This is part 1 of our ongoing series through the book of Ruth at Harvey Baptist Church in Stephenville, Texas. Preached April 12, 2026.
Big Idea: Even in our darkest seasons, God is sovereignly at work, calling us to cling to Him.
I Never Saw It Coming
I wonder if you’ve ever said those words. Usually we say them in some of the hardest moments of life.
Last year, my father found out he had prostate cancer in the spring. Then, that summer, he suddenly started losing his memory and mobility and couldn’t speak — and we discovered his brain was swelling. We later found out he had contracted West Nile virus. After a month in the hospital and rehab, he was able to come home — a miracle patient.
But the phrase I heard over and over in that season was: I never saw this coming.
Maybe you’ve been there. A diagnosis that blindsides you. A marriage that ends when you never thought it would. A child who walks away from the faith. A business or a career that falls apart. And you find yourself in a season you cannot explain or escape.
That is exactly where the book of Ruth begins.
And if you came hoping for a feel-good message — you may be disappointed at first. Because before this book becomes beautiful, it first takes us to the bottom. Sinclair Ferguson once called Ruth “much in little” — there is far more about the character and sovereignty of God in this small book than its size suggests. And Chapter 1 takes us to the very depths before it shows us the dawn.
I. Tragedy Strikes a Family from Bethlehem (Ruth 1:1–5)
The book opens with a family of four — a man named Elimelech, his wife Naomi, and their two sons — living in Bethlehem. The name Bethlehem literally means “the house of bread.” It was a town known for abundance. But Ruth 1:1 tells us that the house of bread had no bread. A famine had come.
This is set in the days of the judges, when — as Judges 21:25 tells us — “everyone did what was right in their own eyes.” These were dark days in Israel. And in Deuteronomy 27–28, God had made a covenant with His people: faithfulness would bring blessing; unfaithfulness would bring judgment — including famine. So when we see famine in the opening verse, we understand it was God calling His people back to Himself.
Sometimes God uses the failure of the ordinary to drive us toward the extraordinary.
Elimelech’s name means “my God is king” and Naomi’s means “pleasant” or “lovely.” They were Ephrathites — a founding family of Bethlehem. They had roots there, legacy there. But they were forced to pack up everything and cross the border into Moab as refugees, fleeing to a neighboring country that had historically been their enemy — just to find food.
What follows is a rapid succession of grief. Elimelech dies in Moab. His two sons marry Moabite women — Orpah and Ruth — and ten years pass with no children born. Then both sons die as well. In five short verses, Naomi goes from wife and mother to a foreign widow with no husband, no sons, and no grandchildren. The line of Elimelech appears to be finished.
Notice what the author does with Naomi’s identity. In verse 2, she is introduced by name — Naomi, lovely. By verse 5, she is simply called “the woman.” She hasn’t just lost her family. She has lost her identity.
But here is what we must remember: Yahweh is well known for turning tragedy into triumph. We see it in Joseph. We see it in the Exodus. And so the question the author wants us to carry is this — how might God be turning this tragedy into triumph for His glory?
II. A Glimpse of Hope and a Pledge of Loyalty (Ruth 1:6–18)
Three simple words in verse 6 change the entire direction of the story: Then she arose. Naomi had heard that the Lord had visited His people in Bethlehem and given them food. For the first time in six verses, the name of the Lord appears — and He has visited His people.
Naomi was like the prodigal son, sitting hungry in a far country, hearing about the abundance in his father’s house, and knowing there was only one thing left to do: go home.
Both daughters-in-law began the journey with her. But Naomi urged them to turn back — to go home to their own mothers, to have a chance at remarriage and a future. Orpah, with tears, kissed her mother-in-law goodbye and returned to Moab. Naomi had no sons to offer them through levirate marriage. She was too old to remarry. She told them plainly: “The hand of the Lord has gone out against me.”
John Piper put it well: “When we have decided that God is against us, we usually exaggerate our hopelessness. We become so bitter we can’t see the rays of light peeping out around the clouds.” And yet, Naomi’s theology — though painful — was more robust than the sentimental faith that fills many churches. She never blamed fate or chance. She looked directly at the Almighty and said: You did this. She was unshaken in three convictions: God exists. God is sovereign. And God has afflicted her.
But Ruth — Ruth clung to Naomi. That word in Hebrew is the same word used in Genesis 2:24 to describe the covenant bond of marriage. This was not a temporary attachment. Ruth was making a permanent, covenant commitment to this bitter, broken woman.
And then Ruth speaks the words that form the turning point of the entire book:
“Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried.” (Ruth 1:16–17)
This is not simply beautiful language about loyalty to a mother-in-law. This is covenant language. When God made His covenant with His people, He said, “I will be your God, and you shall be my people” (Leviticus 26:12). What Ruth is saying is: The God who made His covenant with Abraham, who brought His people out of Egypt, who has promised grace and salvation — Naomi, this is my God now.
This is Ruth professing a personal conversion. Your God was not my God. But now — Yahweh — He is my God.
As Sinclair Ferguson calls it, this is “a narrative of a surprising conversion.” Ruth has committed to widowhood, to a foreign land, to an uncertain future — and she has declared her faith in Yahweh. And the great irony of this chapter is that although Naomi is returning to Israel, at this moment Ruth has more faith in the God of Israel than Naomi herself does.
H.B. Charles once said: “Sometimes we look up for God when we should look around for God.” God does not always come down from the skies to wipe the tears from our eyes. Oftentimes, He sends us people. Today, He has given us the church.
III. A Return to Bethlehem (Ruth 1:19–22)
The two widows arrive in Bethlehem, and the whole town is stirred. “Is this Naomi?” they asked. And Naomi’s answer cuts to the heart: “Do not call me Naomi. Call me Mara — bitter. I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty.”
The irony is painful. She left Bethlehem — the house of bread — with a full heart but an empty stomach. She returns with food available again, but with an empty heart. And yet — she has not returned alone. Ruth is standing right beside her, clinging to her for life.
There is an important lesson here: Let us not be so consumed with what we have lost that we cannot see what God has placed right next to us.
And the chapter closes with a whisper of hope: the barley harvest is beginning. Two women — one bitter, one faithful — arrive in Bethlehem at precisely the moment when God’s blessing is about to be poured out. The story is not over yet.
Like my grandmother used to say: hold onto your fork. The best is yet to come.
Five Ways to Respond in Seasons of Suffering
So how do we apply Ruth 1 to our lives? Here are five takeaways I want to leave you with.
1. Expect suffering — and know it is not the whole story. You are either in a season of suffering, coming out of one, or heading into one. We live in a fallen world. The chapter you are living in right now is not the final chapter.
2. Do not suffer alone. Naomi’s first instinct was to send everyone away — to suffer in isolation. But the grace of God in this passage is that Ruth refused to leave. The church is meant to be a community of burden-bearers. Galatians 6:2 says to “bear one another’s burdens.” If you are in pain right now, don’t go home and suffer in silence. Let someone in.
3. When bitterness blinds you, pray for eyes to see. Pray: Lord, I am bitter. I know it. Would you show me who or what you have placed right beside me that I cannot currently see? Show me the Ruth standing next to me. Show me the barley harvest beginning outside my window. Don’t let me be blinded from Your goodness.
4. See your suffering as held by a sovereign God. Even in the depths of her pain, Naomi never stopped believing that God was sovereign. We may not like God’s plans, but we can rest in the reality that He is working all things out for the good of those who are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28).
5. Cling to God. In every season — cling to God. Your clinging to God in your worst season will be used by Him in ways you cannot yet see or understand.
Believers, we’re either in a season of suffering, coming out of one, or heading into one. So let’s suffer well — by clinging to the cross.
