Sunday Reflections…

What We Find When We Slow Down

September 2026

I love genealogy.

My daughter and I once submitted our DNA to a genealogy site, and I found myself fascinated by the names, the connections, and the stories hidden behind people I had never met.

But if I'm being completely truthful, when it comes to genealogy in the Bible, I haven't always shown quite the same enthusiasm.

You know those long lists of names? So-and-so was the father of so-and-so, who was the father of so-and-so... I've skipped over them too. But I'm beginning to realize how much we can miss when we do.

The Bible repeatedly encourages us not simply to read God's Word, but to study it, meditate on it, and allow it to become part of us.

2 Timothy 2:15 tells us to be diligent in handling the Word of truth correctly.

In Acts 17:11, the Bereans were commended because they eagerly received the message and then examined the Scriptures every day to see whether what they had been taught was true.

Joshua 1:8 tells us to meditate on God's Word day and night.

And Psalm 119:11 says: "I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you."

There is a difference between simply reading Scripture and lingering long enough to notice what is there.

I was reminded of that this week while studying the book of Ruth.

The Names at the End of Ruth

Ruth ends with a genealogy.

It would be very easy to finish the beautiful story of Ruth and Boaz, reach that final list of names, and think, Okay, we're done. But look closer.

Ruth 4 traces the family line:

Perez.

Hezron.

Ram.

Amminadab.

Nahshon.

Salmon.

Boaz.

Obed.

Jesse.

David.

Suddenly, this isn't just a list. It's a story. And when we compare that genealogy with other parts of Scripture, it becomes even more interesting.

Matthew 1:5 tells us that Salmon was the father of Boaz by Rahab.

Rahab.

The same Rahab we meet in the book of Joshua. The woman living in Jericho who hid the Israelite spies and helped them escape.The woman whose family was spared when the walls of Jericho came down. She became part of Israel. She married Salmon. And she became the mother of Boaz.

I knew those facts. I've studied the Bible for most of my life. My mother drilled into us from an early age that we needed to have our own devotional time—to read God's Word for ourselves and allow God to reveal Himself to us through it.

I've read Ruth many times. I've read Joshua many times. I knew who Rahab was. I knew who Boaz was. But sometimes we can know individual pieces of Scripture without stopping to imagine how those pieces actually fit together.

This week I was listening to a sermon by Pastor Tim Dilena of Times Square Church, and he brought out something that stopped me. He essentially asked us to imagine what conversation might have sounded like around that family's dinner table.

Imagine little Boaz sitting with his family. Imagine hearing: "Grandma Rahab, tell us again about Jericho." "What happened when the walls came down?" "Were you afraid?" "What was it like when you hid the spies?"

That thought stayed with me.

Because sometimes I think we unintentionally turn people in the Bible into characters in a story. They weren't characters. They were people. They ate together. They talked. They told family stories. Children heard about what God had done for their parents and grandparents.

Boaz didn't simply appear in the book of Ruth as a righteous and honorable man. He came from a family with a story. And part of that story was a woman named Rahab whose life had been completely changed by faith in the God of Israel.

Then There Was Ruth…

That makes what happens in Ruth even more beautiful to me.

After Naomi lost her husband and both of her sons, she encouraged her daughters-in-law, Ruth and Orpah, to return to their own families.

Orpah eventually did.

Ruth stayed.

Her words to Naomi have become some of the most recognized words in Scripture:

"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

Ruth couldn't possibly have known everything that would follow that decision.

She didn't know there would be a Boaz.

She didn't know there would be an Obed.

She didn't know there would be a Jesse.

She certainly didn't know there would someday be a King David.

And generations later, she couldn't have known that her name would appear in the genealogy of Jesus Christ.

She simply chose her next step.

And God knew where that step would lead.

Ruth and Orpah: Two Different Roads

There is another fascinating tradition connected to this story.

Later Jewish rabbinic writings connect Orpah's descendants with Goliath, the Philistine warrior David would eventually face.

That detail is not stated in the biblical text, so I think it's important to make that distinction. It comes from later Jewish commentary and tradition.

But the contrast those ancient teachers saw is striking.

Ruth clung to Naomi and embraced Naomi's God.

Orpah returned to her people and her previous life.

Generations later, according to that tradition, the family lines meet again:

David, descended from Ruth.

Goliath, descended from Orpah.

Two women.

Two roads.

Two very different family stories.

I wouldn't describe one woman's single decision as automatically producing salvation and the other's as automatically producing destruction. I think the lesson is a little more nuanced than that.

What strikes me is how a direction can become a trajectory.

One decision becomes another.

One step leads to another step.

And often we have no idea where God may be leading when He asks us simply to trust Him with the next one.

What About My Own Road?

That caused me to look back over my own life.

There are so many places where my story could have gone differently.

Decisions I could have made.

Relationships I could have pursued.

Things I could have walked toward—or walked away from.

Times when I didn't have any idea what God was doing.

And even now, I can only see a fraction of the things He may have protected me from or redirected me around.

That's where grace becomes so precious to me.

Grace is unmerited favor.

It isn't something I earned because I always chose correctly.

Believe me, I haven't.

It isn't a reward for having everything figured out.

I don't.

Grace is freely given.

When I look backward, I can see places where God was directing my steps when I couldn't see the destination.

And when I look forward, that gives me confidence to trust Him with the next one.

Not the next twenty.

Not the next ten years.

Just the next step.

Ultimately, that grace leads me back to the cross of Jesus Christ.

I am thankful that my relationship with God isn't built on my ability to make every perfect decision.

It is built on what Christ has already done.

"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God."
— Ephesians 2:8

Encouragement for Today

Maybe you're standing at a place where you don't know what comes next.

You wish God would show you the entire plan.

I've felt that way many times.

But Ruth didn't see David when she chose to stay with Naomi.

Rahab didn't see Boaz when she chose to trust the God of Israel.

They could only respond to what was directly in front of them.

Sometimes faith looks exactly like that.

You may not know where today's obedience will lead.

You may not understand why God is closing one door or asking you to walk through another.

You may not see the generations that will be affected by something God is doing in your life right now.

But God sees what you cannot.

So perhaps the question for today isn't:

"God, show me the whole plan."

Maybe it's simply:

"God, what is my next faithful step?"

Then trust Him enough to take it.

And while you're reading your Bible this week, don't skip over the names too quickly.

There may be a story hidden in that genealogy.

There may be a connection you've never noticed.

There may even be something you've read a hundred times that God is ready to show you in a completely new way.

A Prayer

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for Your Word.

Thank You that no detail is wasted and that even the passages we are tempted to rush through can reveal something about who You are and how You work.

Help me to be a student of Your Word—not simply someone who reads it, but someone who searches it, meditates on it, and allows it to change me.

Thank You for the grace You have shown me throughout my life.

Thank You for the doors You closed, the paths You redirected, and even the times You protected me when I didn't realize I needed protecting.

When I cannot see the whole road ahead, help me trust You with my next step.

Give me wisdom to recognize Your direction and courage to follow where You lead.

Most of all, thank You for Jesus.

Thank You for the cross.

Thank You that Your grace is not something I could ever earn but a gift You freely give.

May Your Word dwell richly in me, and may my life reflect the grace You have shown me.

In Jesus' name,

Amen.