CONTENT

What do you do when life feels impossible? When you try & do everything right, but nothing seems to change? When everyone else does what's best for them, & friends feel more like threats than family?

What you do is a matter of wisdom. Godly wisdom is patient, plural, & purposeful. But sometimes understanding what not to do is just as important.

The book of Ruth is complex, scandalous, & uncomfortable, but it's also full of grace, wisdom, & hope.

In Ruth 1:1–5, we encounter an ordinary family facing extraordinary circumstances. Israel was experiencing a famine during the days of the judges, when "everyone did what was right in his own eyes." Food was scarce, the rule of law was virtually nonexistent, & people were desperate. So Elimelech took his wife, Naomi, & their two sons from Bethlehem to Moab, hoping for a better life.

On the surface, we can sympathize, can't we? Life was hard. Who wouldn't be tempted to leave? But here's the problem: In their desperation to run away from their circumstances, they ended up running away from God Himself.

Eventually, Elimelech died. His sons married Moabite women, but approximately ten years later, both sons died too. Naomi was left in a foreign land, without her husband, her sons, or the support system she'd once known. What began as tragedy ended in catastrophe.

What should they have done instead? Should they have stayed? Moved somewhere else? I don't know. But we know what they shouldn't have done.

They shouldn't have trusted in their circumstances instead of God's character.

And isn't that just as relevant today? We may not be experiencing a physical famine, but many of us feel famished. We wonder if God is holding out on us. If our circumstances will ever change. Or perhaps we recognize that if our circumstances don't change, we need God to change our hearts.

But here's the hope woven into this tragic beginning: No matter how stubborn we are, how fast or far we run, we can never outrun God's love.

Even in Moab, God was working. Naomi's daughter-in-law Ruth, whose name means "friend" or "companion," would become a faithful presence in Naomi's life. And in this way, Ruth foreshadows Jesus.

Jesus is our faithful friend, our companion. He doesn't abandon us in our suffering, uncertainty, anxiety, or disappointment.

Sometimes, when circumstances become challenging, the wisest thing we can do is wait. Lean in. Resist making emotionally reactive decisions. Examine our own responsibility, repent where necessary, & pursue reconciliation. Remember, resurrection doesn't come from running away from God. It comes from running to Him.

And when the darkness feels unbearable, remember that His light is clearest in the darkness. Like a loving Father entering a dark bedroom to comfort His frightened child, God comes to us in our distress.

We may run from Him, but He will never reject us. Because no matter how far we run, we can never outrun Jesus.

What will people say about you when you're gone?

Not what you accomplished. Not how much money you made, where you went to school, or which college football team you cheered for. But who you were.

Did you love people when it was difficult? Did you show up when it would've been easier to walk away? Did you do the right thing even when it cost you something? These are the things that reveal our character.

David Brooks, in his book The Road to Character, describes character as an “unshakable commitment” built through thousands of internal confrontations against pride, vanity, & selfishness. He calls character a “eulogy virtue,” something people remember about us when we're gone.

And most of us want to be remembered that way. We want to be men & women of high character. We want the same for our children, our friends, & the people we work with.

But here's a question we don't often consider: Where does that kind of character actually come from? And perhaps the more uncomfortable question: What if the very suffering we're trying to escape is one of the ways God is building it in us?

In Romans 5:1–5, Paul helps us understand the surprising relationship between suffering, character, & hope.

First, character must have an anchor. We often read this passage from suffering to endurance, endurance to character, & character to hope. And that's appropriate. But when we read Paul's line of thought backwards, we discover something beautiful: character doesn't lead us to God's love. God's love is the source of our character.

An unshakable commitment isn't actually unshakable unless it's anchored in something unshakable. And friends, that can't be us. Have you ever done something you swore you'd never do? Said something you promised you'd never say? Of course you have. We change. We disappoint ourselves. Our commitments aren't always as unshakable as we'd like to believe. But God's love doesn't change. Nothing can separate us from it.

Second, character is forged & revealed in the fire of suffering. Think about the jewelry on our hands & around our necks. It doesn't just happen. Metal is melted, purified, & shaped by the artist. The metal doesn't determine its beauty. The intensity of the fire & the skill of the artist do. Friends, God is the master artist. He knows exactly how to transform us & make us beautiful.

And here's what's remarkable about Christianity: God doesn't minimize or glamorize our suffering. He transforms it. He doesn't remain distant or ambivalent. He joins us in it.

Jesus knows suffering. He experienced it Himself. And not only did He suffer with us, He suffered for us. He was crushed under the weight of sin so we wouldn't be.

Which brings us to the beautiful promise of this passage: God does not waste our pain.

In a fallen world, pain is inevitable. We can spend our lives trying to avoid it, control it, or escape it. But often the cost of avoiding pain is greater than the cost of enduring it. And when we're in the middle of suffering, we wonder if it's ever going to end.

Paul reminds us there's an "after" to suffering. After suffering comes endurance. After endurance comes character. After character comes hope. And there's an after to hope, too. No more loneliness. No more disappointments. No more doctors, because our bodies will be whole. No more tears, because everything broken will be healed.

Friends, whatever you're walking through today, suffering doesn't have the final word. Because Jesus suffered, died, & rose again, we know there's an after. And the final word belongs to love.

What if one of the biggest problems in our lives isn't that we don't know who God is, but that we keep forgetting who He is? What if so much of our anxiety, frustration, insecurity, & disappointment comes from forgetting what we already know to be true?

We know God loves us. We know He's faithful. We know He's promised to provide for us. And yet, when life gets hard, we live as though He's forgotten us. And when life is good, we often forget about Him altogether.

We have a remembering problem.

In The Silver Chair, C.S. Lewis tells the story of a young girl named Jill who is sent by Aslan to rescue a prince. Before she leaves, Aslan gives her four signs to "remember, remember, remember the signs". He warns her that things won't look like she expects, so she must remember the signs regardless of her circumstances.

Sounds familiar, doesn't it?

In Deuteronomy 6, God tells Israel to remember His words when they wake up, lie down, walk, & sit. Why? Because God knows something about us.

We all have spiritual amnesia. We forget who we are & whose we are.

King Solomon tells us in Ecclesiastes 3:11 that God has "put eternity into man's heart." Somewhere deep down, we know we were made for something more. We were made for someone more. But while we may know that, we don't always remember it.

And here's the thing: Forgetting isn't necessarily sin. We're created beings, not God. We were designed to depend on Him & one another. The problem comes when, rather than going to God, we trust ourselves.

Israel did this repeatedly. They forgot God's goodness when life was hard, longing to return to Egypt. And God warned them they'd forget Him when life was easy, too.

Isn't that true for us?

We forget God when we're anxious, lonely, or struggling. But we also forget Him when we have plenty of money, friends, & security.

Yet here's the good news: Though we may forget, God does not.

Genesis tells us God remembered Noah. Exodus tells us God remembered His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, & Jacob. After 400 years in Egypt, God saw His people, knew their suffering, & rescued them.

And ultimately, God remembered His covenant by sending Jesus, who perfectly lived the life we couldn't & redeemed us from our distractions & disobedience. Because He remembers us, we can remember Him.

But we need help. That's why our weekly rhythms of worship matter. We gather in person, hear the gospel, confess our sins, receive communion, & remind one another who God is & what He's done.

There's no magic in repetition. We simply need reminding. And when we remember, something beautiful happens.

Our jobs become ways to serve others, not our identity. Money becomes a tool, not a measure of our worth. People become people, not gods. Conflict becomes disagreement, not a judgment of someone's value.

We're free to enjoy the world for what it is, rather than demanding it become what we think we need.

Because our hope isn't in our ability to remember perfectly. It's in the God who never forgets.

What if the moments in your life that feel like the end of your story aren't actually the end at all?

On September 11, 2001, Seth MacFarlane missed his flight because he'd stayed out too late the night before, slept in, & had been given the wrong departure time. That flight was American Airlines Flight 11, the first plane to hit the World Trade Center. His story could've ended that morning, but it didn't.

And his story reminds us of something we often forget: Our stories don't stand alone. They're connected to one another, & they're all part of an even greater story.

Paul speaks to this in Colossians 3:3 when he says, "For you have died, & your life is hidden with Christ in God." In other words, His story is our story.

But what does that mean? Paul says we've died, not physically, but spiritually. We've died to ourselves, to the idolatry of self, to the love of sin. And yet, if we're honest, sin & death still feel incredibly real, don't they?

It's the pain of loss. The anxiety of uncertainty. The sadness of watching our children grow up. The disappointment when life doesn't turn out the way we'd hoped. And because these things feel so real, it's easy to think this is all there is.

But what if this isn't all there is? What if there's more to life than sin & death?

As Christians, we know there is because we know the whole story. We know how it ends.

God has been wooing & renewing His People from the moment He created us. Despite our brokenness & rebellion, He sent Jesus to redeem us. Jesus lived the life we couldn't live, died the death we deserved, & three days later rose from the dead. And one day He'll return. He'll make all things new. He'll heal our broken bodies, wipe away our tears, & draw His People to Himself forever.

This is the larger story: Jesus wins. And because our lives are hidden in Christ, His victory becomes our victory. This changes everything.

When we're insecure, we can remember He's secured our eternity. When we're anxious, we can remember one day He'll lead us by still waters. When we're grieving, we can remember one day He'll wipe away every tear. And when our lives feel like they're spiraling out of control, we can remember this isn't the end of the story.

Think about Jesus hanging on the cross. If you froze His story there, it looked like a tragedy. It looked hopeless. It looked like the end. But three days later, the stone rolled away, & Jesus walked out alive.

What looked like the end was actually the beginning. And the same is true for us. Our stories may look hopeless at times, but we're not living at the end of the story. Because He's won, we win. Because He's won, we have hope.

His story is our story.

What if the Church doesn't just want you to be a part of it, but actually needs you to be a part of it?

Wilma Rudolph was born prematurely in 1940, & by the age of five she was partially paralyzed because of polio. Doctors weren't optimistic about her recovery, but her family refused to give up hope. Her dad worked hard to provide for the family, her mom traveled 50 miles to Nashville twice a week for medical care, & her siblings massaged her legs four times a day.

And it worked. By age 12, Wilma was walking without a brace.

Here's the thing: The Church isn't that different from the Rudolph family.

We're a family that functions as a Body, & everyone has a role to play. Jesus is the Head of the Body. He's the One who gives, grows, & builds it. He isn't just important, He's ultimate.

But He also invites us to participate in what He's doing.

Paul reminds us in Ephesians 4 that God gives leaders to equip the saints for the work of ministry. And notice who actually does the work of ministry. It's the saints!

And if you haven't already guessed it, the saints are you! You're the ones who serve, teach, sing, disciple, counsel, comfort, give, pray, play, love, forgive, & challenge. You're the Body, & you make the Body work.

And your importance isn't determined by your influence or impact, but your identity. You're important because you're part of the Body.

But here's the thing: Nobody becomes a Christian & suddenly knows how to do all these things. Everyone has a role to play, & everyone needs to be equipped.

That's not only humbling, it's part of God's design. Just as He's designed our physical bodies to need their different parts, He's designed us to need one another.

We all begin as spiritual infants who need to grow. We need people who will teach us, encourage us, challenge us, & help us distinguish truth from error. And knowing this is the great equalizer.

If you tend to live in the valleys, I hope you hear Jesus: You are loved, & you are important! The Body needs you. If you tend to live on the mountaintops, I hope you hear Jesus: You are loved, & you are important, but not that important! Only Jesus is ultimate. And if you're floating somewhere in the middle, remember that without the Body we're easily tossed around by every wind & wave.

Remember Wilma Rudolph?

Because everyone in her family played their role, she didn't just learn to walk. She learned to run. And she didn't just run, she became the fastest woman in the world, winning three gold medals at the 1960 Olympics. She didn't just manage. She flourished.

And that's Jesus' heart for His Body.

He's building us together in His love, equipping us to grow, serve, & flourish together.

Because we need each other. And ultimately, we all need Him.