7 Days Before Christmas

Christmas is such a time of reflection for me. I think of the years I loathed Christmas. I was broken-hearted, sad, and for a few of them mired in the black hole of depression. But mostly, I was just disappointed in my life. The season reminded me that I was once again in a place of unrealized dreams and I would spend one Holiday Season hoping that the next one would prove better.

I remember those that are no longer with us. Last year, my childhood friend, Nicky died two days after his 62nd birthday, less than one week before Christmas. The man that taught me more than he could know and would take no credit for. He spoke into my life that being encouraging to others was the greatest of the spiritual gifts. I believe that with all that I have. 

It has proven a trying year in many aspects and I can't tell you how many occasions I wished I could have reached out and talked with Nicky about what was happening. To hear his wise counsel summed up in a few words after he listened carefully to what I had to say. 

Even last night, when I mentioned to my wife, Julie, that it was Nicky's birthday, I began to cry. I told her his death continues to hit me harder than I thought possible. 

Do you know what my wise wife said to that? She said, "How blessed are you to have a friend that you still are mourning so deeply over." Her point was everyone does not have even one person in their life like that. And I am blessed to share other close friendships with people who are still with us. As usual, my wife is right.

Last weekend, Teke, our Australian Cattle Dog and I were walking in the woods at a nearby park. It is a special daily time together. But it is also a time of devotion and has become my best prayer place. 

As I thought about Christmas past and the times of sadness and disappointment, I began to thank God for rescuing me. Has the year been trying? Sure it has. It probably has been for most of us. But, I love Christmas again. It is no longer a time of disappointment. I have so much to be grateful for. My wife loves me. She believes I am far better than I can see. She believes in me when I don't. Yesterday, when I unexpectantly stopped by Julie's workplace-she was sitting in her car eating lunch and when she spotted me, she got out of her car and ran to hug me with this huge beautiful grin etched upon her face. How priceless is that?

I was grateful for the wonderful dog that was glad to be in the woods with me. For my wonderful son, Micah, who will arrive Christmas Day and make our immediate family complete and the close friends I have that are a phone call away if I need anything. 

But I am most appreciative of a Savior, who never left my side, despite my decades of anger towards Him. I have cursed Him in more ways than I can recall. He was just waiting for that moment when I said, "Okay, Jesus, You take the wheel. I will go where you say go. Even if it is not what I want." At the time, I thought that meant my two biggest and longest dreams were possibly being relinquished. No, He granted both in less than two years. 

I will not pretend to know how a relationship with God works for you. But for me, I knew He was waiting for the day I truly placed Him first. Now, do I fail at times in that endeavor? Absolutely, I do, but I return quickly to where I want to be. The best example I can think of is that I would love for my writing to lead to a real career. But I don't want any success or financial gain from it unless He is on board. I won't enjoy it otherwise. Believe me, that is a dramatic shift for the man in the mirror of almost nine years ago. 

As I walked in the woods, reflecting upon all of this and thanking God for the happiness in my life, I began to cry with tears of gratitude. From all the broken pieces, He put me back together. 

While I am most grateful I never want to forget how shattered my life once was. It is probably because of this that my heart is for the broken. Sometimes, I think our churches could do better at trying to encourage the broken, especially during the Holiday Season. Maybe instead of being concerned with putting on the best Christmas service-complete with the music and candlelight, the greater emphasis could be reaching out to those that are hurting. Some of those people may be walking through those church doors for the only time all year. Maybe they need to be offered prayer and encouragement more than a well planned Christmas Service.  But then, I know I could do more to help as well.   

It is easy for people to feel forgotten at Christmas. Even forgotten by God. They may feel this way even if they are surrounded by family. 

In the hustle and bustle of the next week and during your Christmas Eve service at church. Let's keep an eye out for those that have the defeated look of life in their eyes. Offer a word of conversation. Let them know you have time to listen to them. Family and dinner plans can wait.

What could be more important than encouraging a broken person? 

I know what my friend, Nicky would say.

Nothing...

THE PEACE OF AN ATHEIST 

(Monthly column for Pandora's Box Gazette)

Faith & Religion

Sunday Inspiration: The Peace of an Atheist

May 13, 2018

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Billy Beasley

The Peace of an Atheist

By Billy Beasley

The year before I was offered a contract to publish The Preacher’s Letter, there was another publisher that was seriously considering publishing my story. During the process they expressed concern over my lack of social media. I have a decent following on my Facebook Author Page so I knew they were speaking of Twitter, which I really did not want to do. But with a possible publishing contract on the line I joined the masses.

On a given day if I tweet anything there are but a few viewers. But one day I made one simple tweet in response to an atheist trend. I believe it was something along the lines of, “me thinks thou does protest too much.” Suddenly my viewership grew dramatically. Of course the replies were not very favorable.

Why does it disturb atheists so much if you and I believe in God? If we believe that Jesus Christ was and is the son of God? I do not get angry with people who do not believe. But they often seem to take great offense if we believe. If they enjoyed a measure of the peace that I have with Jesus Christ, why can’t they just sit back and enjoy the peace that their nonbelief brings to them?

"The resurrection of Christ is either the greatest miracle or the greatest delusion which history records." - Philip Schaff

I copied the above quote last year on social media. The lone comment was, “Agreed.” Knowing the person, I knew the intent of their sarcastic comment.

I wonder why they felt the need to respond. They are smart, accomplished, and highly successful by worldly standards. Why not just enjoy the peace and comfort that brings, leaving me to my delusions?

Because I do not believe they enjoy any peace in their belief of nonbelief. Maybe they were once wounded by religious behavior. That has turned many people off from Christianity. Perhaps if they would have dug a little deeper they might have realized that is not Christianity. Going to church does not make anyone a Christian any more than sitting in a garage makes me a car. Why be angry at God for the actions of people?

A pastor once shared with me.

“Billy, Jesus did not like hanging out with religious people.”

In fact, Jesus was criticized for spending time with people that the religious people thought should be shunned.

When Jesus heard this, he told them, "It is not those who are well who need a doctor, but those who are sick. I didn't come to call the righteous, but sinners." Mark 2:17

We all have heard the saying that there is no atheist in a fox hole. My response has often been. “Don’t tell me when the plane starts to descend rapidly and you are plunging to certain death that you are not going to cry out to God for help.”

Another social media contact used to post of how we are foolish and unwise to believe in God. Why the need to label us as fools for the Gospel of Jesus Christ? Why not just accept a difference of belief and move on with the peace you find in your unbelief?

This same person also posted pictures of grandchildren that he obviously loved dearly. An image came to my mind. Picture the following scenario.

He is walking on a trail, hand in hand with his grandchild. There is a ravine on each side that is a precipitous drop. A slip would lead to almost certain death. He stumbles and in that misstep his grandchild falls over the edge. He manages to hold on with one slipping hand grasping theirs. His grip is loosening and that child is one second away from near death and in his moment of desperation he is not going to cry out, “God help me?”

I hope you are never in that situation but if you say to me I would not cry out for God’s help. Forgive me, but I don’t believe you.

You have every right to your nonbelief just as I have every right to believe that every human being created will speculate, will wonder about God.

My knowledge originated from my Damascus Road moment in my earlier years.

Regardless of how I ran from my calling—of how I tried to escape that night. I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that God was real and for reasons I still don’t understand. He showed up one evening on a long dark road for the likes of me.

Many people did not believe me back then. Many may not today. That is okay.  I don’t feel the need to convince anyone. I was there. I know what occurred.

One of my social media friends constantly rails about religion and often in a very condescending manner to us that believe this myth of Jesus Christ.

I find it ironic that the passionate atheist acts almost religious in their belief of non-belief.

I would rather live my life believing in the hope of something and Someone waiting for me when my days are ended, than to simply exist, with no real purpose for being here, and no hope of anything beyond, disappearing like a mist that leaves no trace.

About the Author

Billy Beasley resides in Carolina Beach, NC with his wife Julie and their Australian Cattle Dog, Teke.  They are active members of Lifepoint

Church in Wilmington, NC.

Billy is the author of The River Hideaway- a traditionally published work of faith based fiction and the newly published novel, The Preacher's Letter. He shares two simple beliefs with his favorite character in this novel. Faith in God and a conviction that ‘Hearts have no color’. 

Please like his author page on Facebook. Check out his blog. Also, you can follow him on Twitter.

A Letter to my Son

It is hard to believe that my son, Micah, will turn 30 next month. Last week I had a long ago memory visit of my one goal as a parent that I often said when he was a child. It was not that he would be rich, educated, a ballplayer. I had one very simple goal that I don't think I ever shared with him until I wrote it in a card for him this week.

As an adult, will he when faced with a troublesome issue think I can talk to my Dad & he will listen? He will help me sort this out. My thinking was that if he did that than I had done okay as his Dad.

I knew even when he was little I would not be that parent with a desire to control my adult child's life. That kind of defeats the purpose. You raise a child & then you let them go, or at least that is my philosophy. You will always be their parent. Always be there for them but it is their life. Will they fail at times & make wrong choices? You bet they will but didn't we as well?

I wrote my son this week, not asking for a pat on the back but an honest answer. Did I meet my one goal? Do you think that my Dad can help with this problem? Do I listen thoroughly to you or do I start dispensing advice before you finish?

Lots of parents routinely do that with their adult children. Some are even a big part of failed marriages because their children are not wise enough to live out all of Genesis 2:24..

² For this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother, and be joined to his wife; and they shall become one flesh.

I always loved the part of the two becoming one...the intimacy. But after one particular failed relationship I realized the importance of the first part of this scripture.  There comes a time to leave your parents & forge your own way. A husband & a wife need to run their own race as a couple. Seek advice from your parents-yes. Allow them a voice in your marriage-no.

I wrote to my son that if I am failing in this regard both now & in the future, tell me. I will correct it. Life is to short & often the things allowed to remain unchallenged in a family become the very matters that construct walls that imprison families. It is difficult to break habits & often hard to see our own bad habits in how we interact with our family. Some find it easier to fashion the Norman Rockwell painting that they know did not ever exist. I never could buy into that. It is only with dealing with the truth in any relationship that we can break down the barriers & reach a better place. Pretending things are better than they are is like putting a band-aid on a deep wound.

There is another thing I wrote in that card. I want Micah to learn not only from the good things I have taught him but I want him to learn from the things I did wrong. There are many important life long lessons I have taken to heart from my Dad that were anything but positive. The things he did I knew were wrong & even as a child I swore I would not be that way with my own child when that day came. 

My Dad was a good man but he was like a lot of men in that era. They left the parenting to the Mother. But I still learned because they were still failures on his part. He could not apologize & admit to being wrong. Never once to me in my entire life. But I learned. Maybe in reverse but I learned & I am grateful. Grateful that I often said to my son, "I am sorry. I was wrong. Please forgive me." 

Micah also never went to bed at night without hearing I love you. Even to this day. Every phone call, visit,  ends often in multiple I love you's exchanged. Again I learned this in reverse from my Father & Micah it is okay that you learn in reverse from me. I failed often. I realize that. I own it.

As I have written before that my idea for The River Hideaway came from watching one of my favorite movies. A Time to Kill.

There is a wonderful exchange between the young attorney, played by Matthew McConaughey & his mentor, Donald Sutherland.

Jake Tyler Brigance: I can't be you, Lucian.

Lucien Wilbanks: Don't be me, Jake. Be better than me.

I  have thought of that line often in regards to Micah. Don't be me. Be better than me.

I love you son.

My adult son. My best man on Julie & my wedding day. 

Christmas 2016

It is that time once again that can bring us to such glorious highs & lows. Our memories that occasionally visit during the year seem to arrive at a precipice for the Holiday season. Many of those memories are bitter sweet. Last night, as I sat home waiting on my wonderful wife, Julie, with our new addition for this Christmas, Teke- I had the overwhelming desire to pick up the phone & call my Mom. She has been gone now for over three years & that is one of the things I miss most. A simple phone conversation.

Christmas has often been a very low point in my life. There was a time when I truly hated Christmas. The broken/failed relationships. The dreams that never materialized. The many failures. The many bad choices I made. The unfairness of this life. I have a story I wrote long ago that I hope a publisher says yes to one day that the main character leaves before Thanksgiving & stays in a small cabin in the mountains away from everyone until after the first of the year. I never did that but I wanted too.

I remember those days & though I am grateful today to enjoy Christmas. Julie with her childlike excitement brings so much to the season & my life-as well as family & the wonderful friends God has blessed me with. Still, I don't want to lose sight of the people who struggle mightily at this time of year just as I once did. 

We are also blessed to be part of a dynamic church. Lifepoint Church in Wilmington, NC. This weekend we have three Christmas Eve services. One on Friday night & two on Saturday afternoon. All the services are the same.  Julie will be part of the worship team. I will be serving at the booth for first time guests.

I realize that of my own wisdom, my knowledge, that I have little to offer. What I ask of God, particularly for this season is for me to be aware of the people who walk into church-maybe for the only time this year. Those that are beaten up by life. Those that are weary & want a new way. Those that are truly alone. Those that desperately need some hope..some encouragement. I ask of God to lead & help me encourage them. To be quiet & listen to their stories. We all have one.

Initially, I did not plan to serve for three services but as I thought about it--what an honor it is. To remember my struggles & hopefully help others with more than just information about our wonderful church.

It is way to easy for people to get caught up in thinking about what they have to offer. I have nothing but as my team leader, Randy, so aptly put it when I shared these feelings last week. "But we can make ourselves available." And in the process my hope is that I can do & be what our Pastor Jeff Kapusta taught earlier this month.

"My purpose is to illuminate Jesus."

Merry Christmas

Billy 

  

Writing World Update

Little Update..

Occasionally I get asked if The River Hideaway is still available & the answer is Yes. It is contracted for another two years but that may or may not be the case. The owner of the Publishing Company has been very sick & plans to be back but many things are on hold right now.

I was looking for a different publisher before this news for works that I have already completed. Many of you realize that getting traditionally published is about a 99% rejection rate. Having no name recognition makes the journey very difficult. No complaints.. That is just how it is. Knowing someone helps in any job related search. I was able to get a novel in front of a publisher that only allowed it because of a dear contact. They liked it but their finances at this time concerned them. It is a tough world for Publishers as well as authors. I appreciated their honesty.

Of course, so many people suggest self publishing & that is a good format for some people & their works, however, I would encourage any writer to research any publisher very carefully as there are a lot of shady book publishers. Some say they are traditional & the next thing you know they want $$$ from you. Be careful..Some of the self-publishing companies lure you in & the next thing you know they are charging you thousands.I certainly did not sign any great contract for The River Hideaway but I also did not fork over any of my hard-earned money to see my book in print.

I will not consider self-publishing & I mean no offense to those that have. It is just not for me.
At the end of the day this is all in God's Hands & believe it or not I am getting much better at really letting go of my desires & trusting Him.


My answer for what is a Christian & by no means do I think this is the right view for everyone. It is just my answer for my walk. I knew that to really call myself a Christian I had to seek what God wanted more than what I desired. It was not there for the majority of my life-even after a Damascus Road experience almost 40 years ago to the day. Today, though I fail at times-for the most part I am there.

Do you ever shock yourself with something you say? One day I was frustrated over book sales & I exclaimed to no one..as I was alone.."Rather a thousand copies with You than a million without You." I realized I meant that & for most of my life & this writing adventure I would have chosen the million with the attitude that I would catch up with God on the flip side. Isn't it easy to do that in so many areas of our life? Relationships, living a lifestyle we know God did not call us too. The list goes on.

So this is an update for those that ask if The River Hideaway is still available. I do have a few copies of The River Hideaway at home if you want a signed copy. I can mail them or if you are local I can find a way to get a copy to you. Also for those of you that enjoyed The River Hideaway & want more. God bless you. The kind words from many of you are treasured. The River Hideaway touched people. Made people told me that they reflected about their faith-if they were still harboring any prejudices..Their words-not mine. To tell a story that touched people-made them think about their relationship with God.. That is the good stuff & I am deeply humbled.

One exciting thing did happen in my writing world this year. I had an article published in Optimist International Magazine about my Coach & the man who rescued from the scrap heap of this life many years ago. It is in the Summer Issue 2016.

Thank you & God bless each & every one of you.
PS For digital readers The River Hideaway is available on Kindle & Nook..
https://www.amazon.com/River-Hideaway-Billy-B…/…/ref=sr_1_1…

Once again this beautiful photo was taken by my friend, Robbie Johnson.

JOURNEY (Pre Blog Time)

 I wrote this before blogging-before I turned the wheel over-before I would attend Passion 2012 (I did not even know about the event at the time) Before I knew who Julie was.

I have no idea why I wrote this other than God knew real change was coming for me & he wanted me to see where I had been before he took me to the next step.

December 18, 2011

It was nearing the end of summer in 1975 as I walked that night in my neighborhood. I was nineteen, troubled, and the walk much like my life had no particular destination. A girlfriend that I treated badly walked away and decided to fill her own emptiness with someone else. It was not until she was out the door that I realized that I actually loved her, though that was the last thing in my life I desired.

It was strange that I would be out on a night as this and not be high on some substance, but for whatever reasons I was not.  

I don’t recall a thought as I walked the street I lived on and turned left on to the next road. What I do recall is that I walked gazing at the sky for much of the walk. I can point to the place I was at today all these years later when what I can only describe as a whoosh that began in the top of my head and permeated throughout my entire body. I hear a whisper with unmistakable clarity. “Come and admit that you are wrong. Come and sing my glorious song.” One lone tear dribbled down my left cheek.  

A few steps later I gazed up again to the dark sky and asked, “Is that You God?” I did not need an answer because I already knew.  Over thirty five years later I still don’t know why this happened to me. My family referred to it as my Damascus Road and indeed it was.

It would be pleasant if this story was a happy one and that I turned from my life immediately and walked a different path with happiness and harmony. I did turn from my life of promiscuity, drugs, parties that saw the sun rise on a regular basis. My life began with that supernatural moment and I thought that there would be so much more to come but I had to learn to live in the natural, and by faith which proved an obstacle I could not overcome.

I made a rash of hurried decisions and the worse was a marriage born of a small church group that had all the answers and from my loneliness. Remember the girl that found solace in another? Well I blocked all that away. I married someone while still in love with another. It was a not so great start for a lifetime of happiness.

I spent ten years unhappily married-never letting go of my Damascus Road completely but at the same time when your home is misery for both of you how can you walk a fruitful path? I could not.

At age 32 I was single, alone, and seemingly never able to escape the fight over our child, property, and money. I longed for fairness in an unfair world and when it became apparent that I was not going to get it I lashed out at God and my festering anger toward him grew exponentially for the next twenty years. Often my prayers turned to cursing at a God powerful enough to whisper to me on a dark road and change my life but who was miles away when I needed him most.

I had several failed relationships after divorce. I sought love and intimacy and found it, however fleeting it proved to be. I was flawed, vulnerable and I found the same in partners. Some of the experiences were enthralling but the downside grew too steep.

Depression loomed but I could always flip the switch and walk out of any dark places but then twice the darkness became so severe that I reconciled myself to the awareness that I was not Superman after all. One night as I drove around listening to Bruce Springsteen and drinking heavily I drove into the garage and left the music playing and the car running. I was playing a game. It won’t really be suicide if I just fall asleep drunk never to wake again. I don’t know if I fell asleep or not but at some point my beautiful son’s face appeared and what I could not do for myself I had to do for him. I cut the car off and walked inside, wondering if I could outlast this particular debilitating bout of darkness.

During this time I went to a Saturday night church service with my son Micah. The minister was talking about what is holding you back? What is keeping you from turning your life completely over to God? Micah has a recall for details of his childhood that are incisive. He turned to me and asked softly but with conviction not expected from a young teen ager. “What’s keeping you Dad?” He has no recollection of this event. It was God speaking through him but still I had my plans, my dreams, and my desires. Let me achieve those first and then maybe I will get around to God.

It was a Saturday night, March 2007 and I was talking to my mom on the phone.  During the course of our chat she mentioned that Jim Glasgow was back at Myrtle Grove. I was a member at Myrtle Grove but I had not been to a service in many years. I was not attending church anywhere.  I attended a few but none felt right. I had always liked Jim. He is a humble man with a heart for the broken. Something clicked when Mom said that and I decided I am going to Myrtle Grove in the morning. I knew that once while it thrived under the leadership of my dear friend Horace Hilton it had fallen on harder times. It was no longer the church that people lined up at to get in the door.

I did not know that it would become a church home for me. That it would feel right. I went sporadically for the first three years. My anger at God for circumstances that he refused to change would surface and I would in my mind defy him and refuse to attend for several weeks. Still I kept returning.

There was no life changing voice this time but as I reflect back now I see a few events that did not seem big at the time but have had a profound effect on my life. I witnessed them not realizing that they would stick with me as major teachings in my life.

The first I can recall was sitting alone at the end of the pew-as usual refusing to reach out to anyone. I had to keep a distance and protect myself from any religious people.  It was before church began and I without thought picked up the Bible in front of me. I opened it to Galatians 5:7. You were running a good race. Who cut in on you and kept you from obeying the truth?

The second event was when a man brought his potter’s wheel to church and began to mold as a woman spoke. I don’t recall if the man ever spoke and I can’t recall any word spoken during that service. Something however gnawed at me. What I sensed was God saying, “You have tried to mold me into what you think I should be. I am the potter you are the clay and it is not the other way around.”

I don’t recall thinking to much that day about the service but it has been a few years now and that is still my lesson. I think it always will be. I see it not only applying to my life but often in our church of today. I resist religious behavior. The tightly held religious person with their ordinances often seem hard and cold to me. It is about our heart isn’t it? The best examples that I lean on were Horace, and today

David Foster and Steve Wallin. They are men who live the gospel in their hearts not with pointed finger but rather a hand up.

Still, as our world has become extremely liberal haven’t we assumed God has moved with us? I know I have. But I return to the reminder of the potter and the clay. I need to not only understand but accept that I am the clay.

Jim shared a message and the part I remember was about small groups and the need to belong to one. I had attended one and it never felt right to me. Nothing against the people involved. It was just not the right fit for me. I felt pressure when I began to break away from the group. I don’t react well with pressure.

I talked to Jim about this and asked, “Do you really think every member should be in a small group?” He thought for a few seconds and replied, “I think you need to be known.” Now that was big for me because I am introverted and I came each Sunday but I sat in my corner alone and while cordial I refused to reach out to anyone. God has slowly changed that in me.

Steve Mattis also returned to Myrtle Grove where he assumed the role as senior pastor. The recurring theme in all messages by Steve is we can’t make it by being good. We can’t make it with our religious behavior and rituals. It is only with grace that we have hope.

One example that Steve used one Sunday with Jerry Cannon also resonated with me and does to this day. It also tied into what Jim shared about being known or in my case I believe God speaking softly for me to get out of my corner. Steve quoted a scripture about how we are to exalt or encourage one another. He said something about Jerry that was very true and then asked how he felt. Jerry replied awesome. It got a little emotional for both of them because it was heartfelt.

What I took away from that was certainly not to false flatter someone but how hard this life can be at times. You never know what one kind true word can mean to someone unless you speak it. It was an easy way for me to slowly get out of my corner that I am so darn comfortable in. I have certainly been on the other end of it when I felt like I was at that last strand of rope and someone offered kindness and hope. I remember during the darkest times of depression my mom saying, “Billy, you have to have hope. Without hope you have nothing.”  

I am self centered-stuck in what I do not have. My failed dreams, emptiness, but from that one little message there have been many times since then when I have prayed, “Lord if I can offer someone some encouragement today who is struggling led me to that opportunity.”

Horace once told me that each Sunday on each pew there was someone with a broken heart. Often it was me.

Steve shared a poignant message several months ago about how we should literally die to ourselves. That sounds so harsh. I can only tell you what it means to me. The more of my heart that I allow to die the more room there is for Jesus to come and replace my self centered desires. And if Jesus fills my heart more with his spirit and his love then I won’t need ordinances to tell me what to do. I will do it because of who has taken up residence in my heart.

I spent so much time in darkness that I could not even imagine being happy in Heaven. I often would ask God to take me now and I will opt out of any afterlife. “You can have it God,” as if I had anything to bargain with. Steve spoke of Heaven recently and how being in the presence of God we will be so full we will overflow. He used the example of a cup is not overflowing until too much water is added. It must go beyond full.

But I am not to wait for that but to long for that while I am here. Again it goes back to my heart. How much is me? How much will I let go of to have it replaced with something better.

It is a journey, and one in which I struggle mightily. Listening to Michael Mattis in his message December 18 caused me to explore my nights. That is the time when it can rain down on me the most with negativity. The times I feel so alone and it is as if all that I face comes together as one mighty weight to crush me. The dreams unrealized, the mom such a spiritual force and suffering now with dementia, and the one person I want brought into the fullness of God more than me but as the spirit calls holds on to that last entrapment.

Often these nights are so bad that it influences darkly the next day. This brings times when faith is so very difficult for me to find. What did the man say to Jesus when asked if he believed? Yes Lord I believe. Help me my unbelief. Mark 9:24. I love the raw honesty that I find in that scripture.

A few weeks ago I was looking for a scripture to post on my Facebook status. Something inspiring but fresher than one I would typically turn too. I found Jeremiah 32:27 “Behold, I am the LORD, the God of all flesh; is anything too difficult for me?”

I believe that was a scripture to take root and prepare me for hearing about the night. Last night as I prayed and as the obstacles came to me one at a time I named each one and said, Lord you are bigger than my loneliness. You are bigger than mom’s dementia. I continued to name each one and I followed it with Lord you are bigger than ….

One thing in my favor as I walk down this road is I returned to Myrtle Grove over four years ago with an honest heart. I resist when people judge me because I am my worse critic. I know the good, the bad, and the ugly. I will not give in to church speak, tradition, clichés, religion, or rituals. I won’t say I believe it if I don’t. That does not make me right, and I could well be wrong. But God will have to show me and I am more than willing to be wrong.

There is no Damascus Road this time and the process slow but the foundation more sturdy and I have more hope in finding the path God calls to me. As I search for the next step what I feel is in a world of outwardly trappings that God wants to make me beautiful from the inside out.

A few years ago Jim suggested a book for me to read. What’s So Amazing about Grace by Phillip Yancey. It seems to be appropriate to end this letter of journey with a quote from that book.

"As a child, I put on my best behavior on Sunday mornings, dressing up for God and for the Christians around me. It never occurred to me that church was a place to be honest. Now, though, as I seek to look at the world through the lens of grace, I realize that imperfection is the prerequisite for grace. Light only gets in through the cracks.”

May we all leave our religious clothes at home and come each Sunday with an honest and open heart. Luke 12:34 "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”