In the Field of Grace (34 page)

Boaz snapped up his head. “Ruth! How could you think such a thing?”

A tear trickled down her cheek, followed by another. She dashed at them. “I can see you are sad. Why else would you not rejoice at such a blessing?”

He wiped her tears. For a moment, he gazed at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. With a strangled sound in his throat, he pulled her into his arms, his movements rough with tension. His kiss was possessive, hard, like a stamp of ownership. Like a cry of desperation. He kissed her and kissed her until she forgot what she was crying about.

“You are my wife. My love. Don’t ever pull Judith between us again. She was my past. You are my today. My tomorrow.” He kissed her again, and this time he marked her with tenderness.

“Why then,” she asked, a long time later. “Why aren’t you happy?”

He rose and pulled his discarded mantle about him. “It’s hard for me to speak of this, Ruth.” With his back to her, he said, “The babes ruined Judith’s health. In the end, they were the death of her.”

He took a deep breath, and Ruth could tell from the rigidity of his back, from his harsh breathing and his gruff voice that he did not wish to speak to her about his struggles. But for her sake he forced himself to go on. “I know this child is what you have always wanted. I want to be happy for you. But to me, this pregnancy is like a bucket that has pulled up all the fear out of the well of my memories. How am I supposed to celebrate a child who might make
you sick? Or take you from me altogether? I just found you. How shall I live if this child robs you from me?”

Ruth went to stand by him. She leaned against his side. Through the fine wool of his mantle she could feel the chill of his skin; it made her shiver. “The babies didn’t take Judith from you, Boaz. Death did. And you told me yourself that death did not have the last word. Aren’t they with the Lord? Didn’t He have the final victory?”

In the lengthening shadows of the room, Boaz remained mute. She held him in the darkness, trying to infuse him with the reassurance of her touch. He did not hold her back.

The rain poured as though someone had ripped a hole in the sky. Each drop, the size of a sparrow’s egg, found its way to the earth and soaked everything in its path. Boaz walked through the olive grove, unmindful of the cold and the wet. He had slept little the night before, thinking of Ruth’s words. When had he begun to confuse his babies with death itself? When had he begun to resent them?

Reject them?

Ruth was right. They had been as much victims of death as Judith herself. Fear and grief had confused his thinking. Sometime in the dark months after Judith’s death, he had begun to see those babies as the enemy. And now that Ruth carried his child, the enemy had come back to haunt him.

He had tried, in the darkness of the night, with Ruth’s breaths gently stirring against his shoulder, to simply change his feelings. Rejoice over the conception of his child.

And to his shame, he could not. He could not simply decide to love that life growing inside his wife.

He could not bring himself to rejoice over the tiny creature being nourished inside her womb, drinking up her life and strength with a hungry greed that cared nothing for her well-being. He had walked the valley of death too long and knew it too well not to fear
its all-consuming power. He had lost one wife to death’s grip at a time that should have brought joy. He could not overcome the possibility that death might visit him again when he was least prepared for its hungry jaws.

He could not accept this child as a blessing from God.

When had he given so much ground to lies?

He pressed his palm into the gnarly bark of an olive tree. “God, help me!” His cry ripped into the silence like the roar of a madman.

Your child is a boy. A little boy, Boaz. I have plans for his welfare. Plans to give him a future and a hope. He will give rise to a great lineage. And from him shall flow rivers of living water down into the generations. Through him, the nations shall rejoice.

Boaz froze, sensing the presence of God. Sensing divine power and holiness about him. He fell to his knees, and then on his face. “Lord!” he croaked.

Open your eyes to Me, My child. See Me. Let My love cover the darkness within you. Let it wipe away the memory of grief. Set your mind on Me, not on death.

Boaz grappled with that command. Had he set his mind more on death than on God? Had he ascribed more power to death than to God? “Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me for fearing death more than I trust You.”

I never left you. I never left Judith or your children. I remained near them every step of their journey. They are safe in My presence. I never abandoned you, Boaz. Death is your enemy. Not I. Not your babies. Death is your enemy and Mine. Fear not, for I have set My heart on overcoming Death forever.

A shower of warmth unlike anything Boaz had ever experienced covered him. He knew, without being able to explain, that the Lord had washed him of his sin. Later, he resolved, he would offer an unblemished lamb as a sacrifice to God. But even now, before the blood of that sacrifice covered him, he experienced a peace unlike anything he had ever tasted.

He realized that he had turned his experience with Judith into
an expectation. As if God only had this one plan in mind for him. As if the past was the measure of the future. What he needed to learn was that God’s plans were always a mystery. He could not predict God’s intention for the future by His actions in the past. The Lord had allowed Judith and his children to die. That did not mean that He intended Ruth and her baby to suffer the same destiny.

Boaz returned home soaked through with rain and tears. For the first time in weeks he felt tranquil. He knew that he would have to fight in order to keep the peace God had offered. Fear and anxiety were not done with him.

He sensed that God was not finished with this lesson. He had more to learn about the plans and providence of God. That thought made him smile and shiver at the same time. But for now he could rest in the lingering sweetness of God’s presence.

D
inah came to visit Ruth one sunny afternoon. Since her marriage, Ruth had invited the young bride a number of times to her house. Because of Boaz’s status, Dinah never felt quite at home, but she came swallowing her awkwardness. Ruth treasured each visit, knowing what it cost Dinah to come.

When they had partaken of Naomi’s mouthwatering spiced honey cakes, Dinah collapsed against the cushions. “These pillows are so soft, I’m likely to fall asleep on you. Mind you, I fall asleep all the time these days. You might as well hear it from me: I’m going to have a baby.”

Ruth’s eyes widened. “No! Is it true?” She laughed. “I’m so happy for you.”

Dinah’s smile sparkled with pleasure. She reached for another honey cake and stuffed it in her mouth. “This one’s for the baby.”

Ruth picked a second cake. “In that case, I should also eat another.”

“Wait. Does that mean …?”

“I am expecting a babe also.”

Dinah jumped up and pulled Ruth to her feet for an exuberant embrace. “We are going to be mothers together. I am so happy!”

“How does Adin feel about your news?”

“He went a bit green and mumbled something about more mouths to feed. Then he laughed and kissed me and said God had
blessed him with a good wife. Ruth, I don’t mean to be rude. But I thought you were barren.”

“So did I. Apparently God didn’t agree.”

Dinah smiled. “Lord Boaz must be speechless with delight.”

“Speechless. Yes.” Ruth looked down. “So, did you bring your sling? You haven’t forgotten your promise to teach me how to use it?”

“Do you really want to learn?”

“More than ever. I’ll teach the baby when he is older.”

“What if she is a girl?”

“Then I hope she will have your aim. Let’s go out and try your sling. The sun is out; we can’t ask for a better day.”

The two women made their way to the back of the house, beyond the barn, where a small field sat empty of animals or people.

“This will do. You won’t accidentally throw a stone at some poor creature’s head and injure it.” Dinah pulled out a leather sling and showed Ruth how to hold it.

Ruth discovered that even holding the weapon correctly was more challenging than it seemed. A leather pouch in the center had to be balanced by the two long strings at either end. Fingers and thumbs had to hold the contraption with enough balance and flexibility to allow the sling its swinging motion without releasing the projectile too early.

From inside her belt Dinah pulled out a rounded stone the size of a pigeon egg. “You want to start collecting smooth stones about this size for your sling. You can have one of lord Boaz’s men file down some of the rough edges. The best stones are found in a river.”

She placed the stone in the pouch, wrapped the ends of the long strings about the fingers of one hand and swung once. Pointing to a broken branch lying on the ground twenty paces away, she released the stone. It hit the branch dead-on, making it fly into the air.

Ruth clapped. “You are incredible. As good as the young men in my caravan on the way to Bethlehem.”

Dinah walked over to collect her stone. “I have many hidden talents.”

“Adin must be blind to have taken so long to marry you.”

Dinah smiled. “I’m not sure a man wants a woman with good aim. It might not always prove to his advantage. Now you try.”

It took Ruth a number of attempts to make the sling swing properly without dropping its stone. She was afraid that if she released the stone at the wrong time, she might hit herself on the head.

“Now!” Dinah instructed, and Ruth let go. She had no aim to speak of yet, but she did manage to throw the stone without harming anyone.

“Good. Again.”

As Ruth began to swing the sling over and over, Dinah laughed. “It won’t make it go more accurately if you keep swinging. You’re just making your arm tired. One round or two will suffice. Let the stone go. Or have you grown attached to it?”

“I’m just getting my rhythm.”

“You’re making me dizzy. Release.”

Ruth fumbled and the stone thumped too close, bouncing twice before coming to a stop.

“What are you two up to?”

Ruth and Dinah turned in unison to find Boaz, his hands against his hips, observing them quizzically. Dinah bent to pick up the stone and tucked it into her belt with a quick motion. “I was on my way home to my family. Shalom, my lord. May you have a blessed day.”

“Dinah.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“I asked you a question.”

Dinah scratched her head through her veil. “Did you, my lord? I thought you were addressing your wife.”

Ruth laughed and hooked her arm around Boaz’s elbow. “Dinah is teaching me how to use a sling.”

“That’s what it looked like to me. But I thought it must be a dream. Why is my wife learning how to throw a sling?”

“To defend you in case of danger, of course. There are many evil men about these days. Someone needs to look after you.”