Comfortable in familiar surroundings, busy with the responsibilities of being a wife and a mother, the still young woman, like her husband, began to feel the effects of a downward turn in economics. Hoping for something better, they left the familiar, and began to set down roots as a family in a community diverse from the family and friends they had left behind. A sense of aloneness became Naomi’s shadow, but that aloneness was horribly magnified when her husband prematurely died, leaving her with two sons to provide for and nurture. In time, her sons grew and they married. Life was becoming full again in good ways, but the fullness would soon be destroyed as two young men were buried with their own premature deaths, and emptiness and sorrow weighed heavily on Naomi. As Naomi contemplated her own future, her daughters by marriage, chose with her, to return to the home Naomi had left many years before. As the three widows journeyed, more choices were made, tears were shed, blessing was given, and ultimately, only one daughter accompanied Naomi back home. Tragedy had stolen much from her and she had known, and still knew, the weight of loss upon loss upon loss.
Some, like Naomi, have known, and still know, the weight of loss upon loss. “Weight” incurred by “loss” seems almost diametrically opposed, and yet that weight is also emptiness, and a roughly scoured eradication of hopes and dreams, of love felt, embraced, and given, and of dignity, possession, security, and joy trampled by senselessness. Loss comes through death, but loss comes too when ideals, aspirations, and self-worth are crippled through a myriad of other “losses.” I have heard the pain of a mom who has experienced both the death of her child and the death of her husband. I have heard the questions and confusion of the mom whose child dies and her husband walks away. The mom whose life had already been crushed by abuse or abandonment, and now, her child is taken? The mom who leaves the graveside of one child to return home to the bedside of another. Perhaps, like Naomi, loss upon loss brings an emptiness that wants to hide itself in bitterness. Perhaps, like Naomi, loss upon loss blames God as our spirit is saturated with weariness.
But God ...... Those are the words of the psalmist. But God. God had not forgotten Naomi. God had not abandoned her. God’s love for her had not been crippled. It was still vibrant and it was still very much alive and active. And her God accomplishes within her situation what Naomi would have thought impossible. God wove generations together, people together, filial love together, humility and kindness – and God was found and seen and experienced in the aftermath of tragedy. Grace ushered in blessing. Blessing that softened the harsh remnants of tragedy. Blessing that brought beauty from the emptiness of loss. And if you fully know the story, blessing that kept on giving, even till today.
Some, like Naomi, have known, and still know, the weight of loss upon loss. “Weight” incurred by “loss” seems almost diametrically opposed, and yet that weight is also emptiness, and a roughly scoured eradication of hopes and dreams, of love felt, embraced, and given, and of dignity, possession, security, and joy trampled by senselessness. Loss comes through death, but loss comes too when ideals, aspirations, and self-worth are crippled through a myriad of other “losses.” I have heard the pain of a mom who has experienced both the death of her child and the death of her husband. I have heard the questions and confusion of the mom whose child dies and her husband walks away. The mom whose life had already been crushed by abuse or abandonment, and now, her child is taken? The mom who leaves the graveside of one child to return home to the bedside of another. Perhaps, like Naomi, loss upon loss brings an emptiness that wants to hide itself in bitterness. Perhaps, like Naomi, loss upon loss blames God as our spirit is saturated with weariness.
But God ...... Those are the words of the psalmist. But God. God had not forgotten Naomi. God had not abandoned her. God’s love for her had not been crippled. It was still vibrant and it was still very much alive and active. And her God accomplishes within her situation what Naomi would have thought impossible. God wove generations together, people together, filial love together, humility and kindness – and God was found and seen and experienced in the aftermath of tragedy. Grace ushered in blessing. Blessing that softened the harsh remnants of tragedy. Blessing that brought beauty from the emptiness of loss. And if you fully know the story, blessing that kept on giving, even till today.
(Related Bible reading: Ruth 1 - 4)
