And she took it up and went into the city. Her mother-in-law saw what she had gleaned. She also brought out and gave her what food she had left over after being satisfied. And her mother-in-law said to her, “Where did you glean today? And where have you worked? Blessed be the man who took notice of you.” So she told her mother-in-law with whom she had worked and said, ‘The man’s name with whom I worked today is Boaz.’” (Ruth 2:18-19 ESV)
Naomi had been living with a sense of emptiness for a long time. So much so that she changed her name to Mara — Bitter. Because that’s what she was. She went out full and came back empty, and she wanted everyone to know it.
So when Ruth walked through the door that evening carrying thirty pounds of barley and then pulled out leftover food on top of that, something shifted. Naomi looked at the grain. Then she looked at Ruth. “Where did you get all this?” But what she’s really asking is, “Who noticed you?” Naomi knew that this kind of harvest didn’t just happen. Somebody had to have noticed Ruth. And she was right.
The Hebrew word translated “took notice” is nakar (נָכַר), pronounced naw-KAR. It means to recognize, to fix your attention on someone, to really see them.
All through the Old Testament, God is described this way. He sees Hagar alone in the wilderness and she calls him El Roi, “the God who sees me.” He notices David when no one else in his family does. He pays attention to a grieving widow in Zarephath, to a fearful man hiding in a winepress, to His people enslaved in Egypt. There’s something in God that refuses to look past people that others overlook.
The interesting thing about nakar is that it can actually mean two opposite things. It can mean to take notice and show concern, but it can also mean to disregard someone and turn away. Nakar is less about the action (drawing near or turning away) and more about the act of recognition itself.
It’s a bit like the English concept of “recognizing someone.” You recognize a friend and you move toward them. You recognize a threat and you back away. You recognize a stranger and you may ignore or avoid them. The recognition is the same. It’s the response that changes.
Boaz was someone who had cultivated the habit of really looking. He noticed Ruth when his own workers hadn’t thought twice about her and he chose to extend kindness to her.
And that’s the choice in front of each of us. Every day we come in contact with people at work, in our neighborhoods, or at church who are carrying burdens, hoping that someone might notice them. And we get to decide what we’ll do with what we see.
So the question for today is this: Who in your world is waiting to be noticed? And just as important: Do you believe God’s gaze is fixed on you?
Prayer: Lord, thank You that You are a God who sees, who has never once looked past me. Open my eyes to the people around me who are longing to be noticed. Give me the willingness to slow down, to really look, and to respond with kindness. And when I feel unseen, remind me that Your eyes are always upon me. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Alan Smith
Reprinted with permission from Alan Smith’s Thought For the Day