Naomi, Mara, No – Naomi

– Ponderings:

I was talking with a friend yesterday, and she asked, “Is it alright to be angry with God?” Anger, of course, can be a negative and destructive emotion, harming both those to whom it’s directed and ourselves. On the other hand, there is such a thing as righteous anger, anger at injustice, oppression, violence, and other forms of evil. Then we’re left with the fine line about expressing our anger at actions and systems while sharing God’s love for everyone, us and them included. But, what about when our anger is directed at God because we feel we’ve been treated unjustly or have been dealt more than we can handle?

In our women’s Bible study the last two weeks, we spent some time in the Book of Ruth, and my answer to my friend’s question came from there. There’s a quiet honesty in the Book of Ruth that most of us tend to skip over. We love the story of loyalty between Ruth and her mother-in-law Naomi (“Where you go, I will go. Your God will be my God, and your people will be my people.”) and the romance between Ruth and Boaz that produces a son who will lead to King David and to Jesus. But before we get to the happy ending, we meet Naomi—bitter, broken, and angry with God.

When Naomi returns to Bethlehem after losing her husband, her sons, and, as far as she can see, her future, she tells everyone not to call her Naomi anymore. “Call me Mara,” she says, “because the Almighty has made my life very bitter.” Her name—Naomi—means “pleasant” or “sweet.” Mara means “bitter.” She doesn’t hide how she feels. She doesn’t feel pleasant or sweet, not toward anyone, God included. She’s grieving and angry, and she’s not afraid to say that God is part of the reason.

And here’s what we often miss: God doesn’t rebuke her.

There’s no divine thunderclap, no prophet showing up to correct her attitude. Instead, the story keeps moving. And as it unfolds, we watch as Naomi’s bitterness doesn’t become her final identity.

Naomi was angry, and understandably so. She lost everything, including her faith in God’s love for her. But even in her anger, she didn’t cut herself off from her community or from God. She kept moving forward, even if it was slowly and painfully. In the end, Naomi is holding a baby in her arms—her grandson. Her story, once bitter, ends in unexpected joy. She gives up the name Mara and reclaims the name Naomi.

What does Naomi teach us?

She teaches us that being angry with God is not the same as rejecting God. It’s part of the relationship. Naomi didn’t pretend everything was fine. She told the truth about how she felt. But she stayed in the story. She allowed God room to keep working.

We sometimes feel like we have to put on a brave face in our faith—smile through the suffering, sing through the sorrow. But Naomi shows us that real faith can include grief, frustration, even bitterness. The key is not staying there. We can be angry with God, so long as we don’t allow anger to consume us. We can share our anger with God, so long as we don’t stay angry.

Anger with God isn’t fatal to our faith. It can be a sign of faith, of confidence that we believe God is big enough to handle our pain. So if you’re in a season where your prayers feel more like laments than praise songs, know this: you’re in good company. Naomi was angry. But she didn’t stay there. She found the sweetness again.

Prayer: God of Naomi, you see the bitterness I try to hide. You know the questions I’m afraid to ask, the grief I can’t explain, and the anger I don’t know what to do with. Thank you for being a God who listens, even when my words come out as complaints or tears.

Teach me to be honest in my pain, but not to stay stuck in it. Help me to keep showing up and to hope and trust again. Turn my bitterness into something beautiful. Amen.