Mother’s Day Devotion: “Love That Crosses Over”

“Where you go, I will go… your people shall be my people, and your God my God.” — Ruth 1:16

I remember sitting at a kitchen table one afternoon, watching a woman I knew, not my mother, though she might as well have been, move around the room as if she had always belonged there. She wasn’t loud, and she didn’t make speeches. Instead, she simply showed up. She cooked, checked in, and asked the questions nobody else thought to ask. What struck me most was not just what she did, but what she had chosen. She stepped into a space that didn’t begin with her, into a family that didn’t come from her, and she stayed. She did not carry a title, nor was she obligated, yet she crossed over and remained present in a way that made all the difference. In that moment, I realized that kind of love does not happen by accident. It is a decision.

We often refer to this type of love as “mothering.” It isn’t confined to biological ties but is rooted in presence. It goes beyond giving birth; it’s about offering yourself. This love steps in, creates space, and stays even when it might be easier to walk away.

That is why, when I read the story of Ruth, I do not just see loyalty. I see a woman making a profound decision to cross over. Ruth stands on a road where she has every reason to turn back. Behind her is everything familiar: her people, her language, and her way of life. In front of her is uncertainty. Naomi even gives her permission to leave and return to what makes sense. Yet Ruth looks at her and says, “Where you go, I will go.” This is not simply a tender statement; it is a costly choice. She chooses to step into a life that is not her own, to tie her future to someone else’s uncertainty, and to enter a space where she may never fully belong.

As the story unfolds, it becomes clear that this kind of love is not passive. It does not remain in place; it moves. It crosses boundaries. It leaves comfort behind and steps into another person’s world with the quiet but firm resolve to stay. When we reflect on it, we begin to see that this is the kind of love many mothers carry, not only those who give birth, but also those who step in when life creates a mothering gap. It may be an aunt who becomes a mother, a grandmother who returns to raise a child, or a woman who did not plan for a child but refuses to let them fall. These women take on responsibility, make sacrifices, and enter spaces that cost them something, often without recognition.

Looking closely, we begin to see that kind of love reflects the very nature of God. God does not remain distant from us. Instead, God crosses over, and we see this most clearly in Jesus Christ. In Jesus, God steps out of heaven and into the reality of human life. He does not stand above it or remain separate from it; He enters fully into it. He walks dusty roads, sits at ordinary tables, weeps at gravesides, and listens to those whom others have dismissed. He steps into our grief, our confusion, and our brokenness, refusing to remain on the outside. Rather than rushing us out of those places, He sits with us in them. This is what it means for God to cross over. God does not watch from a distance but comes close, remains present, and assures us, “I am here with you,” even when life feels uncertain and unfinished.

When we sit with this, we begin to see that we are invited to consider what this kind of love means for us today. It calls us to move beyond loving only what is easy or familiar. Instead, it asks us to reflect on whose world we have never entered and whose burdens we have not taken the time to understand. It challenges us to notice those who are standing alone on the other side of a line we have never had to cross. The question becomes not how we can fix or control the situation, but whether we are willing to step toward them and say, “I am walking with you.”

This kind of love has the power to change people, to reshape families, and to influence futures in ways we may never fully see. At the same time, it changes us. It stretches us beyond our comfort and invites us into a deeper reflection of God’s own love.

Pray with me: God who crosses over, thank You for those who stepped into our lives and chose to stay. Help us to love with that same courage, to show up for others, and to reflect Your presence wherever we go. Amen.

Written by Rev. Kay Dubuisson