In the Field of Grace (39 page)

M
onths passed and, to her distress, Ruth still did not regain her former vigor. Often, she contended with debilitating headaches that would last for hours. She had never experienced serious illness before, and the weakness of her body became a constant source of frustration in spite of her happiness. Naomi proved invaluable during those months, for Ruth could not manage the care of Obed alone. Naomi saw to him with tender love, as if she were nurturing her own son.

“What if I never get better?” she asked Boaz one night after he had extinguished all the lamps save one. They were already in bed, cocooned between the feather mattress and the quilted covers. Ruth clung to her side of the bed, too hesitant to draw near to Boaz. “What if I remain weak the rest of my life?”

“Then we shall cope, as we do now, beloved.”

“I shall be such a burden to you, Boaz.”

“Burden? May the Lord bless me with a hundred burdens if they are like you. How can you believe such falsehood?” He reached for her and pulled her against his chest, encircling his arm around her back to keep her from wriggling away. “It’s been hard on you, this illness. You tire easily, and even though you never say so, I know that you are often in pain.”

Ruth drew in a steadying breath. “Is that why you won’t touch me anymore?”

He went still against her. She could hear the thud of his heartbeat beneath her ear. “You need time to recover. If you think I have lost my desire for you, think again. I want you, more than ever. But I won’t risk your health. We will wait on God.”

Ruth tried to control the tears that spilled down her cheeks. They kept coming like Noah’s flood, with no sign of an end.

Boaz kissed her on the mouth. “Hush, beloved. You’ll make yourself sick. Why all this sorrow? Do you think I cannot wait?”

“I fear you’ll have to wait forever.”

“Then I will. As long as I have you and Obed, I can bear anything.”

Ruth remembered how God had once taught her the lesson of acceptance. Acceptance with joy. Did He want her to accept her sickness? To be joyful in spite of it? It seemed an impossible requirement.

In the ensuing weeks, she found herself battling anger. Why had God allowed this illness? Why had He intervened to save her, only to let her sink into pain and weakness? The Lord did not seem in the least interested in answering her questions. Her whys remained between them, a silent indictment in Ruth’s heart. As the rest of her family and friends returned to the normal routines of everyday life, Ruth had to contend with a shrunken world.

Naomi, who had had her own battle with the Lord, understood.

“Is this the life He wants me to have? This half existence?” Ruth cried one afternoon, after crawling into bed when what she wanted most was to go outside and play with Obed in the sunshine.

“I don’t know the answer to that question. But I have learned one thing. He has not abandoned you, Ruth. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. God may not always answer our questions, but He walks with us in the midst of them, lest we get lost in the wilderness of our minds. Invite the Lord into your pain. Invite Him to be your sufficiency in the midst of it. I promise, He will sustain you.”

“That isn’t enough, Naomi. I don’t want to be sustained! I want to be healed.”

Naomi gave a gentle laugh. “I understand. You want what you want, not what He is willing to give. It’s an awkward spot. In my experience, He usually wins. Try to remember, daughter, time does not work the same in the hands of the Lord as it would in ours. Sometimes, out of the delays of life, He calls forth a blessing.”

When Naomi left, Ruth decided to pray. Not only to beg and cajole the Lord into giving her the desire of her heart. This time, she prayed with her hands open, willing to let Him choose her destiny for her.

“Sustain me, Lord, through the best of life and the worst. Help me cling to You. Help me remember that although my flesh and my heart may fail, You are the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Carry me and rescue me even when I fight You. Overcome my struggles. Quiet me until I become like a weaned child with his mother.”

For the first time in months, Ruth experienced peace. Her storm-tossed thoughts grew still and she felt quieted.

The assurance, when it came, was inward, more a sense than words. And yet she knew that the Lord had spoken to her.

I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you
.

Not long after the anniversary of Obed’s first birthday, Ruth weaned him. It had been difficult to nurse him this long because of her sickness. She was sad that she could not nurse him as long as other women nursed their infants. But her milk had been decreasing, and she found herself weak after every feeding. Boaz and Naomi had both insisted that weaning Obed would be the best decision for her health.

As was common in Israel, they celebrated the occasion with a great feast. The morning of the festivities Ruth awoke without pain
and weakness. Over the past year, she had on many occasions experienced short stretches of well-being, sometimes lasting several hours. Other than a flash of relief, she thought little of her reprieve that morning. She spent the day helping to prepare the food, joining Mahalath and Sheba and a few extra servants hired especially for the occasion as they made honey cakes and decorated large platters of dates and nuts. She crushed mint and garlic for the roasted lamb and spooned out Naomi’s pickled capers into the lentil stew boiling in a large pot.

By that evening when the guests began to arrive, Ruth had still not experienced even a twinge of pain. She felt as strong as in the old days. Too busy to think of the aberration, she changed into a green tunic, her narrow waist cinched in by a silver belt Boaz had given to her as a gift to celebrate Obed’s weaning. Mahalath twined her hair into bejeweled braids before rushing out to help with final preparations. Ruth had not had a chance to don her light veil when Boaz came in.

“You are so lovely,” he said, kissing the side of her neck.

She shivered. “I missed you.” He had been away from home for two days, dealing with a caravan carrying goods that had been stuck in bad roads outside Bethlehem.

“They tell me you have overworked and refused to rest all day. I came to scold you. Now I find you looking lovelier than a new lily. Do you not feel tired?”

She frowned. “Not even a little. I feel strong and well, as if I had never been sick.”

Boaz lowered his lashes. “I am glad you are having a good day. Best not overdo it, though. You might pay for it tomorrow.”

The surge of health lingered through the night. Ruth chatted with her neighbors and chased after Obed who had begun to walk in earnest two weeks before. She noticed that he loved being in the midst of so many admirers, and did everything in his power to charm their guests. His antics made everyone laugh, and Ruth looked on with pride. She ate more heartily than she had in
months and never once felt the need to crawl into bed, overcome by exhaustion.

In the morning she awoke, still free of pain. The sheer bliss of uninterrupted physical well-being overwhelmed her senses. It was pure delight not to be sick. She stretched her hands above her head and arched her back like a contented cat in the sun.

“How do you feel?” Boaz stood near a window, sunlight revealing the tense expression on his face.

“I feel wonderful.”

“Not sick?”

“Not at all.” She went still as a realization settled into her heart. Pushing the covers back, she ran to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Boaz, I think the Lord has healed me.”

He smiled down into her eyes. “I pray you are right.”

At Boaz’s insistence Ruth left the cleaning to others in the household. Husband and wife spent the morning playing with Obed. Boaz brought them into the barn and let Obed tangle his chubby hands into the horses’ manes. The little boy screamed with delight and the horses bore his enthusiastic assault with admirable aplomb.

In the evening, Naomi joined them for a supper of leftover roast lamb and fresh bread. “Daughter, do my eyes deceive me? I have worried for you these past two days, noting how hard you’ve pushed yourself. I must admit, however, that you look recovered.”

Ruth grinned. “I have not had a moment of discomfort or sickness since yesterday. The Lord has healed me, I am certain. But this husband of mine is too cautious to believe it. He won’t agree unless the Lord were to send him a personal letter, declaring me restored.”

Boaz pushed his sleeves up over his elbows. “It has only been two days. Let’s wait a month.”

“A month! You called a physician after three days when you thought I was sick. Shall we not hold the reverse true? Three days, and you can declare me healed.”

Naomi laughed. “She has you there, Boaz.”

He held up a hand. “I never thought I’d see the day when the two of you convened against me.”

Convinced of her healing, Ruth waited patiently for five whole days. She felt no surprise when she remained free of any nagging symptoms. Every passing hour seemed to add to her vigor and she began to put on a bit of healthy flesh. Still, Boaz would not budge and acknowledge that she was cured.

On the fifth night after the feast, when Boaz drew Ruth into his arms for a comforting peck on the cheek, she kissed him on the mouth and kept on kissing him, until with a groan, he gave in and kissed her without holding back.

“You should ask yourself, husband,” Ruth said much later as she leaned against her pillows, her arms crossed over her chest, unable to quash a smug smile, “when it comes to the important moments in our lives, why is it that I always have to make the first move?”

Boaz roared with laughter. “You ought to have known, that night on the threshing floor, when you had to throw yourself at me, that you would have a rough life ahead of you.”

“I did not throw myself at you!”

“As I recall, I opened my eyes in the dark of the night, innocent as a babe, to find my feet naked and a brazen woman cuddled up to me.”

She leaned in for a deep kiss. “I don’t think we should tell Obed about that story.”

“About what a hussy his mother is? Too late. I already told him. I’m sure he will tell our grandchildren as well. I fear the secret is out. The whole world will probably hear about it before the next harvest.”

She thumped him on the arm. “No one shall find out. I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

“Beloved, I am afraid one day you will be famous. Everyone will hear about your story, for you are far too extraordinary to remain forgotten. As long as there are people in this world, they will speak of your faithfulness and courage.”

“If anyone is going to be famous in this family, it is you. You are already well known in Bethlehem. And in the years to come, many will speak of your extraordinary goodness.”

“I care nothing about fame, Ruth. I only know the Lord has blessed us beyond what I could imagine. He has spread His wings over us. Remember how I prayed that over you the first day I met you?”

Ruth bolted up with excitement. “I had forgotten the blessing you spoke over me that day. He honored your prayer, Boaz.”

“And by blessing you, He blessed me.”

“What do you mean?”

“He has given us a glorious lineage. A child of our flesh. We had to wait both of us, for many years. But those years weren’t wasted. God built our character in the waiting times. In the despairing seasons. The Lord has given us happiness. But He has given us something more important still. He has matured us in the invisible things of the soul. We learned the power of obedience as we waited. No matter what we go through now, that inner strength will undergird us.”

“I look forward to a boring old age, with no adventures and no need to exercise extraordinary inner strength.”

“He has restored you to me. That’s as much adventure as I need.”

“Does this mean that you are convinced I am healed?”

His hand tangled in her hair and pulled her forward in a blatantly possessive move. “I’m convinced. With all my heart, I love you, Ruth of Moab.”

She trembled in his arms. “I am my beloved’s and he is mine.”