In my last blog post, I shared some about the beginning of my experience as a BSF discussion group leader. We are now almost 3 months into our class, and I have 14 ladies in my group, 6 of whom are currently pregnant. One is an unexpected 4th pregnancy, just like my twins, and that has brought up a lot of emotions. Leadership has been challenging in ways I expected and in ways I didn’t. It has been a blessing in ways I expected and in ways I didn’t as well.

As with my other 3 years of BSF, God seems to be zeroing in on the lessons I need in this stage of my journey through the shadowlands; however, that doesn’t mean that those lessons are easy to receive.

It’s been a tough few weeks here in my head and heart heading into the holiday season. In BSF, we have been talking a lot about suffering as we went from discussing Peter’s miraculous jail break in Acts 12 to his writings in 1 Peter. Suffering is a tricky topic for me. On the one hand it is really hard to fight the tendency to judge others’ stories of suffering against mine. On the other hand, I don’t want to really face the depths of my own suffering; the grief is still sometimes so raw.

The week we talked about the jailbreak was hard because it prompted a discussion about why James was executed by King Herod while Peter was miraculously delivered from danger the night before his show trial. Well, those sorts of questions are really tough for anyone to face head on, I think. When you can identify with James instead of Peter, it gets even harder. Both were “top 3” disciples; both were being prayed for by the church. Why the huge disparity in their stories? And why was James a little blip in the chapter that goes into such details about Peter’s rescue? He almost seems like an afterthought.

There is a family we know whose little girl was almost born while her mom was one of many, many people snowed in at work during a bad storm almost six years ago. But she wasn’t; Ethan and his brother were the ones born in an ambulance on the frozen highway. This little girl was diagnosed with a heart defect that was similar to Ethan’s. In fact, the day we found out about his VSD, her mom was one of the first non-family members I called, looking for advice and encouragement, knowing that she had a successful open heart surgery the summer before. After Ethan died, it was excruciating to see this preschooler living a normal life, starting kindergarten, even getting discharged from cardiology follow up visits. My son didn’t live long enough to have surgery to fix his heart. This is insane to admit, but I would find myself being jealous that Ethan didn’t “get to” have open heart surgery, like it was a prize that he didn’t win. Even though the heart defect was not the primary cause of death, it is still hard to think about all the prayers that were answered for her but not Ethan. It has gotten easier over the past two years, but I still have moments of secret bitterness towards this innocent little girl. That’s just one example. Every time I hear or read “God is so good!” in response to someone’s physical healing, I just cringe. Why wasn’t he good to my baby, too?

The next week’s lesson was from 1 Peter, and it was still hard but more hopeful. The lecture that week had several points that really resonated with me, but I want to focus on the section concerning “New life in Jesus shifts a believer’s focus to HOPE.”

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that is incorruptible and undefiled and unfading, reserved in heaven for us who through faith are guarded by the power of God for salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time.” (1 Peter 1:3–5)

Our BSF teaching leader said that in suffering, God can “develop and refine our faith, loosening our grip on this world and leading us to trust the unseen reality of God Himself.” Nothing has loosened my grip on this world more than my child leaving it.

When Ethan’s dad leaves for his BSF group on Monday nights, the kids are usually still finishing up dinner. They have this game that has developed over time. Everyone tries to be the first to yell, “Catch you on the flip side!” when he comes in the kitchen to say goodbye. Whoever is beaten to the punch yells back, “No, no – catch YOU on the flip side!” They continue this back and forth for a few minutes, then Ethan’s dad will yell “Catchyouontheflipside” really fast and duck out of the kitchen.

This always makes me smile but the other day it occurred to me how profound this little game really is. They shift their focus from leaving to the hope of their reunion, and that makes all the difference in their parting.

My favorite quote from the lecture was “Eternal realities stabilize us and sustain us in daily realities.” I might consider getting it tattooed on my arm. If there is any other way to make it through the daily realities of traumatic bereavement, I surely don’t know of it.

I will never get a handprint turkey, never see Ethan in his preschool Thanksgiving program. Instead of thinking about stocking stuffers for Ethan, I went to Hobby Lobby to pick out new Christmas decorations for his graveside. I am planning ways to celebrate my twin boys on their 3rd birthday at Disneyworld, despite the fact that one will not be with us at “the happiest place on earth.”

Those are just a few examples from the past week. I could go on with a whole list of big and small daily realities that have knocked me off balance or made me want to quit altogether, but a pity party is not the goal of this post. The point is that the only thing that keeps me from utter despair when facing moments like these are, in fact, eternal realities stabilizing and sustaining me.

God is good, even though I cannot always feel or comprehend this truth.

I will not have a handprint turkey, but one day I will hold his hand.

I will not celebrate Christmas with him this year, but one day we will sing together in the presence of the Savior.

Jesus has made a way for my family to be together in a place that is so much better than Disneyworld I literally cannot conceive of it. And we get to stay, together, FOREVER.

Catch you on the flip side, my sweet Ethan. Catch you on the flip side.