God’s faithfulness isn’t based on my current set of circumstances. At least, I know this intellectually. His inherent goodness doesn’t ebb and flow along the shoreline of how well my life is going, or not. But I sure do feel better about Him when spring is in the air, my relationships are thriving, and I have reservations at Margot’s (the coziest restaurant in town). When life is sure-footed and happy, I suppose it’s easier to get behind the idea that God is good. But what about when life goes the other way and the disappointments keep crashing as surely as waves hurl themselves onto the shore? When you’ve just scraped the sand out of your bathing suit and another crest douses you from behind and down you go again? What is God like then? Is He faithful and good in all circumstances? And if so, what are we to make of that seemingly dichotomous pairing: the pain of life and the faithfulness of God? The book of Ruth may not give us a simple answer, but it offers an undeniable narrative of our Redeemer.

When I was twenty-five, I moved from my home of northern Virginia to Nashville, Tennessee. My gunmetal-gray Jeep Cherokee puffed and fumed down I-81 South, stuffed with clothes, a few small pieces from my parents’ house (where I’d been living), my guitar, and dreams hanging out of every window. I’d slid my whole life’s worth of chips into the middle of the table, except nothing about that move felt like gambling. Rather, I was going all-in on my one dream: becoming a singer-songwriter. I had big plans to be wildly successful, all for the glory of God, of course. A few years later, my business manager neatly described things when she leaned toward me over a restaurant table, folded her hands, and said, “I’ve never seen anything not work this much.” And just like that, my music career and the better part of my twenties were captured in a sentence.

She wasn’t mistaken. I felt everything go dismally wrong to the specificity of a crossed t and dotted i. It was as if God Himself was thwarting my path. From the very beginning, people who signed me to record deals lost their jobs shortly thereafter, the companies I signed with got sold or went under, merchandise was shipped to the wrong warehouse before a major tour, and nearly every sure thing turned into “Well, we’ve never had anything like this happen before.” Every break seemed to be a bad one instead of a big one. Eventually I found myself years down the road with three failed record deals, living alone, squeezed financially, and not a thing to show for my efforts—except a spectacular plaque from a short-lived number-one hit on Christian radio. I was anxious. Purpose eluded me as much as the dreams I was seeking. All the while, I wondered why God seemingly tricked me into coming to Nashville. I thought I was following Him, albeit my priorities were a tad out of whack.

While I may not have used such piercing language, I identified with the words of Ruth’s mother-in-law, Naomi: “The LORD’s hand has turned against me!”(Ruth 1:13). Without in any way setting my non tragic disappointments next to Naomi’s loss of a husband and two sons or Ruth’s loss of a husband, I identified with Naomi’s conclusions about God’s relationship to her life. I hadn’t felt God’s wind at my back for quite some time; rather, He felt more like a blustering gust into which my path always seemed to be headed. I suppose I didn’t recognize at the time that even this was a sign of His presence. During those days (and since), the book of Ruth became a well-worn park bench where I could sit beside old friends who, despite the blowing uncertainty around them, found God to be nothing less than wholly faithful. But this took time, of course, for all of us. The book of Ruth is one of the most compelling redemption stories in Scripture, and perhaps of all time—at least in my humble opinion. Like most good stories, it begins with complications and even tragedy in desperate need of restoration. Famine plagued Bethlehem, most likely due to the Israelites’ collective waywardness toward God. So an Israelite family off our—Elimelek; his wife, Naomi; and their two sons, Mahlon and Kilion—left God’s chosen town for the distant pagan land of Moab. Rather than stay and suffer for a season with the people of God, the family chose to flee the place of His presence for fuller bread baskets. The problem was that to dwell in Moab was to dwell with a people whose hearts were far from Israel’s God.

Dearest Jesus, my Kinsman-Redeemer, thank You that I can take refuge under Your wings. I am here not because of my heritage, status, or righteousness but because Your sacrifice and love have made a place for me. Though I am grieving loss, or disappointed that my life hasn’t turned out like I thought it would, or disillusioned by Your hand seeming as though it is against me—I choose to trust You. I confess that You are good, faithful, and true in every conceivable way. I surrender all I hold dear to Your keeping. Though I may weep, I will weep forward by Your side. For You are my Redeemer, the one who restores and who works all things out for the good of those who love You. Hide me under the safety and shelter of Your wings, for in You I take refuge. Amen.

This excerpt featured is from her chapter in the Faithful book. Christian artist, author, and speaker. Books: ​The Fitting Room, No Other Gods, A Place at the Table, Wherever the River Runs​ and many more that include numerous popular Bible studies. She wrote the chapter on Ruth in the Faithful book, available now. She is also a songwriter/guest on the Faithful: Go And Speak album out now.