3 Important Lessons We Can All Learn From The Story of Ruth

3 Important Lessons We Can All Learn From The Story of Ruth

One woman can teach us so much.


Most of us through Sunday School or Bible study have heard about the story of Ruth, the woman who decided to leave everything behind and follow her mother-in-law Naomi back to Bethlehem after both of their husbands die. If you didn't know (and you probably didn't), one of my middle names is Ruth and the other day I decided to investigate about my namesake from the Bible and ended up learning three valuable lessons from her story that I'll share with you today.

1. Have faith even in hard times.

Ruth constantly had faith in God. Even after the death of her husband and having to move to a foreign town that was in the middle of a famine with her mother-in-law, she still trusted in God even though she had no idea what the future held. She had faith that he would continue to be there for her and would provide whatever she and Naomi needed.

Just like Ruth, we need to learn not to forsake God when times get hard. I know it's difficult to keep trusting in God when everything seems to be working against you, but remember the things he has done for you in the past and remember that He will not put you in a situation that you can't handle.

2. Don't allow your past to define your future.

Ruth lost her family when her husband died and because she has no children before he died, she was all alone except for her mother-in-law. Her decision to move to Bethlehem with Naomi must have been nerve-wracking because she was from Moab, a city the Israelites despised. Despite all this, she forged on and was able to start a new life with a new family

In the same way, we should not let what happened to us in the past define what we will do with our future. It's never too late to start over and choose a different path and although it may seem scary we, just like Ruth, have to have to confidence o try something new and exciting.

3. There is value in having good character.

Ruth was great character. She was a hard worker, loyal to her mother-in-law, and showed integrity in her relationship with Boaz. Although things were hard at first, it paid off when she finally got with Boaz and started a new family with him.

We also should develop our character and make sure that no one and no situation can ever compromise it because a good character is not something that can be bought or stolen.

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The End Of The Semester As Told By Todd Chrisley

Because we're all a little dramatic like Todd sometimes.

The last 3-4 weeks of every college student’s semester are always crazy hectic. We have last minute assignments, group projects, and exams all squeezed into the last few weeks before break.

Sometimes we all need a little humor, and sometimes we are all a little dramatic, so why not experience the last few weeks of the semester as told by the king of drama himself, Todd Chrisley of Chrisley Knows Best.

1. Sitting in class listening to your professor explain upcoming assignments/exams.

2. When your group project members refuse to do anything until the night before it's due or just show up the day of to present.

3. When you and your roommate try to cook with whatever few ingredients you have left in stock.

Because we definitely want to avoid going to the grocery store at the end of the semester if we can.

4. When your parents get tired of you calling them about every little inconvenience in your life.

5. Sitting down to work on assignments.

6. Your thoughts when the professor is telling you what they want from you out of an assignment.

7. When you've had about 30 mental breakdowns in 2 days.

8. Trying to search out the class for the right group members.

9. The last few days of classes where everyone and everything is getting on your nerves.

10. When your friend suggests going out but you're just done with the world.

11. This. On the daily.

12. When all you want to do is snuggle up and watch Christmas movies.

13. Studying and realizing you know nothing.

14. When your finals are over and it's finally time to go home for break.

You're finally back to your old self.

Cover Image Credit: Instagram

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The Breath of Solitude

A Poem With A Prologue // Polar Viewpoints.



She smacks your parted lips,

sucking the dry,

open cracks to a seal.

Pumping energy into your chest

and sending a continuous shiver

from lung to navel.

You can't help but cough,

as your lungs tighten and twist.

Ringing the frosty sensation out –

slipping through your parted lips.

The same parted lips that

allowed her deliberate fingers

to crawl inside

where she can escape her own dimension

of solitude.

The Breath of Solitude

All I know

is solitude.

We chat

every day

in conversations that circulate

behind the backs

of the present.

Solitude grinds my coffee beans,

as we sit

with our legs crossed,

waiting for dawn

to explode over our opaque landscape.

Solitude runs my bath,


as the Sun crashes

against the diminishing horizon.

But none of this is reality.

I am above

the dimension of reality.

Not theoretically,

but physically.

I am only a tool

to be used in the dimension

of your reality.

Drifting in and out,

twirling through your negative space.

My only purpose

is found through your breath;

but what do I do

when you stop breathing?

I wait for your fingers,

less deliberate than mine,

but filled with that

that I lack.

I cannot see the blood

that sloshes through the veins

in your innocent hands.

The blood that energizes

those fingers

upon which I wait.

But I know

the blood is there.

It isn't

what you do.

It isn't

the way you move.

Simply put,

it is

the way

that you exist.

The sheer fact

that you have a bursting burgundy waterfall


not only through your fingers,

but engulfing all of you

in its rich,



The only waterfall

that I encompass

is the waterfall

that you imagine.

I have no blood;

I have no way to exist.

And so I

wait for your fingers,

less deliberate than mine,

but filled with that

that I lack.

I wait for your fingers

to filter the heat

to a state of regulation,

a state of production,

a state in which I can exist.

The peach fuzz

that sleeps on the bridge of your nose

begins to rise

when your fingers initiate the flame.

The temperature reacts,

as would my heartbeat,

if I had a bursting burgundy waterfall,

or some type of life source

inhabiting my chest cavity.

As the heat

starts to melt

my metaphorical skin,

I become reality.

I don't have a face to smile,

or eyes to produce tears.

But I have thoughts.

I have words to say,

I have feelings to express.

I still can only drift,

in and out,

twirling through your negative space,

but now spiraling

into your positive space,

as well.


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