Day 118

Ruth 3–4 | Acts 14:1–18

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Some heroes don’t arrive with trumpets.

Some come quietly. Humbly. Stepping into the brokenness without demanding the spotlight.

That’s what we see today in Ruth 3 and 4.

Boaz doesn’t just admire Ruth’s faithfulness from afar.

He steps in.

He acts.

He redeems.

And not with a private handshake or a backroom deal.

Redemption requires cost—and Boaz is willing to pay it publicly, sacrificially, without hesitation.

No self-promotion. No power plays. Just covenant love, sealed in full view of the witnesses.

Because real redemption never keeps its distance.

It moves toward the need.

When the Wrong Heroes Get the Credit

Meanwhile, in Acts 14, Paul and Barnabas are watching a very different scene unfold.

They heal a man crippled from birth—and the people in the crowd lose their minds.

They don’t thank God. They don’t worship Jesus. They start worshiping Paul and Barnabas.

“The gods have come down to us in the likeness of men!” they shout. (Acts 14:11)

They bring out sacrifices. They prepare to offer worship.

And Paul and Barnabas tear their clothes in horror.

“Why are you doing these things? We are also men, of like nature with you…” (Acts 14:15)

They point away from themselves.

Point up.

Point to the living God.

Because real redemption isn’t about the vessel.

It’s about the hand that holds it.

The Subtle Temptation to Be the Hero

I see myself in that crowd more often than I’d like to admit.

Not bowing down to apostles. But craving human heroes. Elevating giftedness over godliness. Celebrating voices over the Word.

And sometimes—worse still—I see the temptation in myself to want to be the hero.

When someone says they were moved by something I wrote. When someone stops me to say they’re reading the blog. When someone thanks me for pointing them to Christ.

There’s a subtle whisper: “You’re doing something special.”

But I know better.

I know the weakness behind the words. The pride that still lurks. The days I nearly quit because I didn’t feel noticed or needed.

If there’s anything good coming out of this season, it’s not because I’m strong.

It’s because the real Redeemer stepped in.

The Better Story

Boaz points us to Jesus—not because he was flashy, but because he was faithful.

Paul and Barnabas point us to Jesus—not because they performed miracles, but because they refused the worship meant for Another.

And that’s the kind of man I want to be.

Not the hero.

Not the savior.

Not the one holding the pen.

Just the one clinging to the hem of the real Redeemer’s robe.

If anything good comes out of this blog, or this broken season, or this battered body—it won’t be because I built it.

It will be because grace carried it.

Because Jesus doesn’t just redeem souls.

He redeems stories.

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Lord, when the crowd cheers, teach me to tear the robe, not take the credit. When I’m tempted to see myself as the hero, remind me again: I am just the rescued. You are the Rescuer. You are the Redeemer. You are the only Name worth remembering when all the others have faded away.

Amen.