Heavy and icky, a sense of doom presses down on me. At night, it jerks me from my sleep with scenes from what-if scenarios raising my pulse as efficiently as any horror move while endless do-do lists scroll like credits in the background.

If 2014 treated you harshly, you are not alone. So many solid, sincere souls echo the shared lamentation: This year was rough! Not just “I’m exhausted/disappointed/stressed out” rough – no, this was the kind of wicked, whipping torment more akin to a hurricane relentlessly pounding on people already shipwrecked, just barely holding on to the remnants of their man-made security for sheer survival.

Waiting is a womb pregnant with hope and fear. Worst case scenarios wrestle with words of promise, and through it, a deeper yielding grows inside.

I miss her voice the most. Like sunlight shimmering in a gently streaming rivulet, her words illuminated my soul with a glow that both comforted and inspired me. Oddly, I simultaneously relaxed into a deep sense of home and felt my chest swell with a burst of fresh adventure when I was with her.

The browning Christmas tree awaits its final fate at the curb. It’s the kind of grey January day that signals the return to schedules, alarm clocks, routine. I like it. I find beauty in the constants. But after weeks of family sleeping everywhere and tripping in line outside our one bathroom, an aching emptiness throbs in my throat.

I am furiously typing away because I woke up to a quiet house this morning and grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down to read the first chapter. Then I ran to the computer and here I am. And oh my sister! I don’t even know how to express to you what I am feeling or thinking. I felt like, something happened. Someone else gets it. I am not crazy.

Invite the Lord’s blessing:

Ruth 4:11

“And all the people who were at the gate, and the elders, said, “ We are witnesses. The Lord make the woman who is coming to your house like Rachel and Leah, the two who built the house of Israel; and may you prosper in Ephrathah and be famous in Bethlehem.” Who are witnesses to your life?

Invite the Holy Spirit to speak to you:

Ruth 4:1

“Now Boaz went up to the gate and sat down there; and behold, the close relative of whom Boaz had spoken came by. So Boaz said, “Come aside, friend, sit down here.” So he came aside and sat down.” Are you in any way at a gate, a cross road, a choice to be made:

Security

Tell your Father why you love Him:

Ruth 3:1

“Then Naomi her mother- in- law said to her, “My daughter, shall I not seek security for you, that it may be well with you?” What comes to mind when you think of security?

Comfort without Comparison

Ask your Father to show you His love afresh:

Ruth 2:13

“Then she said, “Let me find favor in your sight, my lord; for you have comforted me, and have spoken kindly to your maidservant, though I am not like one of your maidservants.” Describe comfort:

Like the pressure of a slowly approaching tropical storm, this was a year of gradually increasing weight on my aging shoulders. Too much for one so clumsy in life, still learning to be an adult despite the spiderweb of lines on my face.

I have informed my Maker of this on countless occasions.

Ruth 2:10

“So she fell on her face, bowed down to the ground, and said to him, “ Why have I found favor in your eyes, that you should take notice of me, since I am a foreigner?” What emotions do you think prompted in Ruth’s question?

No pain pierces me more than that of watching helplessly when a loved one is in agony like an unprotected nerve, it sends jolts of sharp shocks through my system, and everything inside me is in that primal, raw state of I must act! I must stop this. Now!

Before we actually turn to the pages of the Book of Ruth, let’s set the stage and prepare our understanding. The words have different meaning when we know who is speaking. I listen differently to someone I might suspect to be a con artist than to my dearest friend. I can’t separate the words from the person speaking them.

Welcome to my virtual garden at the ocean’s edge. Come, lean into the winds blowing from eternity and let them touch you where you need it most. This is a place of holding raw reality in open hands to the Creator Who gives beauty for ashes, Who understands every fluttering heart beat, and Who loves us at our worst.