She Watches and Wonders: Ruth’s Story from Eternity
During the final days of writing the Ruth study, this little piece came pouring out. It’s different than the earlier study sections, but it felt like the right way to wrap it up—creative, yes, but hopefully meaningful too. It isn’t commentary or history. It’s imagination. A glimpse of what it might be like for Ruth herself to look back on her story now, from eternity.
Ruth is often read during the Jewish Festival of Weeks (Shavuot), which the New Testament calls Pentecost. That festival celebrated both the wheat harvest and the giving of God’s law. I love that Ruth’s story was chosen for that moment—because her redemption in the barley fields points so beautifully to the greater redemption in Christ. And later, at Pentecost in Acts 2, God’s Spirit was poured out and the gospel was spoken in every language. Outsiders welcomed in. The wide welcome of the gospel, echoing Ruth’s own story.
My hope is that these words serve as an entry point for you. Maybe as a reason to dive into Ruth with us. Or maybe simply as a reminder that you are not alone—that the woman who once gleaned in the fields is now part of the “cloud of witnesses,” cheering you on. And one day, if you are in Christ, you’ll meet her in heaven.
She Watches and Wonders
A narrative from Ruth’s perspective in eternity
I didn’t know my name would be remembered.
Not like this.
I didn’t know that barley fields and aching nights,
That whispered prayers in the dark,
Would be read aloud for generations.
That my story of famine and faith,
Of gleaning and grace,
Of foreigner to family
Would echo through time.
But every year, during Shavuot
The Feast of Firstfruits
They read my name.
They read our story.
And now, from where I sit, I watch.
Not in question, but in wonder.
From heaven, I see Him.
The One Boaz pointed to.
The Redeemer greater than my own.
His mother journeyed to Bethlehem too, pregnant with promise.
What a welcome He received—shepherds, angels, gifts.
And now He sits in an upper room with His friends.
Bread. Wine. The weight of what’s to come.
He kneels to wash their feet.
The God of the universe, postured low, showing them how to love.
Then, after the meal, they sing.
The Hallel.
I lean in.
“Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; His steadfast love endures forever.”
Yes. His hesed. I lived it.
“The Lord is my strength and my song; He has become my salvation.”
True, oh, how true.
“The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone…
This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”
Even this day, this heavy, holy day, He calls good.
“The Lord is God, and He has given us light.
Bind the festival sacrifice with cords to the horns of the altar.”
He is singing Himself to the cross.
This is His threshing floor.
Where He will cover His people
Not with fabric, but with blood.
He’s taken. Beaten. Crucified.
I weep. And I worship.
All of heaven roars in praise of His sacrifice
And louder still at His victory.
I remember death.
Mahlon. Chilion. Elimelech.
Naomi’s heartbreak.
The quiet finality of the grave.
But this Redeemer, He rises.
Death cannot hold Him.
I watch His friends rejoice at His return,
Then weep as He ascends.
But like Boaz, He doesn’t just speak of hope,
He acts.
He sends.
The Spirit.
Wind. Fire.
It descends.
And there, Peter.
Oh, Peter. Bold, faltering Peter.
So much like Naomi, so much like me.
Standing in the light now, proclaiming that the promise is for everyone.
Even women like me.
Even foreigners.
And they hear it in their own language.
More strangers welcomed.
More redemption poured out.
The story keeps going.
Their story.
Your story.
So come close, friend.
I want to lean in and take your hand.
To tell you myself:
You are welcomed.
You are wanted.
You belong at His table.
You’ve been redeemed.
Bring Him your pain, your loss, your questions.
He is the God who holds the whole story and the intimate details of your days.
So run, daughter. Reap with songs of joy. Take your place in the story.
Because the Redeemer lives. And the harvest? It’s far from over.
Let these words cover you, from my side of eternity to yours:
“Blessed be the Lord, who has not left you this day without a redeemer.” —Ruth 4:14
