One of the kicky things about sitting here in the middle of my forties is that sometimes I find myself bogged down in what I like to call the “kids, get off my lawn” syndrome. It’s not my consistent mind-set by any stretch of the imagination. Keep in mind that I work with teenagers for a living and love that age group more than is even rational; I really do try to be a fairly objective observer of what’s going on in their world even if I’m not always a participant.

Every once in a while, though, some cultural phenomenon with younger folks will strike me as so utterly ridiculous it makes me rant-y. And while I don’t literally stand in my front yard while wearing a housecoat and sporting some sponge rollers in my hair—while I don’t actually wave my arms around and yell at neighborhood kids to get off my property as I wield a stick or a cane or a full mug of coffee—my immediate emotional response to the annoying trend at hand falls somewhere along the lines of “TAKE YOUR SILLINESS SOMEWHERE ELSE, KIDS—I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS NONSENSE.”

So when a child star turned pop star performs on national television while dressed up like a mouse that can’t seem to keep its tongue in its mouth?

GET OFF MY LAWN.

When a new music video goes viral despite the fact that it’s loaded with way too many near-naked bodies and the song is full of mindless, sexist, misogynistic lyrics?

GET OFF MY LAWN.

(And also: THIS RECORDING ARTIST DOESN’T SEEM TO HAVE A VERY HIGH VIEW OF WOMEN.)

When the person in front of me in Starbucks holds up the line so that he and a buddy can Dubsmash a scene from The Wolf of Wall Street?

GET OFF MY LAWN—BUT NOT UNTIL I WASH YOUR MOUTH OUT WITH SOAP.

See? I am a sensitive, gentle soul.

I rarely vocalize these feelings because (1) the world already has plenty of self-righteousness, and (2) whether I like what’s going on in pop culture or not, the lay of the land is the lay of the land, and if I want to continue to develop relationships with the generation behind me, I have to be able to speak their language to a certain extent.

And as a quick sidebar: their language? Thanks in no small part to the Kardashians? Sometimes involves saying a lot of sentences as questions? And also saying the word “thanks” as “thennnnnnnnks”?

This is merely an observation, not a judgment.

LOOK AT ME NOT JUDGING YOU, MILLENNIAL FRIENDS.

I really am smiling so big right now.

From time to time my mother-in-law, Martha, will give me instructions about something she’d like for me to do. It usually goes a little something like this.

“Sophie? If you don’t mind, sugar? Would you take this jacket back to the Stein Mart by your house? It’s not that I don’t love it—I do! I love it! I really do!—but the neck and shoulders are just cut way too big and fall down to HERE when I try to wear one of my mock turtlenecks underneath. But now that reminds me! If you see any mock turtlenecks when you go to return the jacket? Well, I would just love a royal blue one or a Kelly green one or a hot pink one. I have a red one and a navy one and a black one, but don’t you think one of those brighter colors would be so pretty? Just for some POP underneath a jacket or a coat? I think they’d be so pretty! Really pretty! So that’s all I need, sugar. Just to return the jacket. And maybe a few mock turtlenecks. And be sure to tell them that I love everything I get from there! It’s my favorite store! It really is!”

So maybe that’s why, at the beginning of Ruth 3, I totally relate to the fact that Naomi is giving Ruth a few instructions. Granted, Naomi wasn’t terribly concerned with 3/4-sleeve jackets or mock turtlenecks, but she definitely had a to-do list in mind for her daughter-in-law.

And she had her reasons.

Naomi knew that Boaz was a kinsman-redeemer for Elimelech’s family, meaning that by law he could lift any shame or condemnation attached to a close family member who found themselves in difficult circumstances. Redemption typically happened one of three ways: (1) redeeming a family member being held in slavery, (2) redeeming land by purchasing it when a family member was going through a tough time financially, and/or (3) redeeming the family name by marrying a widowed relative.26

And since Naomi wanted the very best for Ruth—according to Ruth 3:1, she wanted to “seek rest for [her], that it may be well with [her]”—pointing Ruth in Boaz’s direction meant that Naomi was pointing her daughter-in-law toward a better future. She was pointing her toward redemption.

Now.

Ruth was from Moab, which meant she wasn’t necessarily familiar with Israel’s redemption process, so Naomi gave her step-by-step instructions. And because lists make me happy, I will now share said instructions in a convenient numbered format. Please note that biblical content is bolded, lest you confuse my stream-of-consciousness rambling with the Word of God.

AS IF.

Okay. Here’s Naomi’s to-do list for Ruth.

1. Wash up. Such an important tip. Wise counsel from Naomi.
2. Anoint yourself. I think the gist of this one was “Put on some oil and get that skin looking right, Ruth.”
3. Put on your cloak. Makes sense. My mama has always said that if you look your best, you’ll feel your best.
4. Go down to the threshing floor where Boaz is. 10-4. Sort of like meeting him at work.
5. Don’t interrupt his mealtime. #wisdom
6. Stay hidden until he goes to sleep and make note of where he lies down. Maybe a little strange, but, um, fair enough.
7. After he lies down, uncover his feet and lie down, too. Not gonna lie, Naomi. This is straight-up weird to me.
8. Wait for him to tell you what to do next. Sounds good. Maybe that will alleviate some of the inevitable awkward.

So yeah. The instructions were super-specific, and it can be tricky for us to understand the whys and wherefores. Israeli customs seem odd when there are a few thousand years between then and now, so we have to remember that Naomi knew the redemptive drill.

And fortunately, people way smarter than I can give this whole exchange some context:

Naomi’s care for her daughter’s comfort is without doubt very commendable. . . . It is the duty of parents to seek [the rest of marriage] for their children, and to do all that is fit for them to do, in due time, in order to it. . . . [Naomi did this] in justice to the dead, to raise up seed to those that were gone, and . . . to preserve the family from being extinct.27

Here’s something else to remember. Naomi had a voice in Ruth’s life, which meant she had the freedom to counsel her and guide her. Naomi knew Ruth better than anyone else; at the point when Naomi told Ruth to visit Boaz, the two women had lived side-by-side for, what? Eleven years? Naomi knew Ruth’s history, she knew who she was behind closed doors, and she knew, based on the way her daughter-in-law had cared for her, that Ruth was worthy of a man as fine and respected as Boaz.

We all need someone who knows us that well.

That level of familiarity breeds trust. And in Ruth 3:4, we see Ruth’s reaction to Naomi’s instructions: “All that you say I will do.”

There was no second-guessing, no arguing, no defiance. Just one big “Yes, ma’am. You got it.”

Ruth trusted her mother-in-law’s wisdom, she trusted her plan for redemption, and ultimately, she trusted her with her future.

From that perspective, there was nothing to debate. So off Ruth went—down to Boaz’s threshing floor.

About eight or nine years ago, I read an article about how an increasing number of teenagers were participating in something called “sexting.” At the time I didn’t even know what “sexting” was (hence the “air quotes”), but my initial reaction was Oh my word—that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.

GET OFF MY LAWN.

It just seemed so, I don’t know, silly to me. After all, when I was growing up, if one of my friends or I had wanted to send an inappropriate picture to someone, we’d first have to go to the drug store and buy a roll of film. Then, once we got to wherever we were planning to take the (hypothetical) pictures, we’d have to use the whole roll of film. (Here’s a photography lesson for the kids: if you opened the back of a camera before you finished using all 24 or 36 exposures, the entire roll was ruined.) After we finished using the whole roll of film, we’d have to take it somewhere to get it developed—probably a drug store—and then wait about a week for the prints to come back from the lab. At that point getting the pictures still wouldn’t be guaranteed, because the photo clerks would have called our mamas in a heartbeat if they saw pictures where we, for whatever reason, had neglected to wear our clothes.

Yes, OF COURSE, the pictures would have been a bad idea to begin with. But ultimately we would have had a week of buffer between the idea and the execution of it, with all manner of speed bumps and guardrails set up along the way.

These days, though, it’s different. We live in an insta-society where we can snap a picture and send it to hundreds of people in a matter of seconds. That’s all fine and good and convenient when you’re at Disney World and want to send a quick update to the grandparents. It’s not so good, though, when you’re a fifteen-year-old girl holding your phone in front of the bathroom mirror and contemplating taking off your top for the cute guy in geometry who asked you to send him some nudes.

It’s been about eight-ish years since I read the sexting article, and I now know that it’s a very real problem. In fact, I’m a little surprised by how often I think about it. That’s not because it’s something I do—oh my word, no. I’m in my forties. I’ve never sexted in my life, and even if I decided that sexting my husband was a good idea, the raciest thing I’d be able to come up with is, “Hey. Will you pick up some Chick-fil-A salads on your way home from work?”

It’s funny because it’s true.

But I think I can get a little fixated on this one thing because I love the teenagers I serve, I know how tough it is for them to fight the battles that surround them, and I desperately want to be able to point at one specific issue they’re facing and say, HEY, EVERYBODY. THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE BIG BAD THREAT. IF WE CAN FIX THIS, WE’RE GOOD.

Way down deep, though, I know that when it comes to the generation behind us, sexting really isn’t the biggest problem. Neither is apathy, for that matter. Neither is smoking marijuana or battling an eating disorder or maintaining a carefully crafted illusion of perfection. They’re all symptoms of the problem. But they’re really not the great big honkin’ problem.

Here’s what I mean.

One night last week I decided to watch a movie a lot of my twenty-something friends have seen. By and large I do a pretty terrible job of keeping up with movies, but I wanted to see this particular comedy. It was one of last summer’s big blockbusters, and it has come up in conversations over and over again.

So I settled in. I watched. And by the thirty-ish minute mark, I had come to the firm conclusion that it wasn’t my kind of movie at all. Honestly, I was pretty offended. Sure, there had been a few funny moments, but mostly it just struck me as sad. My mama would say it was “tacky, coarse, and crude,” but the bigger issue for me? The main character wasn’t likable. I didn’t know how to root for her. She seemed content to wallow in her bad choices and sabotage her relationships. She didn’t seem to hold herself in very high regard—you could search all day long for her self-respect and never find it—so it was difficult for me to root for her.

GET OFF MY LAWN.

And yes. I know. THE MOVIE IS PRETEND. THIS UNLIKABLE CHARACTER IS NOT REAL. But stay with me because all of this totally applies to a way bigger point.

So.

About twenty minutes before the movie was over, there were two things that sparked some compassion and grabbed my attention. The first was a song playing in the background during a break-up sequence. You know how those things typically go: girl and guy call it quits, girl and guy are miserable, girl journals at a coffee shop, guy sits on a park bench. The plot point wasn’t terribly original, but I thought the lyrics from a Wilco song were pretty insightful:

“I should warn you

When I’m not well

I can’t tell

Oh, there’s nothing I can do

To make this easier for you

You’re gonna need to be patient with me.”28

That was such a good, timely reminder. I get that it’s sort of a strange reminder in a somewhat unusual context, but my frustration with that movie character was no different than occasional frustrations with my high school kids or with my own family members: I fall into the trap of just wanting people to behave instead of loving them right where they are. I forget that none of us have ever been bossed into sincere repentance and life-changing redemption. Grace doesn’t work that way.

So that was the first spark. Here’s the second.

After the break-up sequence, the character who had been on my nerves throughout the whole movie goes to her sister’s house. They had a big falling out at their father’s funeral, so they hadn’t talked in a while. And as the sister sits and stares, stiff-backed and skeptical, the main character gets as honest as we’ve seen her:

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry . . . I’m not okay. I’m not okay. I know what I am. I know who I am. And I’m broken.”

THERE IT IS.

As the kids like to say: YASSSSSSSSSS.

Because that’s it, isn’t it? That’s the great big honkin’ problem.

WE ARE ALL SO BROKEN.

Brokenness is going to manifest itself in thousands of different ways. I certainly won’t attempt to put together a comprehensive list, but for the sake of discussion, I’ll mention a few: we’re unloving, we’re unforgiving, we’re self-sabotaging, we’re insecure, we’re bitter, we’re hyper-judgmental, we’re self-harming, we’re addicted, we’re dishonest, and we’re desperate for someone to validate us via sexting, hook-ups, or porn.

The world takes a toll, y’all. Combine that with our sin, and it can be a no bueno situation.

So this is why, older believers, we have to come alongside our younger folks in the most patient, loving, truthful, and understanding ways. This is why we have to intentionally build relationships (even with our own kids—because sharing square footage isn’t the same thing as living in community), why we have to be in it for the long haul, and why we can’t just clasp our pearls in feigned outrage when a teenager tells us that they’re getting wasted at least three nights a week or a twenty-something friend tells us that she “accidentally” slept with a guy she met in a bar.

And by the same token, this is why those of us in our thirties, forties, and fifties need to make sure that there’s an older woman (or two) who knows what’s really going on in our lives. Our issues may not be exactly what we see younger women facing (or who knows—they may be), but I think we all know that age doesn’t offer immunity from struggles and shame.

Admitting our brokenness is yuck. Coming to terms with it is humbling. But no matter how our brokenness has manifested itself—no matter how it’s holding us—it’s good to remember that we have a Redeemer who faithfully frees us from condemnation, who continually shatters the lies of our counterfeit gods, who graciously ushers us out of darkness and covers us with Marvelous Light.

That’s Good News.

And the younger women in our lives need to hear it.

I hope you know, by the way, that I’m not trying to be bossy. Not at all. I’m just saying, Hey, older people. There’s a generation behind us that needs us. So what’s the plan? Are we going to stick our heads in the sand? Or are we going to fight for the hearts and minds of the folks who may require a little extra patience right now?

Because I don’t know about you, but this is one instance where I don’t want the kids to get off my lawn.

I want them to stay on my lawn. In fact, I want them to sit a spell.

And I want to talk about some things.

So Boaz, I’m guessing, must have been all kinds of confused.

The harvest season was busy, and he’d worked late winnowing the barley. Afterward he’d enjoyed a great meal. According to Scripture, in fact, “his heart was merry.” However, he was no doubt tired after a long day, so he stretched out on a pile of grain, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.

But at midnight he woke up to find that there was a woman laying at his feet.

Apparently Ruth had followed Naomi’s instructions to the letter.

Boaz, no doubt startled by the presence of an unexpected visitor, asked what I think any of us would: “Who are you?”

I’d be willing to bet that Ruth’s heart was beating a mile a minute. I mean, how do you even begin to explain who you are? Why you’re there? What are you doing sleeping at a man’s feet when he’s made himself a bed on a heap of grain?

But Ruth was characteristically straightforward in her answer. “I am Ruth, your servant. Spread your wings over your servant, for you are a redeemer” (Ruth 3:9).

No kidding—this part of the story makes me want to put my hands over my eyes (and my ears) and rock back and forth a little bit, because Ruth made herself so incredibly vulnerable in that moment. She essentially asked Boaz to be her covering—to take her as his wife—and there’s a part of me (a part that apparently has some deep-seated rejection issues) that wants to say, “Nooooooo, sister! Don’t do it! Don’t volunteer for that much vulnerability! This could turn out very badly!”

Boaz, however, was as kind and gracious as you’d expect a redeemer to be. The first words out of his mouth were “May you be blessed by the Lord, my daughter” (v. 10)—and then he offered Ruth as much assurance as he possibly could. He esteemed her conduct, he told her not to be afraid, he validated her as “a worthy woman” (v. 11), and he shot straight with her about the possibility of “a redeemer nearer than I” (v. 12). Boaz knew that another relative of Mahlon and Elimelech—a man with a closer kinship—might ultimately be Ruth’s redeemer. But even in the midst of that uncertainty, Boaz treated Ruth with enormous respect.

He also left zero room for doubt or confusion (oh, I do like a decisive, plain-spoken man). In verse 13, he said, “Remain tonight, and in the morning, if [the other relative] will redeem you, go; let him do it. But if he is not willing to redeem you, then, as the Lord lives, I will redeem you. Lie down until the morning.”

Ruth knew exactly where she stood with him before she went to sleep. On top of that, by not sending her out into the night, Boaz made sure she was safe and had an opportunity to rest. There weren’t any overtures, there wasn’t any compromise, and because of that, there wouldn’t be any regret or shame, either.

This is what good men do, by the way. They honor women. They look out for women. And they don’t play games.

Before Ruth went home the next morning, Boaz gave her “six measures of barley” (v. 15) which, in modern measurements, officially amounts to A LOT. It was “as much as she could well carry,”29 and when Ruth finally saw Naomi (who must have been on pins and needles waiting to hear about the night), she told her what had happened, including what we assume were Boaz’s parting words: “You must not go back empty-handed to your mother-in-law.”

(Hey—there’s a good Life Tip for you: good men don’t leave you and your people empty-handed.)

(And for that matter, a redeemer will never leave you empty-hearted.)

(Why do I suddenly feel the need to snap? What’s wrong with me?)

Boaz definitely provided for Naomi’s and Ruth’s physical needs with that big barley haul. But there’s something else going on, too; Naomi’s final words in chapter 3 indicated that she trusted Boaz’s ability to provide in other ways. She told Ruth, “’Wait, my daughter, until you learn how the matter turns out, for the man will not rest but will settle the matter today” (v. 18).

Isn’t it interesting? At the beginning of Ruth 3, Naomi told Ruth she wanted to “seek rest” for her. Then Ruth went to see Boaz, and he told her to “lie down,” essentially giving her the gift of rest when she could have worried and paced all night. And later, in verse 18, Naomi told Ruth to “wait”—to take it easy—because Boaz would not rest until he followed through on his word.

Ruth endured the death of her first husband. She traveled to a new country. She lived as a foreigner in a strange land. She battled poverty. She labored in the fields. She faced unfamiliar customs. But after her kinsman-redeemer entered the picture—she could rest. She could wait. She could breathe.

And all of this was possible because of the companionship, counsel, and wisdom of her mother-in-law.

Think about that for a second. Yes, Naomi needed Ruth for the journey back to Bethlehem. But I’m confident that Ruth needed Naomi just as much. How else would she have known about the wonder, the promise, and the peace of redemption?

Those two paths were meant to intersect.

And those two lives can teach us.

This life is a gift—no doubt about it—but it is not for the faint of heart. Navigating the journey can be tough, and we’re bound to trip up from time to time. Odds are we’ll also make a few wrong turns. So if we’ve been walking the road a little longer—if we’re more familiar with the terrain—it is right and good for us to extend a hand to a younger friend or relative who isn’t quite as sure which way to go. We can carry an extra bag or two. We can even share some directions when the route gets confusing.

But more than anything else, as we travel together—as we start and stop and lead and follow and rest and start again—we can lovingly, consistently, and patiently point each other toward the Light, our heavenly Father, our Eternal Redeemer.

It may not be an easy road, but it’s the path of peace.

And it’s the only Way that leads us Home.