“Do not call me Naomi; call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me” (Ruth 1:20).
Mara means “bitter.”
Can you imagine running into an old friend after years apart… and when she calls your name, you reply, “Don’t call me Donna or Diane or David—call me Bitter”?
It’s striking. Uncomfortable, even.
But Naomi’s words reveal something deeper than a moment of grief—they reveal a heart weighed down by bitterness.
And if we’re honest… she’s not the only one who has felt that way.
Bitterness has a way of quietly taking root in our hearts. Sometimes it grows out of real hurt, real loss, real disappointment. But if we allow it to linger, it never stays contained. It spills over—into our attitudes, our relationships, and even our view of God.
That’s why it’s so important to deal with it… and to deal with it biblically.
As we come to the end of the book of Judges, we see a sobering pattern: one sin leading to another, until the results become increasingly dark, destructive, and heartbreaking. The stories are unsettling—so much so that they can almost feel shocking to read.
And yet… they don’t feel as distant as we might expect.
In many ways, the kinds of things we see in Judges echo what we see around us today—brokenness, violence, confusion about right and wrong, and a growing resistance to God’s design.
Scripture shows us where that path leads.
And it also reminds us that God is patient—but not indifferent. There comes a point when He says, “Enough.”
So the question for us isn’t just what’s happening in the world…
When a society begins to drift morally, who feels the effects most deeply?
It’s easy to believe that we can live however we want without real consequences. That we’re free to define right and wrong for ourselves. And for a while, it can even seem like that’s true.
But Scripture paints a very different picture.
The Bible reminds us that while we may choose our actions, we don’t get to choose their outcomes. Sin always carries consequences—sometimes built into the choices themselves, and other times allowed or appointed by a God who will not be mocked.
And that raises a sobering question:
When sin is normalized and restraint disappears, is it possible that women often bear the heaviest burden?
Have you ever wondered, “Could God really use someone like me?”
Maybe you look at your past… your failures… your lack of knowledge or confidence—and quietly assume you don’t have much to offer.
“I don’t know enough.”
“I don’t have the right gifts.”
“I could never do anything significant for God.”
If that sounds familiar, you’re not alone.
But it may also be that your understanding of the people God uses is a little incomplete.
If your picture of the Bible comes mostly from Sunday school stories, you might remember the highlights—but miss the flaws.
Yes, David killed a giant—but he also committed adultery and arranged a man’s death.
Gideon led a miraculous victory—but struggled deeply with fear and doubt.
Jonah preached to a city—but only after running from God in rebellion.
And Samson… well, his story might challenge you more than you expect.
Because when you look closely, the Bible isn’t a collection of perfect people God used—it’s a record of imperfect people God used anyway.
No parent sets out to sabotage their child’s future.
And yet… it can happen more easily than we think.
Sometimes, in our desire to love our children well, we try to give them everything they want. We smooth the path, remove obstacles, and shield them from discomfort. It feels right in the moment—after all, what parent doesn’t want their child to be happy?
But instead of producing lasting joy, this approach can quietly create something else: entitlement, frustration, and a growing expectation that life should always go their way. Over time, that can shape not only their character, but also their view of God—seeing Him less as a loving authority and more as someone who exists to meet their demands.
That raises some important questions:
How is your parenting shaping your child’s understanding of God?
Are you preparing them for the realities of marriage, work, and relationships?
And what lessons can we take from the life of Samson—a man of great potential who was undone by his thinking and self-focus?
If we’re honest, forgiveness isn’t always the struggle we expect it to be—it’s often harder.
We know what God says. We’ve heard the verses. We understand, at least in theory, that we should forgive. And yet… something in us resists.
Maybe you’ve caught yourself thinking:
“I’m not going to forgive—this isn’t the first time.”
“If I forgive, they’ll think it’s okay and just keep doing it.”
“What she said really hurt. Maybe it’s time she felt some of that too.”
“I’ll forgive… but I’m not going to forget.”
“I’m just not ready.”
“How do I forgive when I don’t even feel like it?”
“Wouldn’t it be hypocritical to say I forgive if I don’t mean it?”
Those thoughts are more common than we like to admit—and they reveal something important: forgiveness isn’t just a simple decision; it’s a deep heart issue.
But what if part of the struggle comes from not fully understanding what forgiveness really is?
What if there are truths we’re missing that could actually help us move forward—even when our emotions are lagging behind?
“Why did God allow polygamy in the Old Testament?” I’ve heard that question many times. Or “Did God approve of it?” And “If not, why did He allow it?” The truth is, it was never God’s intent. But it was what many considered acceptable, we might say an acceptable sin, if they viewed it as sin at all. What sins has our society come to consider acceptable? What sins do you and I consider acceptable?
Also, today, what keeps you from sharing your faith? Fear? Intimidation? Not having the right answers? What is hindering you from being a faithful witness for Christ at a time when many people are fearful and possibly considering eternal things?
Loving prodigals can be heartbreaking and confusing. It’s hard to know what to do. When should we help? And when should we stay out of the way? Perhaps we should ask ourselves, are we really helping, or could we merely be helping them stay comfortable in their pigsty, the very place God wants them to feel uncomfortable, even hungry?
If you have a prodigal, I hope you’ll read today’s post and share your thoughts.
And from our other readings:
What is death? Why do we call an unbeliever spiritually dead? What is the second death?
Finally, some questions we should ask ourselves. James tells us we are to be doers of the Word and not hearers only. But I think we could also say that we should be doers and not just talkers when it comes to doing. Do we talk a lot about God or actually live for Him? Do we talk about winning souls, or do we share the gospel? And do we talk about prayer or do we pray? I know these are convicting questions for me. How about you?
Do you ever find yourself a little bored with the Bible? Or skimming over a passage because you’ve heard or read it many times before? Is it possible that our familiarity with the Word or with certain passages can keep us from benefiting from our Bible reading? Today, we’ll look at one very familiar passage of Scripture, talk about why God doesn’t want us to have a ho-hum attitude, and why every verse in the Bible is important.
Is God calling you to be a superhero? Today in the book of Judges, we will meet two women, both of whom might be called superheroes. What do their stories possibly have to do with us? How might God be calling us to be superheroes?
And in our New Testament reading, great multitudes were following Jesus. What an evangelistic opportunity! But instead of encouraging them, he wanted to know if they had counted the cost of following Him and whether they were prepared to love Him so much that their love for father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, even love for themselves would seem like hate in comparison. So, is Christianity really that simple … just pray a prayer and ask Jesus into your heart?
