October 06, 2024 Reflection

Picture of Rev. Carla Wilks

Rev. Carla Wilks

Associate Minister

I've been meaning to ask you

“Where Do We Go From Here?”

Scripture Reading: Ruth 1:1-22

 

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Today’s scripture from the book of Ruth is one that moves through heartbreak, to resilience, and finally to hope. It begins with tragedy—the loss of a home, the loss of a spouse, and the loss of sons. Naomi is left destitute and alone in a foreign land, facing a desolate future. Her situation prompts the poignant question: “Where do we go from here?” Today is the last week of this series, and our question is an important one. 

This is a question many of us have faced in our own lives when we have experienced something that for us was a life changing experience.  This question looms large when a job is lost, when a marriage ends, when we have a devastating diagnosis or when a loved one dies. In those moments, it can feel as though everything that was once solid has been shaken to its very core. We find ourselves disoriented, unsure of the next step. So, what do we do when life leaves us wondering, “Where do we go from here?”

Naomi’s story begins in Moab, a place of refuge turned bitter for her after the loss of her family. When Naomi hears that the Lord had blessed Judah with food once again, she makes a bold decision to return to her homeland. Despite her sorrow and emptiness, Naomi chooses to move forward.

The first lesson from Naomi’s story is the courage to move forward, even when we are not sure what lies ahead. Naomi’s journey back to Bethlehem wasn’t an easy one. She traveled with a heavy heart, filled with uncertainty and grief. But she took the step. When we find ourselves in places of sorrow, we sometimes feel stuck.  Sometimes we can’t bear to see where to take the next step. We know that we don’t want the tragedy or difficult life event to define us, but we don’t know where to go.

My first difficult life changing time was when my husband left me unexpectedly when our children were very young.  I did not know what to do or where to turn.  Some days it was too overwhelming for me to think about the future, so I would only think about what I was going to feed my kids for their next meal, or focus in on a very small goal.  Focusing on routine things helped to get through each day.  Sometimes the routine tasks give us a little bit of a distraction in order to move forward.  One thing that I found helpful during this time was when an acquaintance reached out and befriended me.  She had been through a similar experience the previous year.  It was so helpful to see someone who was a little bit further ahead of me on the road. It gave me hope that my situation would not feel like it was consuming me quite so much in future.  This is why people find grief groups so helpful, or connecting with others who are in a similar situation that they are, perhaps at different stages of their journey.  While no one has the same experience even in similar situations, sometimes it is helpful to connect with others, in order to see a different perspective from people who might be able to relate to the ups and downs of your particular journey. 

In the midst of Naomi’s despair, we see a remarkable act of solidarity. Ruth, her daughter-in-law, chooses to remain by Naomi’s side, uttering the powerful words: “Where you go, I will go; where you stay, I will stay. Your people will be my people, and your God, my God.” (Ruth 1:16) Ruth’s commitment is not just to Naomi, but to the journey itself. It’s a commitment to sharing in Naomi’s sorrow and embracing her uncertain future. 

Ruth’s decision embodies a deep truth: We are not meant to journey through our struggles alone. When we face disruptions or tragedies, it’s our communities—our friends, our family, our faith communities—that help us navigate the road ahead. Sometimes, answering the question, “Where do we go from here?” means allowing others to walk with us, to hold us up, and to share in our burdens.

When Naomi arrives back in Bethlehem, she says, “Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter.” She acknowledges her pain without sugarcoating it. She does not deny the depth of her suffering. This honest confrontation with grief is important. There is no healing without first acknowledging the wound.

In our society sometimes people are in a hurry to bypass the grief and move on.  Or worse yet – other people are in a hurry to get us to bypass our grief and move on.  We (speaking generally) don’t like to spend time sitting in our grief – but sometimes that’s exactly what we need to do in order to find a way forward. I wonder how many of you have had similar situations – where friends have basically told you it’s time to move on.  Sometimes we do this when we don’t even realize it.  A comment to a woman who has miscarried, saying oh well, you can have another, instead of sitting with her in her grief. Or when a relationship ends “you’ll meet someone else.”  Or someone who lost a loved one – ‘you have so many wonderful memories” Yes – a wonderful sentiment but doesn’t acknowledge the place of grief.  Even the greeting card companies like to fill sympathy cards with those type of sentiments. I’m sure I have sent cards like that myself.   We need to acknowledge our grief before we can move into the next steps.  And we need to do it on our own timing, not anyone else’s.

Naomi’s story doesn’t end with her bitterness. Even though she initially saw no hope, she still took the steps back to her homeland. And Ruth, through her loyalty, became an instrument of grace and hope in Naomi’s life. Together, they found a new purpose—a new chapter unfolded that eventually brought redemption and new life.

Ruth and Naomi couldn’t see what the future held. They didn’t know that Ruth would meet Boaz or that she would become the great-grandmother of King David. They simply moved forward in faith, one step at a time. This is perhaps the hardest part of our own journeys—trusting God when we cannot see the path ahead. When the road seems dark, faith means trusting that God is not finished with our story yet.

The journey of grief and healing is not linear. It’s more like an unwelcome guest that brings along a host of difficult emotions. A poem that I recently came across by Becky Hemsley describes this experience well:

 

I held a party the other week and grief came.
She wasn’t invited but she came anyway—barged her way in through the door and settled down like she was here to stay.
And then she introduced me to the friends she’d brought with her—Anger. Fear. Frustration. Guilt. Hopelessness.
And they sang in the loudest voices, took up space in every corner of the room, and spoke over anyone else who tried to talk.
They made it messy, loud, and uncomfortable.
But finally, they left.
And long afterward, when I was all alone,
I realized there was still someone here.
Quietly clearing up after the rest.
I asked who she was and she told me, “Love.”
And I assumed that’s why she looked familiar—because I had met her before.
“Or perhaps,” she said, “it’s because I’ve been here the whole time.”
And I was confused then because I hadn’t seen her all evening.
But when I looked more closely,
when I looked into her eyes,
I realized quietly that she had been here.
All the time.
She’d just been dressed as grief.

When grief and its companions—Anger, Fear, Frustration, Guilt, Hopelessness—barges into our lives, they create chaos, messiness, and discomfort. They take up space and overshadow everything else. But after the storm of emotions subsides, if we look closely, we may find Love quietly present, clearing up after the turmoil. Love is the reason we have grief.  If we did not love, we wouldn’t grieve the loss. Sometimes, love is hidden beneath grief, quietly abiding and steadfast, even when we cannot recognize it.

Love remains. Love has been there all along. This is the love of God—faithfully abiding with us, even in our darkest moments. And this love calls us to move forward, as Naomi did. The courage to move forward doesn’t mean leaving our grief behind or pretending it doesn’t hurt. It means moving through it, trusting that love will walk with us.

The book of Ruth teaches us that no matter how devastated or uprooted we may feel, God walks with us through the wilderness, offering us new beginnings in ways we could never imagine. It calls us to continue on, to seek healing, and to believe that beauty can rise from the ashes of our brokenness.

So, where do we go from here? We go forward with courage, like Naomi. We go with solidarity and support, like Ruth. We acknowledge our pain, yet remain open to unexpected grace. And most importantly, we walk in faith, trusting that God is guiding us toward a future of renewal and restoration, even when we cannot yet see the way.

 

And in all of this, we remember that God’s story is not one of abandonment or despair. It is one of transformation. Even in our hardest moments, God is weaving together a narrative of hope and redemption. So, when life shakes us to our core and we wonder, “Where do we go from here?” we go forward—together, with love, faith, and hope.

Amen.