Last Wednesday was "Share Day" at BSF (Bible Study Fellowship). Share Day is the last class day of the year, when we stay in the sanctuary with the big group, for the whole two hours, as opposed to breaking into our discussion groups and then returning for lecture. They pass a microphone to anyone willing to stand up and share (for about two-three minutes) how the Lord has worked in their life over the duration of this years study. Sometimes it has to do with the children who attend, so for an added blessing, the Children's Leaders are present as well - which means no Children's classes for that last day, and the boys stayed home with Alan.
I have to admit, I've always had a hard time with Share Day. In a room full of women of all ages, backgrounds, experience, knowledge, at every stage of life, it gets a bit sticky. It is always difficult when you have women who've experienced death and severe pain on one end, then others birth, some marriage, others divorce, cancer, abuse, then the rare few that have, upon attending BSF, accepted Christ. Anyway, on some level we are all related, others, quite different.
That being said, last week I stood up to speak for the first time on a BSF Share Day. I wanted to share a tiny bit of the huge blessing it has been to attend with the boys. It was not necessarily that I wanted to tell the other women about how God worked on me through my boys, but more that I needed to say it out loud. I needed to allow the overwhelming gratitude and God-given joy inside overflow a bit. Did I accomplish that in the three minute time period, while attempting to manage the happy-tears that always accompany speaking of God's blessing and working in our boys... I don't know... maybe, maybe not.
So, for my own records, I'm going to write down what I would have said, if hundreds of eyes weren't watching me, if I didn't get emotional, and wasn't confined to three minutes. Three minutes. Three minutes to express such enormous thoughts. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the time constraints in such a set up, but I'm quite certain that every women that spoke that day could have easily filled an hour with all of their reports and praise.
I believe the very first study I did was the book of Matthew. Over the next twelve years I barely missed a BSF class, once a week, twice a week for a few years. The design of the study and classes speaks directly to me, a little less social, a lot more educational and personal. I was only ever able to go to the night women's classes, where women who have children 6-17 can bring them along... never the younglings, who probably stayed home with Daddies. When we moved up here, we were able to attend the daytime class in Round Rock and finally my boys were able to come too. Aaron was set, at three and a half, he was old enough to understand what was happening and that I'd be back in a couple of hours, after I went to my class. Adam however, was only a year and a half old and very much still my big baby. That first day I was a wreck (read about my anxiety here). Dropping Adam off with virtual strangers for the first time, not knowing how he would do, or me for that matter. He cried, I cried, I felt horrible. But at the same time I was so excited for the opportunity to take them to a BSF class. I've seen what these classes do with children and it is truly amazing the knowledge they soak up in those younger years, so although I tried to keep that in the forefront of my mind... I failed. The next week was easier, and the week after easier still. It wasn't until Adam stopped crying at drop off, sometime around the Christmas break, that I knew we were out of the woods. By the end of the year Adam was administering hugs and blowing kisses to his leaders, he knew the words to a few of the songs, and seemed genuinely excited about going to class.
Aaron bound out of his classroom every week at 11am fighting for breath he had so much to tell me. What he'd learned, about the "story" (scripture language suitable for kids), the toys he played with, the songs they sang, the playground, who threw dirt, the snack, and how he got grass in his hair. He loved it and I thanked God every week for his excitement and the foundation that was being laid. It made reading stories and teaching at home much smoother. He asks questions and understands things that I didn't know until middle school. And perhaps the most touching thing of all was him frequently adding his leaders to our nighttime prayer.
I was taught to trust other people with my boys and that God's idea of how we should spend Wednesday mornings have less to do with me being anxiety-stricken and full of doubt and more to do with setting up the first layer of foundation in these boys of ours to know God and His word! Over the past twelve years I have learned and developed so much and although I've begun to repeat studies, I am always at a different stage in my life, in our marriage, and then throw in parenthood as a teaching/faith lesson. It was such a blessing to experience the joy in discovery all over again through the boys eyes. It will be fun to do it again next year.
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| A photo of BSF Headquarters in San Antonio (that I swiped off their webpage). |
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