In the Field of Grace (29 page)

Ruth dressed layer by layer, trying not to think of her coming interview with Boaz. When she finished, she stood before Naomi, awaiting her response. Naomi rose slowly. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

“You are beautiful, my daughter. The most beautiful woman belonging to Judah.”

Only Naomi would consider her a true daughter of Judah. Ruth could feel Naomi’s genuine admiration wrap around her like a loving touch. For once, she actually felt beautiful, seeing herself through Naomi’s affectionate regard.

My mother. My true mother.

Naomi would never lead her astray. She would not expose her to needless pain. If she believed Boaz cared for her, then perhaps he did, just a little.

“Do you remember that day, on the road to Moab, what you said to me?”

“On the road to Moab?” Ruth, disconcerted by the new turn in their conversation, had a difficult time focusing.

“You said to me,
where you go, I will go; where you stay, I will stay.
”

“You remember?” Warmth filled Ruth at that realization. At the time, Naomi had acted as though her promise was an annoyance. Yet she had hidden every word in her mind, as though precious.

“I will never forget it. I want you to do something for me, Ruth. I want you to pray those words to the Lord tonight.”

“The Lord? I don’t understand.”

“Tell Him,
where You go, I will go
. Tell Him that you will follow Him, even to the threshing floor. Even if it means the pain of rejection. Tell Him,
where You stay, I will stay
. Even at the feet of Boaz, where every fear may rise up to swallow you whole. Tell Him that you will stay there and face those fears if He leads the way.

“Tell Him,
Your people will be my people
. He has given me to you as your mother. He has given you Mahalath and Dinah and Hannah as friends. And now, if He wants you to belong to Boaz, then so it shall be. And if He does not, then you will settle for the people who He does give you. The people He chooses for you will be your people. No more, no less.”

Ruth’s eyes widened with understanding. She would abandon her life, her future, her fears into God’s hands with the same all-consuming loyalty she had shown Naomi on the road to Moab.

She would walk away from the familiar. The future she knew. She would cast her life into God’s hands with the abandon of a waterfall throwing itself down a cliff. This night was not merely a chance she would take on Boaz. It was a declaration of trust in the Lord. She swallowed hard.

She had been praying the whole morning for peace and favor. Without warning, that peace descended and covered her with the same delicate touch as Boaz’s veil covered her head. The Lord was worthy of her abandon. Worthy of her obedience. Worthy to hold her whole life in the palm of His hand. Slowly, she nodded her agreement to Naomi.

Naomi caressed her shoulder. “Another thing. You should understand that the Lord speaks these words to
you
. He is not sending you to Boaz’s presence alone. With every step you take toward that
threshing floor, the Father of our people makes a promise to you.
Where you go, I will go
. He will not abandon you to go to Boaz by yourself. He will go with you.

“Can you not hear Him promising you,
where you stay, I will stay
?
He
is not afraid.
He
is not overcome by what overcomes you, Ruth. When you linger with Boaz, in those lonely, dark hours as you wait for him to fall asleep, God Himself will abide with you. He will give you His strength to do what you must. Do you understand?”

“I am trying. It seems too good to be true.”

Naomi shook her head. “Do not doubt for a moment. It
is
true. The Lord also wants you to accept that your people will be
His
people. There is not one person you love whose burden you need to carry alone. Because if they belong to you, then they belong to Him even more. The Lord will take care of me and of Boaz and of Mahalath and of Dinah and Adin too.”

Ruth felt the comfort of Naomi’s assurance drive away the paralysis of fear. She was not alone. God Himself accompanied her. If she surrendered her life to Him, He would lavish His care upon her. With blazing and sudden certainty, she realized that regardless of the outcome of this night’s meeting, she would be well. She would have the Lord all the days of her life, and that would be sufficient, even if Boaz did not want her.

Stealth did not come naturally to Ruth. She showed her heart on her face even when she did not wish to. Hiding behind a large mountain of barley, stored near the threshing floor, she waited out the evening hours as others ate and feasted. Her pulse pounded with disturbing intensity, making her dizzy.

She watched Boaz eat and a strange tenderness filled her. A single grain of roasted barley had lodged in his neat beard, and she longed to reach out and wipe it away, and to tease him about his carelessness. He noticed it and removed it with a quick smile, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin. He had beautiful manners,
more like a prince than a simple landowner in a small city.

With typical generosity, he had slaughtered several sheep for his workers, and the mouthwatering aroma of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the evening. Women served platters of hot food and fresh herbs piled high for everyone to enjoy.

Boaz lifted his cup and took a deep swallow, laughing at something Abel said. The sound of his laughter was rich and deep. Ruth tried to imagine having the right to hear that laughter all the days of her life. Having the right to call him
hers
. She fought the onslaught of hopeless tears. God would take care of her, she reminded herself, whether Boaz wanted her or not. Hopelessness had no place in God’s plans for her.

Boaz tipped his cup toward his mouth again and after lowering it to the floor, teased Adin with a poke in the ribs. Adin was the center of much humor that night, for after a protracted and hesitant pursuit, he had made short work of the engagement and celebrated his betrothal to Dinah the day before. Once the two had come together, there had been no wasted time.

More jovial eating and drinking followed, until exhausted but content everyone left for home, or found a private corner near the threshing floor to bed down for the night. The evening had turned chill, and Boaz, alone now, unrolled a woolen cloak, moved to a pile of fresh hay, and wrapped it snugly around his body. He turned on his side and closed his eyes with a deep sigh.

Ruth waited in careful silence for a long time, until the moon rose high and everyone seemed sunk into deep slumber. She approached Boaz on bare feet so as not to make a sound.

Help me not to fear. Help me to stand firm. Please Lord, may I see Your salvation for me and Naomi today.

Ruth reached down and untangled the cloak from around Boaz’s feet and ankles, shoving the coverings and his tunic up with one movement. It was a bold gesture, redolent of a sensual offering that made Ruth turn pink.

Without making a sound, she lay down at his feet. Her heart
beat loud enough to awaken an army of men. She wondered how he slept on so peacefully. Part of her wanted to shake him awake and be finished with her torment.

Hours seemed to pass, stretching Ruth’s nerves and exhausting her patience. The moon rose high. Stars twinkled in an increasingly dark sky.

She began to despair. What if he slept on, never giving her the opportunity to put Naomi’s insane plan into action? If so, she concluded that would be the Lord’s way of protecting her from making a considerable mistake. She would not take matters into her hands any more than she had already done.

Something startled Boaz awake. He sensed the lateness of the hour. It had grown chill and his feet were freezing. A deep stillness hung about him, and yet he could not shake the impression that he was not alone. He rolled over, eyes narrowing, wondering if a thief had slunk over to filch the threshed barley. A thief would have been bad enough. Instead, he found the supine form of a woman lying inexplicably at his feet. He stared in stunned disbelief, the last vestiges of sleep evaporating.

“Who are you?” he asked in a loud whisper, whipping up into a sitting position.

With a slow movement, the woman turned to perch at his feet. His
bared
feet, he noticed with shock. In a gesture that was ridiculously
modest under the circumstances, she tucked her legs up against her hips. Long before she opened her mouth, he already knew her.

Her voice was soft and shy. “I am your maidservant, Ruth.”

“Ruth?” Boaz repeated, his mouth dry, as if he hadn’t already known. What was she doing here? Alone? With him? What did she mean, baring his feet in the middle of the night? Was she throwing herself at him? Had some strange waking dream taken hold of his mind? He could not credit the reality of this scene, unfolding in the deep watches of the night.

She leaned forward without touching him. “Spread the corner of your covering over me, Boaz.”

His eyes widened. She wanted him to
marry
her? She had sneaked upon him, coming as close to the privacy of a bedchamber as a respectable woman could manage, in order to propose marriage to him? He was struck dumb. What drove her to this drastic and unconventional proposal? Need? Guilt? Duty? He wanted to ask a hundred questions, and yet the words would not come.

In the vacuum of his response, she lowered her eyes and bit her lips. “You are my kinsman redeemer.”

He reached out a hand, noticing that it trembled, and unable to steady himself, lifted her chin and stared at her. Drenched in moonlight and starlight and the weak shadow of a distant torch, he saw the dismay on her face. Fear that he would reject her. And then he saw something else that melted his heart. She was looking at him with hunger. With longing. It wasn’t duty driving her to this ridiculous length.

He almost pulled her into his arms then. He stopped himself just in time, closing his eyes tight as he brought himself under tight rein. The fingers that held her chin withdrew, lest the temptation prove too strong. She was too vulnerable, alone with him, and he refused to take advantage of her. If she were to be his, he would do it right. He would have no stain upon her character on his account.

He gulped in a great gush of air to steady himself. Steady the onrush of joy that had blossomed into the most powerful wave of desire he had ever known. He wanted this woman more than he wanted breath. And the Lord had dropped her into his arms like a ripe peach. He would treat her with the respect due her and due to the Lord who brought her to him.

“The Lord bless you,” he said, and heard the trembling in his voice and couldn’t even feel ashamed for his weakness. “My daughter,” he added, hoping she would read his intention in those words of respect and be reassured that he would not exploit her vulnerability.

Her pale veil had slipped off her head onto her shoulders. Her
hair had been arranged in a complex sweep of twining braids. A stray thin braid had escaped to lie against her cheek. Without his volition, his fingers lifted the braid. It felt like silk in his hold; he wanted to pull it until she came close enough to touch. He forced himself to let her go.

“This kindness is even greater than that which you showed Naomi.”

“Kindness, my lord? What kindness am I showing you?” She drew nearer and he smiled at that trusting gesture.

“Choosing me for your husband. I could not ask for a greater blessing. You could have sought after younger men who would no doubt welcome you. Whether rich or poor, what man would deny you?”

She gave him a doubting smile and shook her head as if to contradict the possibility of such a thing. He laughed at her modesty and reached for her hand, desperate to touch her, just a little. What had she said? She had asked him to act as her kinsman redeemer. A sharp twisting pain ruptured his incandescent joy when he recalled the complexity of that request.
Jaala!

His belly convulsed in knots. Jaala had more right to Ruth than he did. And Jaala was not a man to give up his rights easily. Boaz shook his head. The God who brought Ruth to his side in the middle of the night would help bring her safely to abide in his home for the rest of his life.