Ruth and Boaz were pressed along again as the women joined the men in the procession back through the dark streets of Bethlehem. Some of the men carried torches. The women played tambourines, beat small hand drums, clinked finger cymbals, shook tingling bells, and sang with the men. Many carried oil lamps to light the way.
When Boaz entered his house, he raised his mantle and held it over Ruth as he drew her up onto the dais beneath the canopy. He was surprised and pleased that she knew exactly what to do. He walked her in a full circle several times for all the witnesses to see that she had his covering of marriage. When he stopped, Ruth didn’t hesitate. She drew off her veil and draped it over his shoulder according to custom. The people declared, “The government shall rest upon his shoulder!” Naomi was smiling proudly.
Ruth settled herself beside Boaz on a cushion beneath the canopy. “I have never seen you look more beautiful, Ruth.”
She glanced up at him and he smiled. Fascinated, he watched the color mount into her cheeks. “Nor I you,” she said and lowered her head again.
He gave a soft laugh. “I was sorely in need of new plumage.”
She took his hand in both of hers. The warmth of her touch went up his arm and spread through his body. “May God bless you for your kindness toward me.”
His throat tightened. “He already has.”
When they were escorted to the bridechamber and left alone, Boaz felt like a callow youth standing in the middle of the room. He didn’t know what to say to Ruth. He wanted to put her at ease, but how could he when he’d never been more nervous in his entire life? He was ill equipped to know how to please her and wished he had talked with one of his married friends. There hadn’t been time! He started to pace and stopped himself. He combed his fingers through his beard. Catching himself at this nervous activity, he put his hand at his side. Thankfully, Ruth had turned away and had not seen his fumbling ineptness.
When she drew off the embroidered overdress, he felt shock at the power of his desire. “We can wait, Ruth.”
“It’s expected of us.”
Was it resignation or willing acceptance he heard in her voice? “We can wait,” he said again.
She glanced over her shoulder. Frowning slightly, she turned fully to look at him. She said nothing for a long moment, her doe-brown eyes searching his face. He wanted to hide himself from that perusal but didn’t. She blinked in surprise. She came to him then, each step across the room tightening the pain in his chest. He was more vulnerable than he had been when he had sought Naomi’s hand, for he hadn’t loved her as deeply as he loved this young woman.
She took his hand. He couldn’t find his voice. When she kissed his palm and put it against her cheek, he couldn’t move.
“It’s not necessary to wait, my husband,” she said softly. “I came to you without compulsion.”
“Naomi sent you.”
She looked up at him solemnly. She searched his eyes, her own filled with strange confusion. “I chose to obey. I hoped, but never dared believe, you would find me acceptable.”
He let his breath out sharply. “I hoped,” he said hoarsely, “but still don’t dare believe . . .” He could not finish. This girl could destroy him with a word.
Her eyes glistened with moisture. She reached up and cupped his face. “So that you will know I belong to you, my lord.” She drew his head down and kissed him.
And the women were saying . . .
“It’s about time Boaz took a bride.”
“And such a lovely girl.”
“I’ve never seen a girl more dedicated to her mother-in-law.”
“I should be so lucky!”
“Ruth is better than a son.”
“Don’t I know it. A son marries and forgets all about his poor old mother.”
“That’s some roof Ruth’s put over Naomi’s head.”
“I should be so lucky!”
“A girl like that, I’ve been praying for one for my son, but he’s more interested in what a girl looks like than her integrity.”
“What a pity if Boaz has no real love for Ruth.”
“A marriage of obligation is a cold bedfellow.”
“May God give them every happiness.”
The women agreed and each went her own way, returning to her own house and family.
And the men were saying . . .
“I knew by Boaz’s manner that it was something of great importance to him. He was in a great hurry to settle the matter without delay.”
“Rishon didn’t have a chance.”
“Rishon had all the chance he deserved. He wanted the land but not the responsibility that came with it.”
“Don’t be so quick to cast stones. Rishon’s wife has born him three daughters. Would you be so eager to give up your firstborn son for another man’s inheritance? And what if his first wife bears no sons at all? What then?”
“All that aside, Rishon still neglected his duty to Naomi and Ruth.”
“She is a fine girl.”
“May God grant her many sons.”
“Boaz has remained all these years without a wife. It will be a difficult adjustment.”
“I should be so lucky!”
Some laughed.
“She is very young. I wouldn’t want to see my friend’s heart broken at this stage of his life.”
“Your fears are without cause. Ruth is young, but her character is proven.”
“I don’t doubt her character. I merely pray she will love him as he most evidently loves her.”
“May the Lord God of Israel warm her heart toward our friend.”
RUTH gave birth nine months after the wedding festivities. Sinking back and resting against the bedding, she watched Naomi take the infant and wash him, salt him, and carefully wrap him in swaddling clothes. “He is beautiful,” Naomi wept, holding him close. “So beautiful.” She carried him from the room and Ruth turned her face to the wall, tears spilling silently.
Boaz came to her later. She had risen from her bed, dressed, and was sitting in the doorway to the garden, watching Naomi walk around with the baby. Boaz drew up a stool and sat beside her. “Naomi will no longer be called Mara.”
Ruth looked at him. He was gazing into the garden as she had, but she couldn’t read the expression on his face. “Thank you,” she said softly.
He didn’t look at her. “Don’t thank me for doing what was right.” His voice was rough with emotion.
“You have given up your firstborn son to be heir for another man’s family.”
“It is our way, Ruth.”
“No. It wasn’t Rishon’s way. It is your way, Boaz. You have put others ahead of yourself.”
He looked at her. “Do not praise me too highly, Ruth. I struggle between my duty and my desire.” He looked away. “I am a man like any other.”
She blinked back tears, wanting to cry out that he wasn’t anything like others she had known. Not even Mahlon, whom she had loved so much, would have done what Boaz did.
“Do you want his name to be Mahlon?” Boaz said quietly, still watching Naomi sitting on a stone bench beneath an olive tree.
“Let his name be Obed.” A servant.
“So be it. Naomi will never have to fear being alone in her old age,” Boaz said.
“Nor will you.”
Boaz rose. He touched her head lightly and then turned away, leaving her alone to watch Naomi with their son.
She kept the infant at night and rose every few hours to nurse him. She savored those times when the stillness surrounded her and she held her son close and felt his mouth tug at her breast. She caressed his soft cheek and let his fingers close tightly around her finger. Tears welled, but she blinked them back. When she was finished nursing him, she kept him close beside her on her bed. Each morning, Naomi entered her chamber, leaned down to kiss Ruth, and then took Obed in her arms and tended him throughout the day, surrendering him for feedings only.
“I shall never be called Mara again,” Naomi said, laughing
at the expressions crossing Obed’s face. “Never again.”
“He is beautiful!” the women exclaimed as they admired the baby. Every phase of Obed’s growth was met with proclamations by the women of the town who often gathered at Boaz’s house to watch the baby progress. “Praise the Lord who has given you a family redeemer today!”
“May he be famous in Israel.”
“May this child restore your youth and care for you in your old age.”
“And no doubt he will, for he is the son of your daughter-in-law who loves you so much.”
“Ruth has been better to you than seven sons!”
Ah, yes, Ruth, her precious Ruth. Naomi smiled, lifting Obed to her shoulder and rubbing his back, delighting in the way the baby nuzzled against her neck and melted against her. She couldn’t remember a happier time in her life than now, with this child in her arms. God had stripped her bare and now was rebuilding her house on a firm foundation. This child who had been born to replace her sons and husband would be brought up by Boaz, a man of faith, who studied the Law with diligence and passion, a man who sat in the city gate and ruled his people with wisdom and loving-kindness.
“Ah, my little one,” she said, lifting Obed and kissing him beneath his chubby chin. “May you grow to be the man your father is.” She delighted in her grandson’s baby chuckles. As she turned, she saw Ruth watching her from the doorway, and the mother hunger was plain to see. Naomi felt a pang of conscience at the gift she had been given so willingly. Had she ever thought of the cost to Ruth? and to Boaz? Her daughter-in-law smiled and then turned away to some chore within the house. Naomi frowned slightly as she nestled Obed against her shoulder once more.
Something was missing. Naomi knew what it was, but she could do nothing about it. And so she prayed and prayed and prayed unceasingly for that which only God could give to the two who had given up so much.
Ruth found it a consuming job to run Boaz’s considerable household, but she was thankful for the work that occupied her time and her mind. Boaz encouraged her to make all the decisions involved in running the home, and she sought Naomi’s advice frequently, gradually adapting to her new role as the wife of one of Bethlehem’s leading men. She learned to delegate duties to the servants rather than try to do everything herself. She praised their work, thankful for their increasing efforts. They seemed eager to please her, and she was equally eager to see to their needs. She rose before dawn to prepare breakfast for her household and to make plans for the day’s work for the servants. She watched for the best bargains in the marketplace and was generous to those in need. No one in her household went wanting. Her hand was always open, for everything Boaz touched seemed to bring forth bounty.
When Boaz had come for her at Abigail’s house and taken her home with him, almost two years ago now, she’d been afraid she would disappoint him, that she would be unable to love him as he deserved to be loved. But all that had changed when he treated her with such tender respect on their wedding night. Who would not love such a man? Over the months, her feelings had blossomed and deepened even more until a miracle had happened. Having never expected to love again, she now found herself so deeply in love with Boaz that she had to remind herself he had married her only to raise up a son for her first husband.
She and Naomi spent many hours together combing flax and weaving cloth so they would have material to sew clothing for the poor, while Obed played on the floor close by. They laughed at his antics, for he was a delightful, happy baby. He kept them both occupied when he began first to crawl and then to toddle about the house, his hands ready to touch anything and everything within his reach. Sometimes Boaz would come home and watch him play, but he only held him when Naomi placed the child in his arms. It was as though Boaz waited for permission to hold his own son.
Even with all she had to do, Ruth felt a vague disquiet, an aching loneliness. She had been married to Boaz for almost two years and knew as little of his inner thoughts now as she did on the day she met him in the field of barley. He was her husband, and yet he withheld himself from her.
“I don’t think he’s happy,” she said to Naomi one day when her mother-in-law chanced to mention how much time Boaz was spending with the other elders at the city gate.
“What gives you such a thought?”
“He rises before I do, prays alone in the garden, and leaves for the rest of the day. He spends more time with the other men than he does in his own house, Mother. Sometimes I wonder . . .”
“Wonder what?”
“If he’s avoiding me.”
Naomi rose and hurried over to pick up Obed before he could pull over a pile of dried flax. She laughed and scolded him, before turning back to Ruth. “Have you talked with Boaz about this?”
“How dare I speak to Boaz about anything, Mother? After all he’s done for both of us, should I expect more of him?” She concentrated on her weaving, afraid to confide too much to Naomi. The last thing she wanted to do was risk hurting her mother-in-law by admitting how much she loved her husband. Would Naomi feel she was being disloyal to her dear Mahlon?
Naomi smiled slightly, balancing Obed on her hip. “Things have changed, haven’t they?”
“Changed?”
“You agreed to go to Boaz so he might give you a son to claim Mahlon’s inheritance. You went to Boaz so I would have a roof over my head. You went because I sent you.”
“I agreed to go to him.” Ruth’s mouth trembled. She didn’t want her mother-in-law to think she had been completely selfless in her actions. If she hadn’t admired Boaz, she would not have agreed so readily to offer herself to the man. She pressed her lips together. “You know how much I loved Mahlon, Mother. You know, don’t you?”
Naomi looked bemused for a moment, and then her eyes cleared suddenly and widened. “Oh, my dear.” She set Obed down. She came and sat close beside her. “You were a wonderful wife to my son. I know that better than anyone.”
Ruth’s hands shook as she clasped them in her lap. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Naomi put her hands over Ruth’s. “If you’re trying to tell me you love Boaz, I can assure you I won’t see it as any disloyalty to my son. In truth, I will rejoice over an answered prayer!”
“You will?” She searched Naomi’s face and saw no pain at all, not even a hint of it.
Naomi cupped her cheek. “Oh, Ruth, I love you as I would a daughter of my own flesh. I want you to be happy. And Boaz is a good man, a very good man.”
Ruth smiled tremulously. “A wonderful man.” She felt relieved of her guilt, but it didn’t change the dilemma in which she found herself. “But I think he married me for no other reason than to fulfill his duty as our relative.”
“I’m sure you are mistaken. Boaz loves you. Didn’t I tell you so before I sent you to him?”
“He scarcely looks at me. He hasn’t touched me since . . .” She shook her head, disheartened. She swallowed hard and continued bluntly. “Boaz has succeeded in performing his duty as our relative, Mother.”
“Ah,” Naomi said, her eyes revealing her understanding.
Ruth glanced away. What of Boaz’s inheritance? If he died without additional sons, all of his property, as well as Mahlon’s, would go to Obed. A good and loving man like Boaz deserved sons to carry on his own name.
He withheld himself from her in so many ways, and she longed to know everything about him. She wanted to share his thoughts, his pain, his struggles, his hope. But he seemed to retreat to his work, his obligations to the people of Bethlehem, his service to the Lord, anything and everything that kept him away from his own home—and his own wife. Yet how could she complain? Everyone benefited. Boaz’s good deeds extended to everyone, including her and Naomi. He poured himself out for her sake and Naomi’s and expected nothing for himself. He didn’t seem to expect—or even want—her love.
Ruth felt confined, trapped in silence. She was so con-fused, her emotions in such turmoil. She hadn’t felt this uncertainty when she left Moab. S
he had come to Bethlehem, content to spend the rest of her life taking care of her beloved mother-in-law. Instead, God had taken her beneath His mighty wing and provided for her through the kindness of Boaz. Why should she, the lowest of the low in Bethlehem, a foreigner, be elevated before all eyes and made the wife of the kindest, most generous, most righteous man in all the city? She rejoiced daily over the blessings God had poured upon her, even while feeling increasingly unworthy of them.
So why this unending sorrow? How dare she ask for more? And yet . . . how she longed to make her husband happy!
Oh, Boaz, my Boaz!
She spent her days waiting for him to return home. She melted when he smiled at her, even if it was a fatherly smile. Just the sound of his voice made her heart sing. When he touched her, she trembled.
But Boaz was at home less and less. And she could think of only one reason why he would absent himself so much of the time. He could not return her feelings and felt uncomfortable in her company. For surely he had sensed how deeply she loved him.
She had prayed that God would make her content to spend the rest of her life on the periphery of her husband’s life, content in his contentment. She wanted to be a part of Boaz’s life, wanted him to trust her enough to share his struggles and triumphs, wanted to be part of him. But it seemed that Boaz didn’t share her desire.
“What is it, my daughter?” Naomi said, holding Ruth’s hand between her own. “What is causing you such grief?”
“I love him. I love him so much it hurts.” She loved him more than she had ever loved anyone, even Mahlon.
“And you haven’t told him.”
“I don’t want to embarrass him.”
“Embarrass him? Is it better if he thinks he’s failed as a husband?”
Unshaken_Ruth Page 11
