The God Who Carries Me

November 9, 2026

Exodus 9–10 • Judges 20–Ruth 1 • Psalms 52–54 • Isaiah 44–46 • Luke 15–16 • Philippians 2–3

Key Thought

We often try to keep everything in our lives under control. But the good news in Scripture is that our hope doesn’t depend on how tightly we hold on to God. Instead, it rests on God’s faithfulness to hold on to us.

Seeing the Story

Today’s readings show a striking contrast that I nearly overlooked.

Isaiah 46 describes how the idols of Babylon are loaded onto animals and carried off. These man-made gods have become a burden to the people who worship them. They can’t move, speak, or save anyone. They must be carried.

Then the living God declares:

“Even to your old age I am he, and to gray hairs I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save.” (Isaiah 46:4, ESV)

That’s an amazing difference.

False gods must be carried by their worshipers. The living God carries His people.

As I kept reading, I noticed this truth showing up again and again in the story.

In Exodus 9–10, Pharaoh continues resisting the Lord despite overwhelming evidence of His power. The plagues intensify, but Pharaoh refuses to surrender. He believes he can negotiate with God, maintain control, and determine the terms of obedience.

Pharaoh’s problem isn’t a lack of evidence. It’s a heart unwilling to yield.

Then we come to Judges 20–21, where Israel has descended into such moral confusion that the nation nearly destroys one of its own tribes. These chapters are disturbing, and they’re meant to be. The final words of Judges summarize the tragedy:

“Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” (Judges 21:25, ESV)

When people abandon the authority of God, they don’t become free. They become enslaved to their own distorted understanding of what is right.

And then we turn the page to Ruth.

Sometimes we don’t realize how important that change really is.

The book of Judges ends by telling us there was no king in Israel. Everyone was doing what was right in his own eyes. The nation was spiritually and morally unraveling.

But the opening words of Ruth take us right back into that same period:

“In the days when the judges ruled...” (Ruth 1:1, ESV)

So Ruth isn’t set in a time when Israel had everything figured out. Her story takes place during the same difficult period we just read about in Judges.

What a difference that makes!

While Israel keeps breaking its covenant with God, a woman from Moab shows amazing loyalty to that same covenant.

Ruth has lost her husband. Her mother-in-law, Naomi, has lost her husband and both sons. Their future is uncertain, and Naomi decides to return to Bethlehem.

Ruth could have stayed in Moab with her own people, where she might have been safer.

Instead, she makes an extraordinary commitment:

“Your people shall be my people, and your God my God.” (Ruth 1:16, ESV)

Let that sink in for a moment.

While God’s covenant people are repeatedly turning away from Him, a woman from Moab is turning toward Him.

While Israel does whatever seems right to them, Ruth shows a faithfulness that comes at a cost.

Even as the nation seems to be falling apart, God is quietly working through the loyalty of these two grieving widows.

That’s something beautiful about Ruth. The first chapter doesn’t have dramatic miracles—no plagues, no parted seas, no obvious signs of God’s power.

It’s simply an ordinary woman making an extraordinary choice to love and stay faithful.

Yet God is at work.

Ruth 1 ends with Naomi and Ruth arriving in Bethlehem at the beginning of the barley harvest.

It’s a small detail, but it shows that the story isn’t over yet.

Naomi cannot yet see what God is doing. In fact, she's so overwhelmed by grief that she says the Almighty has dealt bitterly with her.

Her pain is real. Her losses are real. And she has no idea what lies ahead.

But Naomi didn’t come back by herself.

Ruth is standing beside her.

And as the story unfolds, we discover that God will provide for these women through Boaz, a family redeemer. Ruth will eventually become the great-grandmother of King David.

Can you see how these stories connect?

Judges ends with a problem, Israel has no king, and everyone does what they think is right. Ruth starts to show God’s answer by tracing the family line that will lead to Israel’s king.

But even David isn’t the final answer.

Centuries later, another descendant of Ruth will be born in Bethlehem. Jesus. The true King. The greater Redeemer.

He is the one who will do what neither the judges nor Israel’s kings could do: save His people from their sins.

And there is another remarkable detail. Ruth is a Moabite, a foreigner who comes to trust Israel’s God. Her inclusion in the family line of Jesus anticipates the wonderful truth that God’s saving purposes extend beyond Israel to people from every nation.

Even during the darkest days in Judges, God was already moving the story of redemption forward through the faithfulness of a woman Israel might have seen as an outsider.

That brings us to Psalms 52–54.

These psalms teach us that human strength, wealth, and wisdom cannot ultimately save. Psalm 52 contrasts those who trust in their riches with those who trust in God’s steadfast love. Psalm 53 exposes the universal problem of human sin, while Psalm 54 expresses David’s dependence upon God for deliverance.

We need more than just better circumstances. We need to be rescued.

And Isaiah 44–46 tells us that the Lord Himself is the only One capable of providing it.

God exposes the foolishness of idolatry, declares His sovereignty over the nations, and calls the ends of the earth to turn to Him for salvation.

Then we arrive at Luke 15.

Jesus tells three stories about something lost: a sheep, a coin, and a son.

The shepherd searches for the sheep. The woman searches for the coin. The father welcomes home his lost son.

I was particularly struck by what the shepherd does when he finds the sheep.

He doesn’t demand that it find its own way home.

He places it on his shoulders and rejoices.

We see it again here.

The God who promises to carry His people in Isaiah is revealed in Jesus, the Good Shepherd who seeks and saves the lost.

The father’s welcome in Luke 15 also shows us the same grace we see in Ruth’s story. Ruth comes as a foreigner, with no claim to privilege, but she still finds a place among God’s people.

The gospel reveals the fullness of that welcome. Through Jesus, people who were once far off are brought near.

Luke 16 gives us an important warning. The story of the rich man and Lazarus shows that wealth, status, and comfort in this life can’t protect us after death. What we trust in now matters forever.

Finally, Philippians 2–3 helps us see the main point.

Jesus Christ, though truly God, humbled Himself, taking the form of a servant and becoming obedient to death on a cross.

He didn’t hold on to His privileges. Instead, He chose to humble Himself so we could be saved.

Paul used to depend on his religious background and personal achievements, but now he sees all of that as worthless compared to knowing Christ.

His confidence has shifted entirely.

Not in what he has accomplished.

Not in what he can control.

Not in his ability to make himself acceptable to God.

But in Jesus.

From Pharaoh’s stubbornness to Israel’s rebellion, from Naomi’s grief to Ruth’s faithfulness, and from God’s promise to carry His people to the Shepherd who brings His sheep home, the message is clear.

We cannot save ourselves. But God has come to save us.

For Today: A Personal Reflection

I keep coming back to four words in Isaiah 46:4.

“I will carry you.”

After more than thirty-five years in ministry, I’ve preached many sermons about trusting God. I’ve told others that He is sovereign, that His providence is perfect, and that His faithfulness doesn’t depend on our circumstances.

I believe every word of that.

But I’ve also discovered that believing in God’s sovereignty and being content with His providence are not always the same thing.

Over the past two and a half years, I’ve walked through a season I never expected. After fifteen years as pastor of the same church, that chapter of my life ended suddenly. Along with it, I lost routines, responsibilities, and relationships that had become a big part of my life.

I’ve faced disappointments, unanswered questions, and moments when I couldn’t make sense of what had happened.

To be honest, I’ve sometimes spent more time trying to understand the past than trusting God with the present.

That’s why Naomi’s story speaks so personally to me.

When Naomi returned to Bethlehem, she wasn’t excited about a fresh start. She was mourning her losses. Her life had taken a direction she never wanted.

And she wasn’t afraid to say so.

What stands out to me is that the author doesn’t rush to resolve Naomi’s grief or explain everything God is doing in the background.

We know something Naomi didn’t know.

We know about Boaz. We know about David. And we know that generations later, Jesus would come through this family.

But Naomi didn’t know any of that.

She returned to Bethlehem with her grief, her uncertainty, and her loyal daughter-in-law beside her.

God was already at work in Naomi’s story, even while she was struggling to make sense of it.

I find that incredibly encouraging.

Not because I expect every disappointment in my life to become something I can celebrate. The Bible doesn’t promise that.

But God’s faithfulness doesn’t depend on whether I can see what He is doing.

So I have to ask myself: Can I trust the Lord even if some questions remain unanswered and some things never change?

I want to say yes right away.

But I know I’m still learning to surrender.

One of the hardest parts of leaving pastoral ministry wasn’t simply stepping away from the work. It was recognizing how much of my identity I had tied to it.

For years, I was the pastor. People depended on me. I had sermons to prepare, and my days were filled with responsibilities that gave me structure and purpose.

Now, my days are different.

I’m grateful for the new opportunities God has given me. Still, I’ve had to relearn something that should have been clear from the start.

My identity was never meant to be about what I do for Jesus, but about who I am in Him.

That’s why Philippians 3 feels like the perfect way to end today’s readings.

Paul had an impressive background. If anyone could have placed confidence in his achievements, it was Paul.

But he came to count everything else as loss compared to the value of knowing Christ.

Then, in verse 12, he says something remarkable:

“I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.” (Philippians 3:12, ESV)

Pay attention to the order here.

Paul keeps going because Jesus has already made him His own.

He pursues Jesus because Jesus first claimed him.

That makes all the difference.

I don’t serve to earn my identity. I serve because my identity is already secure in Christ.

I don’t need to understand every part of my life to know I belong to Him.

I don’t have to carry yesterday’s weight into tomorrow as though everything depends on me.

There are still things I wish had turned out differently, relationships I wish were better, and questions I would love to have answered.

But maybe faithfulness right now means leaving those things with the Lord and giving my attention to the opportunities He places before me today.

I can still serve, teach, encourage others, and love the people God brings into my life.

My circumstances may have changed, but the call to follow Jesus remains the same.

And the Savior hasn’t changed either.

I’ve come to see that Isaiah 46:4 doesn’t promise an easier life as we grow older. It promises that the God who has carried His people will remain faithful.

I’m certainly noticing that the years pass faster than I ever imagined!

But I find comfort in knowing that the Lord’s faithfulness doesn’t fade with the years or the changes life brings.

One of the biggest lessons God is teaching me is that I don’t have to keep everything together, because I belong to the One who holds everything together.

That’s where I want to find my rest.

Not in having all my questions answered.

Not in knowing what will happen tomorrow.

But in knowing the Savior who has made me His own.

Something to Think About

What am I carrying today that God never meant for me to carry on my own?

Am I trusting in my own ability to handle things, protect my reputation, or secure my future? Or am I resting in the faithfulness of the Savior who promised never to leave His people?

Here’s another question worth thinking about:

Am I more focused on understanding what God is doing in my life, or on knowing Him more deeply through whatever He allows?

A Practical Response: Name one burden you’ve been carrying and bring it to the Lord in prayer. Then choose one simple way to serve, encourage, or love someone today, remembering that your identity is secure in Jesus.

Prayer

Father, thank You for carrying me.

Forgive me for trying to control everything and carry my burdens alone. Help me trust You.

Thank You for Your patience and faithfulness, even when I don’t understand.

When I feel regret or worry, remind me of Your grace and promises. Help me leave what I can’t change in Your hands.

Help me know and love Jesus more as my Savior and Shepherd.

Keep working in me, Lord.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Closing Thought

Today’s readings go from Pharaoh’s stubbornness to Israel’s spiritual collapse, from Naomi’s sorrow and Ruth’s faithfulness to God’s promises in Isaiah, and finally to the Savior who seeks the lost and humbles Himself to redeem them.

It’s all one story.

Judges ends with a nation in desperate need of a king.

Ruth quietly introduces the family that will bring that king.

But the story doesn’t stop with David. It leads us to David’s greater Son, Jesus.

He is not just another king, but the King of kings.

He is not just a family redeemer, but the Redeemer of sinners.

The One who doesn’t simply tell His people to find their way home. He comes to seek them, save them, and carry them. The gospel is not the story of heroic effort to reach God. It is the story of the Savior who humbled Himself to reach us, redeem us, and bring us home.

And when we have no strength left, His faithfulness is still there.

One story. One Savior.

And it’s such a comfort to know that the God who saved us is also the God who carries us.

~Ebenezer Wayfarer

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