The Work of my Hands

I stood in the field. It was not the first one I had come to, but it took passing three before I finally had the courage to stop.

Everything was new. Every person. I was a stranger in this land. The stares I have gotten, the whispers that seem to follow me like my shadow. The isolation.

This isolation was my new normal.

My heart was set on Naomi. On God. I was certain this was the only path for me. Never before had I been to the Land of Mahlon or his family. But my husband and his parents had been good to me. His people however, this new land… I did not feel as if they had quite opened their arms to welcome me in.

I chose this path. Chose to set aside my own upbringing for the God of my husband and his family. I knew what I would face, and I do not regret it.

Yet it did not change the ache in my heart.

Before I had my family and then my husband. Orpah and I cared for each other when our husbands passed. But now I was alone. Naomi, Mara, had carried a deep sorrow in her heart. Her spirit was broken, and it weighed on her heavily. She would toss and turn during the night and often turn away food, what little we had.

I was there to support my mother-in-law. But who was there to look after me?

I spoke with Mara about finding work and she suggested that I go alongside the other women to glean the fields and mentioned a cousin who lived near here that would be safe for me to go to. He had much land and many workers under him. He would be courteous towards me.

The first field had many women there. They moved with ease and laughter. But as I drew closer conversation began to fade. All eyes fell to me and fear washed over me. So, I kept walking.

The next field I came to, had no women at all. The men there were numerous, and they eyed me just the same as the women did. They did not stare directly, but their posture shifted at my presence. My heart raced as I realized how alone I was on this road. I kept my eyes downcast and moved onward quickly. I convinces myself that I left out of propriety. After all, a woman does not leave herself alone with men. But as I moved away from them, I felt the tension in my shoulders ease. There was no peace in staying at that field.

The next field I came to was completely barren. Not a person in sight. The plants were untamed and wild. I took in the sight and shook my head. My success in this quest felt about as fruitful as this field.

All the doubts and worry I had been feeling, all the loneliness, washed over me and I allowed myself to feel pity. Just for a moment.

Then, I sighed deeply allowing all my emotions to escape with it and gathered my spirits once again.

I needed to overcome this fear. I was here to work. No more dodging my task. I set my shoulders back and marched on. The next field I came to, I would work. No matter what.

So here I was. Looking on at the field before me.

The men did not pause their duties to stare and there were a few women moving along behind them. Nothing too crowded. They did not even notice me watching on. They talked and laughed among themselves, respectively. I had promised myself this was where I would work, so I took a deep breath and stepped forward.

The chief servant who managed the fields approached me. Along with one of the women. I bowed my head in greeting. “Please sir, my name is Ruth. I come to glean in your master’s fields. I was sent on behalf of my mother-in-law, Naomi.”

The man’s eyes lit up in recognition at Naomi’s name. He deliberated it a moment with the woman who had walked over with him, and then nodded at me. The woman spoke to me only for a moment to make sure I understood what was allowed then she moved back toward the group. I followed her into the field and began my work.

For hours I picked wheat. The work was exhausting. Picking wheat off the stems was few and far between. I walked behind the other ladies. They were kind and left me some to glean. But all the pieces they left behind for me were those that had fallen on the ground. It was back breaking. I finished the day in deep pain. I wanted to cry. But I struggled through it and worked my way home.

I gave the wheat to Mara and she began sorting it out. Sorting it between what would go to the temple, what we would keep for ourselves and what she would sell in the market. There wasn’t much of any. But we were thankful for it just the same and Mara praised God for it. I fell asleep deeply that night and woke up sore.

I gathered myself and began the day anew. Stretching to try and work out the aches. Then I walked myself back to that field.

One of the women came up to me and walked with me while we were working. We talked and she asked about my story. I told her about my husband and family, of the joy I had to be a part of their lives. I spoke of the famine that had brought devastation to my land and that it didn’t just leave us hurting, but it took away everything from us. I told her of Orpah returning home to her family, and my choice to follow Naomi. I tried not to mourn in that moment, but I am not sure I succeeded in hiding my pain. I could see the sorrow she felt for me in her eyes. I asked more about her trying to develop a friendship, but it was as if she had learned everything about me and was not obligated to me any further.

All of the women who were there would take the time to do this. They would come up and talk with me. Not just about my story, but about many things. We would talk briefly and then they would return to their friends. They laughed and joked among each other. There was no lightheartedness with me, just formality. I was not among them, even while working alongside them.

The men led the way, the women followed, and I brought up the end.

Each day was hard. But I could feel myself becoming stronger.

My day still began with me sore and sorrowful from the day before. But each day I gathered my spirits and left my doubts and heartache to God. I would collect the fruit of my labor for hours and bring it home exhausted and lay it down before the Lord and Mara. Then I would go to bed.

I wouldn’t let myself think about the day I had ahead of me. I wouldn’t let myself long after what I had or hope in a future where this wasn’t my reality. Waking from those dreams would be too painful.

Instead, I would glean. The grains that were left on the ground for me would get stepped on, but I would be grateful for them. Just as I would be grateful for everything I did have in my life. Even when it seemed wasted or broken. I would search for wheat still on the stalks, just as I searched for God. Every now and then I would find the both of them out there in the fields under the heat of the sun and the tightness in my shoulders. I would rejoice for each one. And soon I found that my eyes became better at seeking out both. I did not hope for tomorrow. But I would find strength enough for the day.

I would only focus on God, and the work of my hands.