Blog Posts, Previous Posts, Relationships

Call Me Naomi

If you’re familiar with the biblical story of Ruth, you probably know of the happy ending that involved Ruth and Boaz marrying and becoming a part of the lineage of Jesus Christ. In case you aren’t so acquainted, here are the Cliff Notes, my version that is…

There was a woman named Naomi who had a husband and two married sons. At some point all the men died, leaving Naomi and her two daughter in-laws, Orpah and Ruth to fend for themselves. Naomi decided to go back to her home country. Orpah thought that was a good idea and returned to her family. But Ruth said she’d go with Naomi.

Photo by Ante from Pexels

At some point Naomi, due to her grief, said “Call me Mara,” which means bitterness. Still, Ruth stuck with her, and they both arrived in Bethlehem, Naomi’s hometown. Eventually, Ruth, listening to the sage old advice of Naomi, met and married Boaz (by the way, Boaz is the son of Rahab – the same Rahab who lied to protect Joshua and Caleb {Joshua 2}). A Rahab reared a Boaz! That’s going to mean something to a few of you!

Ok, back to the Cliff Notes… Ruth and Boaz had a son and named him Obed (who would grow up to be King David’s grandfather. Yes! Rahab is King David’s great-grandmother!!) Because of tradition and Ruth being now being part of Naomi’s family line… Obed is considered Naomi’s grandson.

Why am I giving you this quick and dirty run down you ask?

When my daughter and I left Indiana back in 2009, the church we attended spoke of our leaving as an adventure. When one elder stated our leaving was like Naomi and Ruth (I don’t see it either… it’s not like anyone had died or anything), some others added that I should be excited about the possibility of meeting my Boaz.

For a long time after that, I would wonder if any of those people ever read their Bibles. See, if Candace and I were like Naomi and Ruth, then Candace is Ruth and it’s Ruth who gets swept off her feet by Boaz. Naomi, me… at best would be a babysitting grandparent. But guess what?! I am a babysitting grandparent!

No one died… No one temporarily changed their name to Mara… No one had to glean any fields… No one had to bargain for land that came with mouths to feed… No! But a beautiful grandchild did come about, and I have the honor of caring for her during the week.

If I hadn’t already considered how special my role in Aevrie’s life would be, I certainly did when the doctor handed me the scissors and told me to cut the umbilical cord. The adventure others mentioned in 2009 hasn’t ended. Or is it just beginning? After seven months into this thing called grandparenthood, I’m still finding my way. But for now: call me Naomi.

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