A Wasted Life (Intro and Chapter 1)

 

Introduction

This story began two and a half decades ago when I was in college. It appeared on the page late one night at my writing partner’s house. We munched on popcorn as we typed away. She wrote poetry, and I wrote stories! We both loved this story, but somehow it never got finished. I felt like I didn’t have enough life experiences to write it.

My friend seemed so much older: married with children! She must have been in her thirties! Haha! Those were the days.

Now, here I sit, after midnight, in another time and space. I don’t know why I decided to try this story at this time. The floppy disk I saved it on might still be around here somewhere, but it would be an antique for my laptop. I don’t need it anyway, the story lives inside of me. It has been here all this time, and it has changed, as I have. Hopefully, for the better. Though part of me wonders if it will be as interesting as my naïve, young adult self, wrote it a long time ago.

One thing I changed, just this week, is the main character. I think that has been my problem all along. I had the wrong person as the main character.

 

 

Chapter One

He Never Did Listen to Me

 

“You could have been a doctor! You could have saved people’s lives! You could have saved YOUR life!” I said to the form on the hospital bed.

I stood in the doorway, too afraid of my own emotions to get any closer. There he was, just as I had expected to find him. Broken and frail, yet still smiling – no LAUGHING at me. That silly grin and twinkle in his eyes. I could see it all from here. How could I love and hate someone all at once? My youngest brother.

I had been twelve when he was born, almost a teenager. He was MY baby. No, not like THAT. I mean, I was his favorite! I could get him to burp when no one else could. Later, it was my bed he crawled into. I even taught him to read. We were playing in the tree fort. I wrote him a little story using his name and a few short, easy words.

“God loves Jonah.

Jonah loves God.”

I had him practice until he had it … well, memorized probably. Mom was so pleased she said I could do his reading with him from then on. We read in the fort, in the hammock, in the boat, and snuggled on the couch.

That was when I was seventeen, and Jonah was five. That was before I became an adult. -before I turned selfish.

I don’t think he ever accepted the fact that I was an adult. Which is strange because I highly doubt he remembers when I wasn’t an adult.

Poor kid had abandonment issues because his SISTER moved away and left him behind. With his own, biological parents!

Grandpa and Grandma tried hard to be supportive of my parents’ choice to have five kids AND homeschool, but I think they worried we wouldn’t get a real education. They started a fund when each of us were born to use for college. I used mine to go through nursing school. All our siblings went to college and got good jobs.

And then there was Jonah. Our local college has a program where high schoolers can take college classes: but Jonah just wasn’t feeling it. When he was eighteen, he still wasn’t ready for college. An uncle invited him to help him build tiny houses.

 He was so excited the day he left. His Toyota pickup piled up with all his belongings. I was pregnant and had a toddler on my hip. He had laughed at me that day too. That teasing little brother laugh.

“Be careful!” I told him. “Make sure you use safety gear! Don’t cut any fingers off!”

“Why not?” he laughed “You don’t work at the ER anymore anyway. Don’t worry!”

“It’s okay for him to take a year off before college.” My Mom assured me. “Each person has a different path. We can’t really force anyone to be something they are not. The Bible says, ‘Raise up a child in the way he should go’ only God knows the path that is best for Jonah. I don’t want to be the one to stand in the way of God’s perfect plan for Jonah’s life.”

I knew she was right then, but now I wasn’t sure. Now that he lay in that hospital bed broken and hurting.

“You promised me you wouldn’t get hurt!” I pouted, as if a person can keep such a promise.

He mumbled something, but I couldn’t hear him, so I shuffled closer to the bed.

“That was when I left to build tiny houses, not as a tow truck driver!” he defended himself.

I scowled “You didn’t have to be a tow truck driver. You could have used the money for any career! I always thought you would have been an excellent doctor. If you had received ANY medical training at all, you would have known not to ignore a warm, swollen leg. You could have died from that blood clot!"

I was still angry.

"You chose this path!"

A hot tear rolled down my cheek.

“Yep” he said softly, “I chose this path, and, if I had the opportunity to choose again, I would still choose THIS.”

I stood in the quiet. My mind numb. Wishing I could wake up and all of this would be a dream. Wishing I could turn back time and… and what? What would I change? Did I really think that I would have done a better job of managing Jonah’s life than he had? Was I really that controlling?

Suddenly, I knew nothing.

A nurse came in and I wandered out the door and down the hall. It was so strange being the one leaving the patient’s room. -the one asking the questions instead of giving the answers.

Question like: Who was your visitor? 

Just his controlling big sister.

 Or was she just being helpful?

Who was he? -this man, laying on the bed, telling her he was perfectly capable of making his own life choices and willing to accept the consequences of those actions.

She laughed at herself. Of course he was right.

But did he have any idea how the consequences of his actions would snowball, affecting people he loved and even some he had never met?

 

 

 

Better Than Seven Sons

 In today's world having SEVEN sons might not seem like a blessing, but in Naomi's world having sons was every woman's dream.

This time of year, my mind often wanders to the book of Ruth. Maybe it is because the grass is often tall and reminds me of the barley fields where Ruth gleaned. But this year it's not young, brave, kind Ruth I'm thinking of, but Naomi.

I know why. 

It's because I started a new chapter of my life this year. I'm a grandma. 

As I held this precious little boy, I suddenly felt empathy for dear Naomi. I wondered what it meant that Naomi became Obed's nurse. 🤔 Maybe Ruth was busy running the household and Naomi had more time to sit and hold the baby and take him for walks and stop and look at interesting rocks and plants. 

Her friends and neighbors were so happy to see dear Naomi carrying a precious little one around town again.

You see... a couple decades before this, a much younger Naomi was often seen chasing around not one, but two happy little boys, in this same small town. It seems everyone knew her. Naomi: the pleasant one.

I picture her as friendly and optimistic. - a smile on her face as she chatted with the other women in the marketplace and at the well.

When the drought came the love of her life, Elimelech, decided to move her and the boys to Moab. I wonder if she was excited to go, or sad to leave her friends. Maybe she tried to make it a fun adventure for her boys.

 I know she kept their culture's traditions alive in her home, because her daughter-in-law, Ruth knew the God of Naomi.

I know she was kind and loving because Orpah and Ruth WANTED to go with her. I presume she was like a mother to them. They preferred to live in widowhood with her than to go home. Orpah was finally convinced to return home, to her parents, but Ruth refused.

You know how in some cultures people change their names throughout their lives? I can see why. The name, Naomi, just didn't fit her anymore. Naomi means "pleasant" or "delight". Her life was far from either!

Naomi's life started out good, it seems. She married and had two sons. Life was pleasant.

Then the famine hit.

But that was okay. They could move to a better area.

Her husband died. It broke her heart, but at least her sons were grown so she had someone to care for her.

Her sons married Moabite girls. They were so sweet. It was fun to teach them the ways of her people. 

Her sons died. Both of them! Without having any children.

Suddenly Naomi fell into a deep depression. This was more than she could bear.  Some people sleep when they are depressed and some start walking. 

walking and walking... somewhere... anywhere but here where all the pain is, the bad memories...

Naomi had heard that the drought was over back home. She would go home. -go home and die. Alone and empty. The drought was over at home, but it was at its worse for Naomi! The emptiness inside her was worse than cracked ground thirsty for rain. She began to pack her bags.

The girls packed too. Of course they were going. They lived with Naomi. They had lost their husbands too. All they had was each other.

Naomi looked at those two sweet girls. She remembered when she was young, before Elimelech died. How naive she had been as she packed the bags to come to Moab. She couldn't let them make the same mistakes she had.

"Stay here." she said sadly. "Go home to your families. May God bless you with new husbands who are kind to you as you have been kind to my sons and me."

"Noooo!" BOTH girls cried. "We want to go with you to YOUR people!"

I wonder if Naomi thought about her people: the Jews. People chosen by God. Yet, people who had suffered so much, even in those early days.

 No, those sweet girls should stay where they belong. She couldn't bear the thought of them suffering like she had.

You know the story. Orpah was convinced and, through tears, hugged Naomi and went home to her own family. 

But Ruth wouldn't let go. She wouldn't leave. 

Sometimes we know too much, those of us who count our age in decades. We have seen and experienced things that sober us. This path called life isn't a fun adventure. It might not be a pleasant thing that waits for us around the bend.

Let her learn her own way, Naomi. Let Ruth walk the path you did. Maybe it will be better for her. And, even if it isn't, maybe, as she has watched you handle life's trials, maybe she will be stronger. Don't tell her it won't be a good experience. Do you really think having her go home, to her family, will be any better? She needs you. In your brokenness, in your pain. Yes, even if you change your name to Mara. She needs you!

I always saw how much Naomi needed Ruth and how brave Ruth was, but suddenly I see a young bride turned widow, heartbroken, clinging to someone who has shown her a better way to do life.

How is this way better, Ruth? Can't you see the sorrow it brings?

No, Naomi. Ruth sees something more in you and she longs for the place YOU call HOME! She longs to join the people who know how to mourn, but also know how to rejoice! She is willing to give up all she has ever known to have HOPE!

What hope does Naomi have? Maybe she doesn't seem like she has hope, as she walks down that long, dusty road. As she arrives at her town and bitterly tells her friends she isn't the "Naomi" who left here a decade ago. She isn't pleasant and cheerful. She doesn't want to chat about all the silly little things she used to talk about. 

What is wrong with being quiet sometimes, Naomi? What is wrong with going home empty? 

Her friends came around her. Dear relatives took her and Ruth in. Gently. Allowing her to provide for her own needs as much as she could, but quietly leaving bundles of grain in Ruth's path. 

As Naomi ate the bread, made from the barley grown in her hometown, maybe she realized that she did have something to offer Ruth. 

What Ruth had seen a glimpse of in Naomi, back in the country of Moab, was a way of life here in Bethlehem, Judea. 

As Naomi watched Ruth thriving, she softened. -not like she had been as a girl, but like a sweet grandma whose smile draws small children to her lap. It wasn't long before her lap was full. -a dear little boy, named Obed. 

Her friends were so happy. Their Naomi was back! Laughing and talking, a baby in her arms. This is our Naomi! This is our friend! 

Somehow, I don't think Naomi was watching the reactions of her friends though. I kinda think she was watching Ruth. The joy she had as she embraced Naomi's culture and religion witnessed to Naomi as well. It healed her. 

"She is better to you than seven sons!" her friends declared.

Yes. She was.

I imagine Ruth looking at Naomi and thinking the same thing. Where would she be if it wasn't for Naomi? 

Joseph: Our Brother

 

(Genesis 45)

We never guessed that he might be our brother!

He had the appearance of an Egyptian. The authority of a KING! We bowed before him. (Only Pharoah was greater.)

We were aliens from a foreign land, here in this land of plenty. So far away from home. He tested us until he was satisfied. He was a powerful man, not at all like our annoying little brother.

Yet here he was speaking OUR language. Telling us that ALL of this had been part of God's plan. Yes, we had been angry at him. We wanted him gone. -out of the picture...so very long ago. No, it wasn't really us sending him away. God sent him away so he could save us. And not just us. People from all over the known world. Hungry people in need of saving. Our little brother, our savior? Who would have thought...?

"Come!" he invited. "To the place prepared for you."

He hugged us and cried... we all cried.

It was really HIM!

Why had it taken us so long to see?

The Egyptians thought they knew who he was. But they were wrong.

To be fair, we thought we knew who he was, and we were wrong too!

We were wrong when we thought he was an arrogant little kid. 

We were also wrong when we thought he was an Egyptian.

The day we realized who he was... the day he spoke to us in our mother tongue and asked us how our father was... THAT DAY was the day everyone else also learned his true identity.

"Joseph's family has come!" they whispered. 

News traveled quickly until everyone knew.

And they were glad, so very glad, for OUR LITTLE BROTHER

- and FINALLY... so were we. 

Blessed is HE who comes in the name of the LORD!