Ethan’s Mom: Each year, Bible Study Fellowship sets aside the last week of our class for “Share Day.” This is a week where all class members are invited to share what God has taught them over the course of the last eight months of intensive personal and small group Bible study. It provides a sense of celebration and of closure for the study. This year has been an intense one: People of the Promised Land: Kingdom Divided. This study has brought us through 15 different books of the Old Testament, as we studied the period of Israel’s history after King Solomon through the fall of Judah to the Babylonians in 587 BC.

The material was more intimidating, but the fellowship and bonding in our discussion group was the same as previous years. Saying goodbye to the group you have walked alongside since September is always difficult. This year, however, is even more of an ending than usual for me. Next year, I am going to transfer from the daytime women’s class to the nighttime women’s class. The daytime class has a program for babies and preschool children; the evening class has a program for school aged children and teenagers. Next year, I, my husband, and four big kids will all attend BSF together, in different small groups but meeting in the same host church. I am confident this is a transition that needs to be made, but goodbyes are always hard, even if they are right.

As I reflect on the ending of this study, my time with this class, and my role as a group leader, a verse from our study of Isaiah comes to mind. In Isaiah 25:1 the prophet says, “LORD, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done wonderful things, things planned long ago.” This post is my way of exalting God as I reflect and process through the ending of this study, my time with this BSF class, and my role as a group leader.

In a way, it is also a way of looking back and taking stock of my journey of healing this far. Saying goodbye to my BSF class feels very weighty because so much of my story as Ethan’s mom is all tangled up with my experience with BSF. I attended an orientation class in April 2016 to register myself, a 3 year old, and a 1 year old for the next year’s study. When I returned to the host church in August 2016, I brought my 3 year old, 1 year old, and a surprise set of twins in utero. BSF was one of the places I carried Ethan during our short time together.

The study in 2016-2017 was the book of John, and my group leader was Laurie. Our small group met in the Media Room of the church, surrounded by giant rolls of paper and baskets of craft supplies. After discussing the lesson, we would move to the sanctuary to hear the teaching leader’s lecture. That very first lecture included encouragement to remain faithful to studying God’s Word even when it didn’t make sense or left you with unanswered questions. Just act on what you do know and keep going. Those words have come back to me several times since that first lecture.

Studying John was a gift. The gospel of John has some distinctions from the three synoptic gospels, including the seven “I am” statements. That fall, I got to know Jesus in a deeper and more personal way by studying this particular book using the four step method of BSF. In the coming spring, I would need to draw on that knowledge more than I could have ever anticipated. I needed to know who He was in order to face the future that held unspeakable tragedy.

My group was also a blessing to me from day one. I was very nervous about the twins being born very prematurely, as I had issues with premature labor with all three preceding pregnancies. Laurie told me she was going to pray that the babies would make it to 36 weeks. I thought that was pretty optimistic but appreciated the sentiment. Just after the New Year, my boys were born at 36 weeks.

Two months later, Laurie and a couple of others showed up at our house with a huge basket of toys for the kids and gift cards to all manner of kid-friendly takeout or drive-through restaurants. I was so touched that they would see the kids’ needs as well as mine. Some ladies joined our meal train. Laurie watched #4 so that Ethan’s dad and I could visit the cemetery alone. One of the group members even took me out for a massage that summer, knowing from personal experience that grief is surprisingly physical in its manifestation.

Remember the teaching leader’s encouragement to just keep at it, even when you don’t understand? I returned to class much sooner than I think people expected. Just do what you know to do — well, by then what I knew and found value in was doing my lesson and attending class every Tuesday. The first week, our group was combined with another group due to Laurie being out. After the other ladies headed down to lecture, my group members circled up and prayed for me. I mean they prayed FOR me — I couldn’t even say “Dear God” much less speak any sort of coherent prayer, and they stepped in to offer prayers that I literally could not pray but wanted so badly to say.

The next week, our Scripture reading included the passage about Jesus’ burial. One of the questions was, “why do you think it was important that Jesus was buried?” I surprised myself by sharing my answer. “As a person who has recently spent a lot of time at a graveside, it is very important to me that he was buried.” As strange as it sounds, studying that passage of Jesus’ burial was the most meaningful thing I could have read soon after burying my son. I’m sure we went on to have meaningful discussions about the resurrection, but what stands out to me is that week we talked about how Jesus’ friends cared for his body and mourned the loss of his life.

The next study was Romans, from the fall of 2017 to the spring of 2018. To be honest, this is the year that is the fuzziest in my mind. I think that makes sense, as most of my physical, emotional, and spiritual energy was spent on survival. However, I think the gift of this study was a systematic, rational review of some of the basic doctrines of my faith. When I was questioning everything I thought I knew about God, I worked through a structured study of the New Testament’s longest book on Christian theology. It addressed my questions on a macro-level (Why do we deserve death? What is God’s plan for us?) so that I could begin to process through them on a micro-level (Why did this happen to my child? What is God’s plan for him? For me?).

In 2018-2019, I completed my first Old Testament study with BSF. This study was known at the time as People of the Promised Land I, and it covered the period from when Joshua led the people through the Jordan River to the Promised Land through the reign of King Solomon. This coincided with my experience at the inCompete Retreat, which I have referred to often on this blog because it was a definite turning point for me. I remember working on my BSF lesson while at the retreat, and it was about Joshua placing his foot on the neck of his enemies foreshadowing Jesus’ ultimate victory over death. God had promised the Israelites victory and possession of the Promised Land; however, they still had to fight the battle. That was analogous to my stage of healing — God had promised to bind up my wounds, but I had to participate in the healing process. God had promised to be with me in the battle to overcome the effects of trauma in my body, mind, and spirit, but I needed to start “doing the work.”

Part of that work was re-engaging with people and pushing back out of my comfort zone, which had shrunk substantially after Ethan died. So when I was asked to take on a leadership role in the next year’s study, I agreed with a good deal of hesitation. By this time, I was completely sold on the format and method of BSF and was really looking forward to facilitating a group discussion and participating in the weekly leaders’ meetings. I knew I wanted our group to be a safe place to share, but I didn’t know how much personally I should share about Ethan in a group of young mothers. That actually has been a concern each year I have served as a leader, but the first year was the most intimidating. This post details the circumstances surrounding the beginning of the year, and I found God to be faithful in equipping me to minister from within my “prison” throughout the entire year. I discovered that I really enjoyed being a GL and that, with God’s help, I actually did a pretty good job in that position.

The spring we studied Acts was the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. After evaluating all the risks and necessary precautions, our BSF class went virtual for the 2020-2021 study of Genesis. My group that year was surprisingly close, given that we never met each other in person until the last day of class when I hosted a lunch to celebrate the end of the year. I remember telling one girl, “Wow! I had no idea you were so tall!” It’s hard to gauge height while people are in a tiny square on your computer. This was one of two years when I really felt like my experiences with grief and loss were directly helpful to some of my group members. Genesis was an interesting study, and I really learned a lot from my group members and their perspectives. As an example of my many “light bulb moments” was the realization that I had always read Genesis 3:13 with a punitive tone in God’s voice, like I sound when I discover permanent marker on my freshly painted living room walls. But during the discussion, one member said, “What is this you have done?” with hurt, not anger, in her voice. Since then, I have tried to be aware of the tone of voice I hear when I read Scripture, trying out different emotions as I read tricky passages to see what fits into the immediate context and what we know about God’s character. Throughout the year, we persevered through technical difficulties and toddler photobombers, and I saw God answer some big prayers and use his people to encourage each other in profound ways.

For our Matthew study in 2021-2022, we were back in person and back in the New Testament. If studying John grew my love for Jesus, studying Matthew grew my respect for him. Jesus was truly an amazing teacher; he always had the right words, illustrations, and posture in dealings with a wide range of people. Several lessons helped me wrestle with some hurtful events at my church — allowing me to see the sin in my heart that has played a role and reminders that deepest needs are met by Jesus even when his followers get it wrong.

Another overarching theme was the upside-down kingdom of God. My group experienced this reality in a tangible and unforgettable way. Just before our first class, the substitute teaching leader let me know that one of my group members had received the results of prenatal testing that morning and was carrying a baby with Down syndrome. Walking through this study while she was absorbing this reality and preparing for her baby’s arrival was a high privilege. And even as this friend was wrestling through some difficult feelings, she encouraged me that my story, Ethan’s story, mattered. My group even brought me a hydrangea to class on March 1st, which fell on a Tuesday. It is planted in our Ethan garden at home.

Ten days later, this precious baby entered the world at 12:01 a.m. on March 10th. That was too much of a coincidence to not mean something, but it was a lot to process, especially when she ended up with the same heart defect as well. Her birthday is a sign to me that God will one day fully redeem that day, and her story of healing reminds me that God will fully heal all his children in due time. Through BSF and our study of Matthew, Baby E. and Ethan’s lives will be intertwined with each other in God’s beautiful story of redemption until His Kingdom comes in full.

I will go into details about this year in a second post, as this entry is already too long and I need space to work through some complex thoughts related to the Kingdom Divided. Spoiler alert: I am going to revisit a recurring theme on this blog and dive into a paradox. For now, I want to conclude this post by stepping back to take a view over the whole landscape of the past seven years.

I am amazed by all that I have learned and experienced through BSF since 2016. Not to mention what a blessing it has been to my children, which would be a whole other post. It hasn’t always been easy. Sometimes a comment during a discussion was hurtful, sometimes people’s personalities clashed, and sometimes the topic for the week seemed like really bad timing. I have been forced to look straight into the face of my grief more times than I can count, whether at home completing my lesson, in the group discussion, or in lecture. But just like setting a broken bone, pain is part of the healing, too.

God has used it all in his relentless pursuit of my heart — both my idolatrous, selfish, sinful heart and my wounded, doubting, grieving heart. Just like the people of Israel, I am tempted to forget God’s past faithfulness, both because of my sin and my loss. But Love did not let me go. He prepared for me to encounter His Word and His people through my local BSF Day Women’s Class during this portion of my journey in the Shadowlands, and I will forever be grateful.

O Love that Wilt Not Let Me Go

O Love that will not let me go,

I rest my weary soul in thee.

I give thee back the life I owe,

that in thine ocean depths its flow

may richer, fuller be.

O Light that follows all my way,

I yield my flick’ring torch to thee.

My heart restores its borrowed ray,

that in thy sunshine’s blaze its day

may brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,

I cannot close my heart to thee.

I trace the rainbow through the rain,

and feel the promise is not vain,

that morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,

I dare not ask to fly from thee.

I lay in dust, life’s glory dead,

and from the ground there blossoms red,

life that shall endless be.

George Matheson