Come Follow Me & Family History: Ruth; 1 Samuel 1-7

Life does not always go according to our plan. Sometimes we experience loss, disappointment, loneliness, unanswered prayers, or seasons where we feel empty. Naomi, Ruth, and Hannah understood these feelings. While Naomi and Ruth were empty due to loss, Hannah felt empty due to unfulfilled desire. 

However, their stories did not end in emptiness. 

As we read their stories, we see a pattern repeated throughout scripture and throughout our own family histories: the Lord sees His children in their struggles and fills what feels empty in His own time and way. One way we can help future generations know the Lord is by recording those experiences.

In my freezer sits a one-pound roll of stew mix. It has stayed with us through eight years and two moves. To most people it would seem insignificant, but to me it is a reminder of how the Lord filled my family during a season of emptiness—both literally and spiritually.

Our first winter in Utah was rough. My husband was self-employed, and we were riding the feast-or-famine wave that often comes with running a business. This season of famine, however, seemed to last much longer than we could bear.

After draining our bank account and accepting money from family for food and petrol, I began to feel like a burden. We had exhausted every option we could think of and were left with one difficult choice: to humbly and reluctantly ask our bishop for help.

In a moment of heartache, I poured out my soul to the Lord. I truly did not know how much more I could take. Then came a feeling of peace and a quiet reassurance from the Spirit: hold on a little longer; it is almost over.

A few days later, I found myself sitting in a small room at the church building across from the Relief Society president. She was helping me fill out a food order that would provide enough groceries for the next two weeks. As we talked, every negative thought I could think about myself seemed to flood my mind. I felt like a failure. I felt embarrassed. I felt small. At one point, the Relief Society president gently reminded me that many people in the ward were struggling. Our need happened to be food, but others were facing heartache, divorce, illness, mental health challenges, wayward children, job loss, and countless other burdens. Her words softened my heart. For the first time, I realized that needing help did not make me less worthy of God's love. The Lord was aware of our family, just as He was aware of every family carrying a burden.

A couple of weeks later, Aaron was paid again, and life slowly began to stabilize. The food was eventually eaten, except for one thing: a roll of stew mix that I simply cannot bring myself to throw away.

That small package has become a sacred reminder of the Lord's goodness. Whenever I see it, I remember that when we felt empty, the Lord, in his goodness, provided a way. He filled not only our refrigerator, but also our hearts. During one of the most exhausting and humbling seasons of our lives, He reminded me that He had not forgotten us.

Naomi felt empty after losing her husband and sons. Hannah felt empty as she waited year after year for a child. Samuel erected an Ebenezer stone to remember how the Lord had helped Israel through a difficult season. While our struggles may look different, the same God who sustained Naomi, Hannah, and Samuel is aware of us today.

As I have studied the records of my ancestors and reflected on this idea of the Lord moving us from empty to full, I often think about my great-great-grandfather, Charles Killick.

In 1871, Charles appeared on a census record as a two-year-old boy living with his father, Thomas; his mother, Mary Ann; his older brother, William; and his baby sister, Ellen. At first glance, it seems like an ordinary family. But within ten everything had changed. According to the 1881 census, Mary Ann was living in a mental asylum, where she would remain until her death nearly thirty years later. While Charles and his sister Ellen were living in a workhouse. I have not been able to uncover what happened to his father or older brother. These were not ideal circumstances for a young child. Conditions in Victorian workhouses were often harsh. Food was limited, labor was demanding, education was minimal, and children frequently slept in large dormitories with many others. I cannot imagine how empty Charles must have felt during those years.

Yet the Lord was in his story.

In time, Charles left the workhouse and found employment as a tram driver. On 30 July 1893, he married Amy Woodhouse. Together they built a family of their own. They welcomed three children: Ellen, named after his sister; Charles William, likely named after his brother; and several years later, Ernest Leslie.

I do not have a journal from Charles or stories that were passed down. I do not believe he spoke about his time much about his time in the workhouse. But the records tell me enough. They tell me that he endured. They tell me that he kept moving forward. They tell me that the emptiness of his childhood was not the end of his story. Charles went on to build a life, raise a family, and leave a legacy. His posterity—including me—has been abundantly blessed because he continued through one of the most difficult chapters of his life.

When I look at Charles's story, I am reminded that fullness often comes after seasons of emptiness. Sometimes we see that pattern in our own lives. Sometimes we see it in the lives of our ancestors. Either way, the lesson is the same: the Lord is aware of His children, and He is not finished writing their story. In many ways, I am living proof that the blessings of fullness can extend across generations.

Family history is not simply about preserving names, dates, and places. It is about preserving evidence of God's hand in the lives of His children. It is about recording the moments when He provided strength, comfort, guidance, hope, or daily bread when we needed it most.

One day, our children and grandchildren may face their own seasons of emptiness. What if the story they need is yours? What if they need to know how the Lord carried your family through financial hardship, illness, grief, uncertainty, or unanswered prayers? The stories we preserve today may become the very stories that help future generations come to know the Lord. So write it down. Record the miracle. Preserve the memory. Share the story. Because when we remember how the Lord filled what was empty, future generations can learn to trust Him too. 

Activity: The Lord Filled What Was Empty

In jar #1 (empty) write or draw a time when you felt empty. This could include a time when you felt scared, lonely, discouraged, worried, uncertain, or in need of help. 

Then, use jar #2 (full) to write or draw how the Lord helped you through that experience. This could include feelings of peace, strength, guidance, comfort, a friend, work, food, or an answer to prayer. 

If you want to take it a step further: you could also ask a parent, grandparent, or older family member to share about a time when the Lord helped their family (or an ancestor_ through a difficult situation? Write down the story or record it on your phone.

click on the image to download your free printable. 

image of ruth and Jesus Christ were downloads from churchofjesuschrist.org