I am, by nature, an observer. Usually I latch onto something strange and obscure during my low key “Harriet the Spy” moments. I mean, I look like I am just rolling along through the moment but in my head I am cataloging facts and asking questions like, “Why does that guy have one pants leg tucked in his sock?” Or, “Their right ear is MUCH lower than the left.”
I cannot help it. It’s just happening in here.
I look at people when they talk. And I listen to what they say and what they don’t say.
I have been a nurse for almost 30 years. That is hard for me to fathom. I think by nature real nurses are observers. (I say real nurses because I came from the era when we actually made rounds and checked on our own patients) We are always in assessment mode, checking for what is obvious and what may not be, what is voiced and what is left unsaid. I can see the change in expression, subtle guarding, and see a story unfold with no words spoken.
One of my “observations” made over the years is that when a patient under my care passed away I could tell a lot about the family and the dynamics by the reaction to the death, mainly in the elderly patients.
My first experience with losing a patient was an elderly woman one day when I was pulled to ICU. Her husband sat at her side holding and stroking her hand. Finally he said, “I guess we won’t go picking flowers again.”
My heart broke.
His children were there providing silent comfort and support, quietly loving on their father.
Then another time the family came in and the daughter arrived after the father was gone. She went crazy. I chased her into the parking lot and we had to physically restrain her from harming herself.
After I learned she and her father were estranged.
I noticed over time that usually the family members that “carried on” the most were in some way disconnected from the person who died or there was some kind of drama surrounding their relationship. And I could always sense that thread of bitterness in their over the top grief.
One of my favorite saying is “Be careful when you plant bitterness in the garden of your life.”
I think that is a Sheri Original.
When you plant bitterness, you grow bitterness and your children eat from your bitter garden.
Do bad things happen? Sure they do! They happen to everyone. People let you down. You get hurt. You get disappointed. You suffer loss. Things don’t go your way.
This is life.
Naomi had lost her husband and her sons and was in a land alone with no family but her daughters in law who had no obligation to her.
In Ruth 1:20 And she said unto them, Call me not Naomi, call me Mara: for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me.
Life had not turned out as she had planned. So, what did she do? She turned around and went back to where she came from. She heard that the Lord had been providing for her people back home in Bethlehemjudah and knew she needed to return to the place of provision and leave Moab which means “just short of the promised land.”
Obviously Naomi had lived her life in such a way that these “daughters” who were not of her blood wept at the thought of leaving her. And although Orpah did return to her family, Ruth refused. She was committed to Naomi.
I don’t think that kind of commitment came from Naomi being a gossip. From Naomi running people down. From Naomi gripping and complaining. I think that commitment came from Naomi having grace.
Ruth said she would remain with Naomi even after they were both buried. No histrionics were noted in this declaration.
Naomi didn’t have a name change. She had a moment. And then she pulled herself up and moved on. Nowhere else do I note her being called Mara, although if anyone had a right to be bitter, Naomi did. But she did not plant bitterness. And in Ruth Chapter 4 we see the results.
Ruth 4:17 And the women her neighbours gave it a name, saying, There is a son born to Naomi; and they called his name Obed: he is the father of Jesse, the father of David.
Right now I can put my finger on situations in life where people are standing at crossroads. I have watched them standing on the bank of their waters, holding a gallon of salt. And those wonderful refreshing waters are in danger of being polluted with their bitterness.
Here is the deal. I went through a lot of things, and most of those things were self-inflicted. I did not heed to the voice of the Shepherd. And because of that, I ended up, swallowed down into the waters of life. And life was full of heartache. Now, I could have pointed my finger in all kinds of directions, but as my pastor years ago said when you point your finger at others you have three more pointing back at you.
You cannot have a refreshing place for your family and bitterness. You cannot grow your family in love, peace and joy if you are feeding them the slop of life by your attitude.
Out of Naomi’s heartache and grief came the lineage of the King of Kings. Out of her loss and out of the decision to move to Moab to begin with, came the Prince of Peace.
And this happened because there was something in Naomi that made Ruth desire to leave behind her people and remain with her mother in law even after there was no tie remaining. Naomi may have been crushed but she got up, she changed her situation, she returned home, and then she directed Ruth into her future.
A good future.
A godly future.
Her people became Ruth’s people.
The laws Naomi followed became Ruth’s laws.
And Naomi is not remembered as Mara.
She is remembered by her name which means
Pleasant
Gentle
What legacy are you leaving for your heritage? Have you allowed the waters of bitterness to fill the pool of your heart, to pump through your blood and be passed down to the next generation?
You cannot operate in bitterness and expect an outcome of joy. The two cannot dwell together.
The choice is yours today.
