Ethan’s Mom: This summer, I was contacted by the leader of our BSF chapter after being recommended for consideration as a group leader for this year’s study. For those unfamiliar with BSF (Bible Study Fellowship), it is a worldwide interdenominational Bible study that follows a specific format in all of its local chapters. Members interact with scripture in 4 ways each week — personally answering questions regarding a scripture passage, discussing their answers in a small group, listening to a lecture from the local teaching leader, and reading notes on the passage published by BSF. The study usually concentrates on a single book of the Bible over the course of a school year. I started BSF in 2016, and my first study was on the book of John. I could write a whole separate blog post on the ways I have seen and heard God work in my life through the blessing of BSF over the past 3 years. If you have read any other blog posts, you have heard us mention it before. I truly love BSF, and in many ways, attending small group and lecture has been easier for my broken heart than church services on Sunday morning.

But nowhere in the world is totally safe for a mother who has lost a baby. A sight, sound, or comment can bring me right back to the trauma resulting from Ethan’s death or the twins birth in a heartbeat. (Case in point — even typing the phrase, “in a heartbeat” carries such painful connotations for me, and I tried for a minute to come up with another phrase.) This is also true of BSF. Our class has many wonderful older or middle aged women in attendance and leadership, but a significant proportion of class members are young mothers who come and bring their infants and preschool children, who attend an excellent children’s program while the ladies are in group and lecture. After losing a baby, it can be very painful to see and/or interact with pregnant women or those with babies. Sometimes the things “normal people” express anxiety over or complain about seem so trivial in the shadow of the tragedy we’ve experienced. I see those moms that bring twins to class and think how I should be able to chat with them about the unique struggles of raising multiples, but I’m not technically doing that. I admit that it is difficult not to resent that those moms got to keep both of their babies.

Because of this, I prayed and discussed my concerns with Ethan’s dad before committing to lead a small discussion group. I felt like this was something that God wanted me to do, and truthfully, I was very excited about being involved with the leadership team and attending their weekly meetings in addition to our class meetings.

Then I received my class list. 13 young moms, 11 who had registered babies or preschoolers in the children’s program. When I called to introduce myself, I found out at least 3 will be bringing infants to group with them. In my mind, I started picturing these cute, stylish young moms with their perfectly delightful babies and toddlers in tow while I bring two boys and the shadow of someone missing.  These moms don’t need me and my messy theology.

The next day I attended the BSF Summit leader training simulcast with the other area classes. The day was filled with prayer and teaching, and at the very end, they showed a video. I admit, when it started, I wrote it off as cheesy BSF propaganda. The video was a dramatization of Audrey Wetherell Johnson founding BSF in the 1950s. Ms. Johnson had been a missionary to China, even suffering as a prisoner in a Chinese concentration camp during WWII. The video shows her in the camp, sick and cold, explaining to a fellow prisoner that all she wants is for people to love the book in her hands (the Bible) as much as she does. Then it flashed forward to a speech she gave to a ladies mission society after she had returned to California. She frets about what to wear, noting that she didn’t have to worry about being stylish when she was teaching pagans. After the lecture, five women ask her to lead them in a Bible study.  She returns home and complains to a friend that these women didn’t need her, they already knew the Bible. However, her attitude and demeanor betrayed her heart — she didn’t think those California housewives really needed her when so many others had “real” problems. “Why am I to give more to those who have so much?” she asks. The answer comes in a flashback to the concentration camp — a Chinese woman says, “I thought all you wanted was for people to love that book.” So she says yes, still unsure why the setting of her story changed from prison to the suburbs.

But God had a bigger plan. He grew the small Bible study into a worldwide movement that now has over 350,000 class members in more than 40 countries, including her beloved China. She couldn’t see the outcome in her lifetime, but God was faithful to honor her heart’s desire for the Chinese people as a result of her obedience.

My heart’s desire is for Ethan to be remembered, valued as a person and part of our family, and used in God’s kingdom, just as I pray that my living children will be. I don’t see how sharing him with people “who have so much” accomplishes that, but maybe I won’t know in my lifetime. Maybe God will use Ethan in ways that no one could even imagine today.

As He tends to do with important things, God brought this point home again soon after the summit. My mother-in-law gave me a wonderful book, “Perfectly Human: Nine Months with Cerian” by Sarah C. Williams, a professor at Oxford. The author’s daughter, Cerian, received a life limiting diagnosis of skeletal dyspepsia at a 20-week ultrasound. Near the end of the book, Sarah describes an eye-opening moment after Cerian’s loss at a lecture on “the gift of self” given by a Catholic theologian. She had intentionally avoided inviting a colleague who had earlier insisted that not terminating the pregnancy was irresponsible and questioned if her husband was pressuring her to give up her “right to choose.” Sarah runs into the woman on the way to the lecture, and she decides to come along. The lecture sparks an intimate moment between the two women, in which Sarah realizes the reason her colleague no longer believes in God. She goes on to say:

“I realize looking back that I was in danger at that time of getting locked in my own sorrow and grief and cutting myself off from other people. My colleague showed me something important, and her friendship drew me out of myself. Everyone hurts. We all hit the boundaries of our capacity at some time or another.”

Honestly, it can be tempting to cut myself off from other people. Many times it actually feels like I was cut off from people through no choice of my own. Grief is incredibly isolating.  People have avoided us and made ridiculous small talk to avoid mentioning anything about Ethan’s death. I have found this to be true of acquaintances as well as close friends. But I know that refusing to acknowledge the joy or even the pain in others’ lives is no way to live. It is hard not to play the my-pain-is-bigger-than-yours game, but who wins?

I was starting to feel pretty good about all of this when I found out through a seemingly random chain of events that one of my original group members had twins. I asked the leadership team for details, saying that sometimes twins are hard and I would do better if I was prepared. Turns out, this lady has twin boys almost the exact same age as mine. I had to grab onto the counter to steady myself when I received the message. This was my biggest fear – that someone in my group would have twins, 2 year old boy twins at that! The leaders offered immediately to change her to another group without anyone knowing why, so all that was resolved before I talked to her. After the initial rush of emotions that brought up, I realized that God brought that to our attention prior to class time because it was beyond what I can handle at this point. “A bruised reed he will not break” (Isaiah 42:3).  I am pretty sure that would have broken me.

This whole roller coaster was leading up to this week, when our actual first BSF group Tuesday. My mental pictures weren’t too far off, actually. I’m sure they all graduated high school after Y2K and have never heard the distinctive sound of a dial up modem. I felt so old!

It was awkward to introduce myself as the mother of 5. One other woman has a child in kindergarten this year, the rest have kids 2 and under. Two women had babies with them. Two are pregnant, and both are also the mothers of toddlers so the statement was made that they would just be lining everyone up for diaper changes. Before I knew it, I commented that it wasn’t terribly long ago we had three in diapers. Adding in my head, “but that only lasted two months and then we had to donate the stockpile of size 1 diapers.”

So I came home again feeling the weight of balancing being honest and real vs. sharing too much with these women. I’m sure they don’t want to hear about a baby dying of SIDS; it just hits too close to home. I thought I had softened my heart towards them and was ready to be a shepherd to this group, but I didn’t feel very shepherd-y later that afternoon.

I couldn’t seem to pull myself out of the funk. People asked how it went — OK, not great but OK. It was a comfort to pull out the familiar format of notes and questions to start on at home, just like always. Then I read this in the very last paragraph of notes:

Ask God to grip your heart with the truth that He is fully in control and fully good. When trials come, remain in God’s Word and with God’s people. Ask Jesus to draw you close to Him and turn you outwards to others. How might your “prison” be part of Gods plan to make Jesus known and loved to the ends of the earth?

The prison reference is in regard to Paul, but it stopped me in my tracks. One of the comments I made several times in the early days of overwhelming grief was “I feel like I have been given a life sentence in prison for a crime I didn’t commit.” The rest of my life stretched out in front of me like an endless march of identical dark days. There was no time off for good behavior. There was no hope of freedom.

Knowing that, read the quote again. It starts with that tricky tension in reconciling God’s goodness with his sovereignty, a persistent theme in our blog posts. I knew the part about staying in God’s Word; that is what I thought the structure and in-depth study of BSF brought to me. I hadn’t considered that BSF is also a way to remain with God’s people. My experience may indeed feel like a prison, but prisons didn’t stop Paul from shepherding his fledgling churches. The only way I can proceed to turn outwards to others is with God’s provision, one day at a time. That is a recurrent theme as we walk in the Shadowlands, but provisional grace is a lot easier to write about than to trust. So I will leave us with this song/prayer for tonight:

“Give us faith to be strong
Father, we are so weak
Our bodies are fragile and weary
As we stagger and stumble to walk where you lead
Give us faith to be strong
Give us faith to be strong
Give us strength to be faithful
This life is not long, but it’s hard
Give us grace to go on
Make us willing and able
Lord, give us faith to be strong

“Give us peace when we’re torn
Mend us up when we break
This flesh can be wounded and shaking
When there’s much too much trouble for one heart to take
Give us peace when we’re torn
Give us faith to be strong
Give us strength to be faithful
This life is not long, but it’s hard
Give us grace to go on
Make us willing and able
Lord, give us faith to be strong

“Give us hearts to find hope
Father, we cannot see
How the sorrow we feel can bring freedom
And as hard as we try, Lord, it’s hard to believe
So, give us hearts to find hope
Give us faith to be strong
Give us strength to be faithful
This life is not long, but it’s hard
Give us grace to go on
Make us willing and able
Lord, give us faith to be strong
Give us peace when we’re torn
Give us faith, faith to be strong”

Faith to Be Strong by Andrew Peterson