Moments of Waiting

By Gayle Thornberry


Her heart was beating like Congo drums in her ears, as she stole away across the fields she had earlier helped glean. The 'thump, thump, thump,' in her gut was mixed with equal amounts of fear and excitement at what she might soon encounter, but it was the possibility of God's promise of future that kept her pushing on as she stumbled over dirt clods and splintery tufts of un-harvested barley. But, finally all the preparation of the day; the bathing, the perfuming, the anointing . . . and certainly, the praying, had brought her to this place. For here she stood standing just inside the darkness, but outside the light of the threshing floor. She was able to watch the activity of those on the night shift guarding the barley harvest, without being noticed, like one who was "casing out" her coming reward. She could almost see, and all but touch, the work God was doing on her behalf.

In this place of tension between the "almost" and the "not yet," she had decisions to make. She could press on, sneak in and cover herself with the hem of his garment, or she could allow all the questions about "how can this be any part of God's plan?" make her turn around and run. Did she have the fortitude and faith to press on when the plan now seemed more ridiculous than righteous? Would she even question now in the cold emptiness on the night hours her very relationship with the Almighty? Or, would she take the risk of being wrong, or worse, being rejected by her intended bridegroom?

As for the Biblical story of Ruth; we know she pressed on. She quietly and humbly slipped in and lied patiently under the covering of the bridegroom's hem awaiting his approval of her actions. The night must have seemed to go on forever. Those minutes ticking away with the beating of her heart, that tick, tick, tick . . . seemed endless.

Listen to the text found in Ruth 3:7b-10a:

Then she came stealthily and uncovered his feet, and lay down. At midnight the man was startled, and turned over, and there, lying at his feet as a woman! He said, "Who are you?" And she answered, "I am Ruth, your servant; spread your cloak over your servant for you are next-of-kin." He said, May you be blessed by the Lord, my daughter; this last instance of your loyalty is better than the first . . . "

Then, the true test was to come. She was wrong about her facts. Boaz was NOT her next of kin, in fact there was another . . . and even after the risk she had just taken, it could be that he, not Boaz might become her husband. She had to wait once again in the tension of the "almost," but "not yet." What would her waiting be like? Would she fret over her questions about what in the world God was doing?"  Would she resort to her past stand-by questions regarding God's love for her, His acceptance of her, or even if His promises were even true?  After all, she had been faithful . . . she took a huge risk and did what she felt called to do, and all for what? Why would God create this mess? Didn't God know the facts? Why the wait? Why this moment? Why not just a reward for faithfulness?

Unfortunately and fortunately, this is a story we can all relate to, the almost and the not yet, the yes, but wait moments of God, where we are challenged with lying under the hem of His garment, patiently and without question. But, everything seems to be so big to us. Everything is such a crisis of faith. We don't know how to just lay there without trying to wiggle out from under the very plan and covering of God that we've prayed for. Ruth waited. She had no choice, for she was an unwelcome foreigner, with no resort except to trust God. We too, are unwelcome foreigners in this land and we need to learn how to wait and trust without it being a crisis of our faith. It's a crisis of our faith, because we don't have proper perspective. If we had lived through a drought, the death and only provision of a husband, barrenness, rejection of the community of faith around you, hard, long, hours of field work in order to eat . . . we might look differently at those moments of tension between the "almost" and the "not yet." We might actually view them with potential and excitement rather than discouragement and doubt.

Would it be that we would not kick off the covers that God is working to place over us. Would it be that we would lie still, quiet and patient under the working, invisible hand of God as he prepares the garment of praise with which He desires to cover us.