that he already had another husband in mind for Ruth, a rich merchant’s son or an official in the king’s court. Her heart sank at the thought of Ruth married to someone other than her son. Curious . . . the same wasn’t true of Orpah.
Perhaps it was because Ruth had responded to her teachings about the true God. How Naomi had rejoiced as she watched the slow budding of the girl’s faith.
“Did you see your father and mother yesterday, Ruth?”
Ruth shook her head.
“Why not? They should know you’re leaving the city.”
“They will know that I’m with you.”
“Do they know I’m going back to Bethlehem?”
“My mother said you would, and I told her that even if you did, I belong with my husband’s family.”
Naomi said no more about it. She started off, carrying only a small sack of parched grain, a skin of water, and a leather bag in which was a sandalwood box containing crystals of frankincense. She would give it to the priest when she reached Bethlehem, an offering for the Lord.
She felt a sense of relief as she walked through the gates of Kir-hareseth and saw the road before her. Whatever hardships came, at least she was on her way back to Canaan. She didn’t look back. Orpah did look back, weeping softly, but Ruth merely smiled and gazed off toward the King’s Highway to the Dead Sea. “It’s a good day to begin our journey, Mother.”
The day wore on and the sun rose, hot and oppressive. Naomi felt despair creeping into her heart. Soon she would say good-bye to these daughters. Lord, give me the strength to place their needs ahead of my fear of being alone. Father, bless them for their kindness to me. Take them safely home, and give me the courage to go on alone.
At midday they stopped to rest beneath a terebinth tree. Naomi accepted the raisin cake and cup of water Ruth offered, but Orpah declined food. She was quiet, her eyes downcast. Ruth sat down and wiped the perspiration from her face. She looked weary but was more concerned about her sister-in-law than herself. “Are you not feeling well, Orpah?”
“I’ll be all right after a rest.”
Naomi knew what was wrong, but the knowledge gave her no satisfaction. She must send them back now. There was still time enough for them to be safely back inside the city walls before nightfall. She finished eating quickly and rose, lifting to her own back the bundle Ruth had insisted upon carrying to this point.
“What are you doing?” Ruth said, rising as well.
“I’m going on alone.”
“No, Mother!”
Orpah came to her feet and joined Ruth in protest, weeping profusely. “Don’t go! Please don’t go.”
Naomi’s heart broke, but she knew she must remain firm. “Go back to your mothers’ homes instead of coming with me. And may the Lord reward you for your kindness to your husbands and to me. May the Lord bless you with the security of another marriage.”
Ruth wept. “No.” She shook her head. “No, no . . .” She stepped forward. “We want to go with you to your people.”
“Why should you go on with me?” Naomi said, striving and failing to keep her voice from becoming strident with restrained emotion. “Can I still give birth to other sons who could grow up to be your husbands? No, my daughters, return to your parents’ homes, for I am too old to marry again. And even if it were possible, and I were to get married tonight and bear sons, then what? Would you wait for them to grow up and refuse to marry someone else? No, of course not, my daughters! Things are far more bitter for me than for you, because the Lord Himself has caused me to suffer.”
Ruth and Orpah wept harder. Orpah embraced her. “I shall never forget you, Naomi. May you have a safe journey home.”
“Nor I you,” Naomi said and kissed her. “And a safe journey to you as well!”
Orpah took up her bundles and started back toward Kir-hareseth. She paused after a little way and looked back, perplexed. “Aren’t you coming, Ruth?”
“No.” Ruth shook her head, her eyes awash with tears. “I’m going with Mother.”
Orpah dropped her things and ran back to embrace her. “Are you certain, my sister?”
“Never more certain.”
“Please . . .”
“No. Go back without me. I will go on with Naomi.”
With one last look back, Orpah started off again. Naomi watched Orpah walk quickly away and then looked at Ruth. She stretched out her hand and pointed toward Kir-hareseth. “See. Your sister-in-law has gone back to her people and to her gods. You should do the same.”
Tears slipped down Ruth’s face, but she didn’t move. “Don’t ask me to leave you and turn back, for I won’t.”
“But how can I not tell you to go?” Naomi came closer. “You heard what I said, Ruth. Should I take you back to Bethlehem with me so you can have the same bitter existence I’ll have? Should you grow old without a husband and children? Go after Orpah! Return to your mother and father!”
“No,” Ruth said, weeping. “I won’t leave you. Make me your proselyte.”
Naomi’s heart squeezed tight. “Oh, my sweet one, think of what you’re saying. The lives of my people are not as easy as what you’ve known. We’re commanded to keep Sabbaths and holy days, on which we may not travel more than two thousand cubits.”
“I will go wherever you go.”
Naomi knew she must speak the truth, even if it hurt Ruth’s feelings. “We’re commanded not to spend the night with Gentiles.”
“I will live wherever you live.”
“We’re commanded to keep over six hundred precepts!”
“Whatever your people keep I will keep, Mother, for your people will be my people.”
Naomi kept on. “We are forbidden to worship any strange god. Chemosh is an abomination!”
“Your God will be my God.”
Naomi spread her hands. “We have four sorts of deaths for malefactors, Ruth: stoning, burning, strangling, and slaying with the sword. Reconsider your words!” When Ruth said nothing, she went on, beseeching Ruth to see the many ways their people were different. “Our people are buried in houses of sepulchre.”
“Then let it be so for me as well, Mother.” Falling to her knees, Ruth wrapped her arms around Naomi’s waist. “I will die where you die and will be buried there.” When Naomi tried to press her back, Ruth clung more tightly. “And may the Lord punish me severely if I allow anything but death to separate us!”
Weeping now, Naomi placed her hands on Ruth’s head and stroked her hair. Naomi looked up at the heavens. She had never hoped for this, never exp
ected that this young Moabitess would be willing to give up everything in order to go with her. She looked down again, stroking Ruth’s head absently. “You will never see your mother and father and brothers and sisters again, Ruth. Do you realize that?”
“Yes.” Ruth raised her head. Her face was streaked with tears.
“Your life will be easier if you return.”
“Oh, Naomi, how can I go back to my old life when you hold the words of truth?” Her arms tightened again as she began to sob. “Please don’t plead with me to leave you. Don’t lead me into temptation. I’m going with you!”
“Your God will be my God.”
How could Naomi say no to such words? Hadn’t she prayed that Ruth’s heart would be softened toward the God of Israel? One prayer had been answered, one prayer among thousands. “Be at ease,” she said gently and loosened Ruth’s arms from around her waist. Cupping Ruth’s face, she smiled down at her. She smoothed away Ruth’s tears. “As God wills. Whatever comes, we’ll face together.”
Ruth’s eyes shone as she smiled in relief. “I will heed your every word, for I know you’ll teach me what I need to know.”
“Everything I learned at my mother’s knee I will make known to you. All I have is yours. I give it to you with pleasure.” For Naomi knew now there was more than marriage to her son that had grafted this girl into her life and heart. And now she would pray that Ruth would be grafted in among her people as well.
You have not forgotten me, Lord. You knew I couldn’t make it home alone. You have not abandoned me.
“Come,” Naomi said, taking Ruth’s hand and helping her up. “We must make a long journey before we reach home.”
Ruth didn’t dwell on what hardships she and Naomi might encounter when they reached Bethlehem. Each day of travel was enough trouble to bear without fearing what might come when they reached their destination. Ruth had lived in fear all during the months of Mahlon’s illness, and it had accomplished nothing. She’d loved her husband, but she couldn’t save him. All her efforts to make him better had failed, and the fear of losing him hadn’t prevented death from coming anyway. Nor had fear helped her face the difficulties of surviving without a man to provide for the household. After Mahlon’s death, she decided she would never again allow her mind to dwell on things beyond her control. The future was one of these things. She would face whatever came and do the best with whatever life God gave her.
Naomi often comforted her without even realizing it. “The Lord will take care of us,” she’d said last night, and Ruth had lain awake on the hard earth, staring up at the stars and thinking about those words. The Lord will take care of us. After all Naomi had suffered, she still clung to her faith. Ruth was comforted by Naomi’s strength. The Lord will take care of us. She chose to believe it because her mother-in-law said it was true.
From the time she had entered Mahlon’s home, Ruth had known there was something different about Naomi. First there was the outward sign: her clothing. Even after years of living among the Moabites, her mother-in-law continued to dress as a Hebrew. She didn’t do so with an air of pride, as though she was better than those living around her. It was simply who she was. Ruth had also seen her deep faith in God. At first, she’d worried that Naomi’s long silences meant she didn’t like Mahlon’s choice of a wife. But Mahlon had said that wasn’t so.
“She’s just praying,” Mahlon had told her with a shrug. “She’s done it for as long as I can remember. Don’t let it upset you. It doesn’t do any harm. Just ignore her.”
But Ruth hadn’t ignored her mother-in-law. She could see that prayer meant a great deal to Naomi, and Ruth wanted to understand more about it. So she had surreptitiously watched Naomi. Sometimes her mother-in-law would look so peaceful when she talked to her god, and at other times, anguished. Every morning, often at midday, and always during the evening hours, Naomi would draw her shawl over her head, sit in the corner of the house, and become still and quiet. Ruth asked her once what she prayed about, and Naomi had smiled and said, “Everything.” Her eyes had grown sad. “Mostly about my sons.” She’d reached out and put her hand over Ruth’s, her eyes softening. “And my daughters.”
The kind words had brought tears to Ruth’s eyes. Naomi’s good opinion had mattered very much, for Ruth admired her greatly. Naomi was kind and pleasant, fair in her division of chores, and she always worked as hard as everyone else. She loved both of her sons deeply and equally, and despite their cultural differences, she embraced Ruth and Orpah as daughters. Love was a gift Naomi had in abundance. And though Mahlon seemed unimpressed, Ruth sensed a deep, abiding knowledge and wisdom in her mother-in-law, knowledge and wisdom she longed to share.
Yet Ruth sensed her sorrow as well. Naomi was never quite settled in Kir-hareseth, never quite at ease with the world around her. It had to do with her God. Ruth had been afraid to approach Naomi and talk with her about it. So she approached her husband instead.
Mahlon had never had much to say about the God of his people. In fact, he seemed to know very little about Him. “Why are you so interested in God?”
“Shouldn’t I be able to teach your sons about Him?”
“Teach them about Chemosh if it pleases you. It doesn’t matter to me. I’m sure my mother will teach them about Yahweh. The important thing is for them to be tolerant of all religions. That’s the only way they’re going to succeed in Kir-hareseth.”
In Mahlon’s eyes, one god was no better than any other, but Naomi could not compromise. She was respectful, never disdaining others’ beliefs, but she held to her faith in Yahweh with quiet tenacity.
Ruth looked at her mother-in-law now, curled on her side, her head resting on a stone for a pillow. She’d fallen asleep within minutes after eating the bread Ruth prepared for her. The sun was down and the air was cooling quickly. Ruth rose and carefully draped her shawl over Naomi. The journey was already very difficult for her mother-in-law. She had eaten very little during the weeks following Mahlon’s death. Ruth had feared that Naomi would waste away in grief. So she had prepared savory stews in an effort to entice her mother-in-law’s appetite. Now it was the physical exhaustion that dampened Naomi’s appetite. She was so tired after walking all day, she could barely keep her eyes open long enough to eat anything. It was strange, but Ruth felt as though they had traded positions. Naomi had become the child, and she the caring mother. “But I don’t mind,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss Naomi’s cheek. She smoothed the tendrils of black hair back from her mother-in-law’s sunburned brow.
Ruth rose and hugged her arms close to her body, shivering slightly. Mount Nebo stood in the distance. Naomi had told her this morning that Moses had gone up onto that mountain and died there after putting Joshua in charge of God’s people. They had crossed the Jordan River soon afterward and claimed Canaan. She loved it when Naomi talked about what God had done for the Hebrews. She felt a strange stirring within her as she learned of His mighty feats and His unfailing love.
She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the heavens. “Lord, help me to take care of Your servant Naomi,” she whispered. “It’s because of her that I’ve come to believe in You. Please guide our steps and bring us safely home to Bethlehem. And, Lord, if it isn’t too much to ask, let there be old friends to greet Naomi upon her return, people who loved her in days gone by and who will continue to love her in the difficult days ahead.”
THE days were long and hot and dry. Ruth rose early and awakened Naomi. “The sun’s coming up, Mother,” she would say. “We should travel now in the cool of the day.” Silently, they would walk until the sun reached its zenith and then find shade where they could rest. Weary, Naomi usually dozed. Ruth more often looked off down the road, wondering what the future held for both of them.
They reached the Wadi Arnon, which marked the southern boundary of the Reubenite territory, and followed the King’s Highway to Dibon, Heshbon, and Abel Shittim. In each city they passed through, Ruth bartered her woven sashes in the marketplace to bu
y food, while inquiring about the road ahead.
“Oh, you’re not going over the Jericho road,” said a woman selling onions and garlic. “Robbers hide out up there in the mountains and attack the caravans. You won’t be safe alone.”
“I’m not alone. I’m traveling with my mother-in-law.”
“Two women? Well, you’d better go down to the camel market and see if you can find a traveling merchant who will allow you to travel with his caravan. No one travels the Jericho road without protection. You’d find yourself snatched up and sold into slavery.”
When Ruth returned to their little camp near the city wall, she found Naomi cooking unleavened bread on the metal bowl placed over the fire. She turned the bread skillfully with a two-pronged stick. “I’ve been worried,” Naomi said without looking up.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Ruth said, hunkering down. “I should have come back and told you what I was doing. A woman in the marketplace told me robbers attack people going over the mountains, so I thought it wise to seek assistance. We’re going to join a caravan tomorrow morning and travel with it over the Jericho road. The man is a Benjaminite, and he has armed guards. We’ll be safe with him.”
Naomi’s body relaxed. She hooked the edge of the bread and lifted it from the bowl, laying it aside to cool. “I should have thought of that myself.” She sat back on her heels and covered her face.
Ruth took the bread and broke it. She handed Naomi half. Naomi shook her head. “You must eat, Mother. You need your strength.”
Hands still covering her face, Naomi wept. “Why didn’t I think of the dangers? I never even considered what could happen to you. What was I thinking to let you come on this journey? I’m a selfish old woman!”
“You tried to turn me back,” Ruth said with a smile. “It did you no good. Try not to worry. We’re going to be safe.”
Unshaken_Ruth Page 3
