Starting Over
.Starting Over Woman of the Day: Ruth Key Verse: “But Ruth replied, ‘Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay… your people will be my people and your God my God.’” — Ruth 1:16 (NIV) Lesson
Title: Starting Over I never planned to start over. Who does? When I walked down the aisle nearly 30 years ago, I thought it was forever. I gave my heart, my dreams, my trust — fully. We built a life, raised kids, shared holidays and heartaches. But somewhere along the way, the foundation cracked. And when it finally collapsed, I wasn’t just grieving a marriage — I was grieving a story I thought would last forever. Starting over felt like failure. Like I had to find myself again — only now I was older, wounded, uncertain. Like Ruth, I stood at a crossroads I never asked for.
Historical + Biblical Context: Meet Ruth- Ruth’s story begins with loss. She was a Moabite woman — a foreigner — who had married into a Hebrew family that had moved to Moab during a famine. She married one of Naomi’s sons. Then tragedy: her father-in-law died. Then her brother-in-law. Then her own husband. In just a short time, Ruth’s world was reduced to grief, ashes, and the ache of what now? There were no social programs. No government assistance. No job boards. She was a widow in a patriarchal society, where a woman’s value was tied to a husband, a home, and a future secured by a man’s name. She had none of that anymore.
What Was Ruth Feeling? Can you imagine the silence that followed her husband’s death? The numbness of grief, the fear of poverty, the pressure to go home and start again — alone? We often read Ruth’s bold words to Naomi and skip over the heartbreak behind them. “Don’t urge me to leave you… where you go, I will go.” But what might she have been thinking? “I have nothing left — but I can give my presence.” “I don’t know your God fully — but I trust Him more than I trust staying here.” “I can’t go back. But I don’t know how to go forward either.” That’s the sacred ground of starting over — the space between endings and new beginnings. Starting over isn’t always brave. Sometimes it’s just desperate faith disguised as courage. 🤍 Personal Reflection: My Own Ruth Season When my 30-year marriage ended, I didn’t feel strong. I felt shattered. I questioned everything: my worth, my role, my identity, even my faith. Who was I if I wasn’t someone’s wife? Who was I now that the house was quiet and the plans were canceled? And yet — deep down, I still believed that God could redeem it. I didn’t feel like I was chasing something new. I was simply trying to hold on to hope in the rubble of what was lost. Like Ruth, I had to walk forward, step by uncertain step, trusting that God would somehow lead me to a field of grace.
Enter Boaz… and Mike Ruth ended up gleaning in a field — a foreigner picking up scraps, head down, unnoticed. And yet the text tells us: “As it turned out, she was working in a field belonging to Boaz…” — Ruth 2:3 In Hebrew, the phrase is “miqreh” (מִקְרֶה) — meaning “by chance,” though with a subtle undertone of divine arrangement. It's as if the narrator is smiling behind the words, whispering: This may have looked like chance… but God was already there. Boaz saw Ruth. Not just her face — but her faith. Not just her story — but her strength. And in a quiet, redemptive way, he honored what others had overlooked. Boaz was what the Hebrew calls a go’el — a kinsman-redeemer, someone who had the legal and moral responsibility to restore what had been lost in a family line. But more than law, Boaz brought compassion. He stepped in not because he had to, but because he wanted to. And while I didn’t meet my Boaz in a barley field, I did meet him — at a wine bar. Mike walked into my life in a season I didn’t expect, when I wasn’t looking for love — and I certainly wasn’t looking for laughter. But there he was. Steady. Kind. Open-hearted. Easy to talk to. We fell in love quickly — not because we were rushing, but because we recognized something sacred when we saw it. A year later, we married. Mike didn’t erase my past. He didn’t try to fix the broken chapters. Instead, he sat beside them with me. He made room for joy again. He made room for me again. He is the first man who ever taught me how to laugh — really laugh — from that deep, soul-satisfied place that had long gone quiet. That laughter? That ease? That love? That’s the field I never saw coming. And just like Ruth, I thank God I kept walking — because on the other side of grief was a kind of joy I had never known.
Foreshadowing of Redemption Ruth’s story doesn’t just point to romance — it points to Jesus. Boaz was a redeemer in a field. Jesus is a Redeemer on a cross. Boaz saw Ruth, chose her, and gave her a new name and legacy. Jesus sees us, chooses us, and gives us eternal belonging. And through Ruth — the Moabite outsider — came King David. And through David came Christ. God used a grieving, foreign widow to build the bloodline of redemption itself. If He can do that with Ruth, He can do something redemptive with you, too.
Today’s Reflection Questions: What parts of your life have ended, leaving you unsure of what’s next? Where might God be quietly leading you to begin again — even in small ways? Have you mistaken survival for failure, when it might actually be faith? What if your “start over” season is not punishment… but preparation?
Prayer: Lord, You see every ending — and every beginning I can’t yet see. I’m walking through a season that wasn’t part of my plan, but I believe it’s still part of Yours. Thank You for the story of Ruth — a woman who walked into the unknown and found unexpected redemption. Give me the courage to start over, the humility to trust You with what’s ahead, and the faith to believe that joy — even laughter — can still find me. Amen.
