When We Carry His Heart

There’s something about the book of Ruth that just lingers.

It’s not flashy. There are no burning bushes, no parted seas, no plagues or prophets calling down fire from heaven. It’s just… life. Ordinary. Hard. Tender. Messy. And sacred. So sacred.

And yet, somehow, God’s fingerprints are all over it. Not through overt miracles, but through people. Through kindness. Through sacrifice. Through presence.

That’s what moves me the most about Ruth. It’s not just a story about loyalty or romance or redemption. It’s a story about how we, in all our human limitations, can carry the heart of God to one another.

Ruth carried God’s loyalty.

When Naomi had nothing left, no husband, no sons, no security, Ruth stayed. She didn’t have to. She could’ve chosen ease, safety, a fresh start. But she said those famous words:

“Where you go, I will go… your people will be my people, and your God, my God.”

That’s what the love of God looks like.
Not running from the wreckage, but standing in it with someone. Choosing to stay when everything is falling apart.
That’s the kind of faithfulness God shows us and through Ruth, we see it in flesh and blood.

Boaz carried God’s provision and protection.

He didn’t just give Ruth grain. He gave her dignity. Safety. Honor. He saw her worth before she saw it in herself.
And isn’t that just like God?
To not only provide what we need, but to remind us we’re not invisible. That we matter. That we are seen.

Boaz could have dismissed her. She was poor. A foreigner. A woman with no status. But he didn’t. He leaned in. He covered her with mercy. And that’s exactly what God does, time and time again.

Naomi carried God’s transformation

She began bitter, empty, broken, convinced God had turned His back on her.

“Call me Mara,” she said. “For the Lord has made my life very bitter.”

And I get that. I’ve been there. When everything you hoped for is gone, when prayers feel like they vanish into silence, when grief crushes the breath out of your chest.

But even in her bitterness, Naomi kept walking. She didn’t give up. She didn’t run from God, she limped toward Him.

And in the end? We see her holding a baby in her arms.
Not her own, but one born of her grief and Ruth’s faithfulness.
Hope was reborn. And she got to hold it.

What Ruth reminds me is this:

We don’t always need to preach sermons or move mountains to show people God.
Sometimes we just need to show up.

To stay.
To give generously.
To speak gently.
To protect.
To choose kindness even when it’s inconvenient.
To be vessels of love when others are empty.

Because the way God reaches people… is through people.

And maybe, just maybe, we get to be someone’s Ruth. Someone’s Boaz. Someone’s Naomi. A reflection of God’s loyalty, protection, and redemptive love… even in the ordinary.

So if you’re reading this and feeling small or unseen, take heart. God uses ordinary people to do extraordinary things. Not by their own power, but by carrying His

And if you’re in a bitter season? That’s okay too.
Don’t rush the healing. Just keep walking. Redemption may not be loud, but it’s coming. It always is.

Prayer

Father,
Thank You for using ordinary people to carry Your extraordinary love. Teach me to walk in loyalty like Ruth, to serve with compassion like Boaz, and to trust You in the bitter places like Naomi. When I feel small, remind me that You delight in using the small. When I feel unseen, remind me that You are the God who sees. Help me be Your hands, Your voice, Your heart to those around me. Let my love reflect Your love. Let my presence reflect Your presence. And when I fall short, remind me that Your grace always fills the gap.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.