I like to picture the story of Ruth and Boaz being told to those in the line of Jesse, around dinner tables, before bedtime to the ears of little listeners. And that, my children, is the story of a harvest of faithfulness. All ears tuned, hearts warmed. It’s not a gripping story, but it’s a good one. Ruth and Boaz both trusted God enough to do what he asked of them even when it did not make sense: Ruth to remain loyal to Naomi even though it meant death, and Boaz to look out for Naomi and Ruth even though it was of no advantage to him. The story ends in a peaceful place with marriage and harvest, but the actions of Ruth and Boaz extend farther than the chapters of Ruth. Through their union comes the line of Jesse. Through the line of Jesse comes David. Through David comes Jesus. Our stories will yield a harvest. If we are lucky, we will have glimmers of that in this life. But we are not promised the opportunity to marvel over our harvest–we aren’t promised the opportunity to look at every struggle, every death to self, every act of faithfulness and see how it all fits together. I want to stop living for my own harvest and start being okay with letting my actions echo in some distant place. But do I hope my grandchildren’s grandchildren’s grandchildren will know the story of God in my life: that they will know He is real and that they will see from their vantage point how he pieced together my life to tell a bigger story. If that is where my harvest lies, then obedience and faith and perseverance make a little more sense.