Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts

Tuesday, May 15, 2018



THE PEACE OF AN ATHEIST 

(Monthly column for Pandora's Box Gazette)



Sunday Inspiration: The Peace of an Atheist

May 13, 2018

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.



Friday, August 4, 2017

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. 



Monday, July 11, 2016

Coach



  This is an article I wrote about "That One Person" that is featured in the Summer Issue of Optimist International Magazine.         http://www.optimist.org/magazine/Summer2016/TheOptimist-Summer2016.pdf  

            Ed Wilson was a baseball legend. He coached Little League Baseball for over twenty five years. His team, Hanover Center, won over fifteen league championships, ten county championships, and at one time enjoyed a winning streak of fifty games which set a world record for the most consecutive victories by a baseball team at any level. He also guided two All-Star teams to North Carolina State titles.
He was my coach for three years of my youth and a few years later as a young man I was an assistant coach on his staff. Coach’s teams set records that will never be approached and yet that pales in comparison to why this man was so loved by so many of his ‘boys.’ He impacted lives and none more so than mine.
A perplexed rival coach once said to him. “I don’t understand why your teams are better than mine. I have players just as good as yours and I know as much about coaching baseball as you do.”
Coach’s response summed up a lot about his philosophy as a coach. “That’s because you are coaching baseball and I am coaching boys.” 
The morning after receiving the news that Coach passed away at the age of ninety eight, I found myself outside the gate to the Little League field. My thoughts drifted to a time when I stood in the same exact spot when he would alter the course of my life forever.
It was an early spring day forty years previous. I was nineteen. That morning I noticed in the local newspaper the Little League tryouts information. Each team was listed with the boys that were to report to the team that selected them. I filed away in my mind the four p.m. time that the boys were to report to Coach and went about my day.
Sometime after four I stood outside the gate to the baseball diamond. I had no plan. I had told no one I was going but I was there none the less.
Coach was businesslike as ever as he conducted practice. Still, he walked over a couple of times to inquire about how I was doing. I was not in school or employed and far worse I had no positive direction in my life. I had gotten myself into trouble the year before and he knew about this because he came to visit me when he heard the news.
It was nearing six p.m. and tryouts were about to conclude. He walked over one last time.
“You need any help, Coach?”  I asked sheepishly.   
Coach had a gruff, no nonsense demeanor. He looked at me and said, “You want to help me? Be at the school tomorrow at four.” He turned abruptly and walked away.
I was at the school the next day before four o’clock as I knew he would be. He already had a full coaching staff. I have come to realize that he did not need my help as much as he knew that I might be in need of his.
In time, I would look back to that one moment as being the crossroad of my life.   I discovered a love for the kids and for coaching. I began to realize the chance he had taken on me and I did not want to disappoint him.
I spent the next four spring and summers coaching with him before taking my own path. I taught basketball to the same age boys for the next twenty years. The lessons I learned from my mentor were with me always. They remain so because Coach taught all of us a lot more than baseball. He taught us life.
His son, Bob, asked me to speak at Coach’s funeral. It was one of the greatest honors of my life. I shared that day as I have many times that for some of us there is that one person who God places in our life that makes all the difference. Ed Wilson was that man for me. I shudder to think where I might be if not for a chance a ball coach took on a lost young man on a late spring afternoon.
Winter Park Optimist was formed in 1954 at Hugh MacRae Park, located in Wilmington, North Carolina. Coach and his brother Glenn ‘Doc’ Wilson, who also was a successful Little League baseball coach, were instrumental in the early days and for years to come in the shaping and guiding of Winter Park Optimist Little League.  There are two press boxes that were named in their honor many years ago. On April 6, 2013 there was a day held in their honor on the very field they coached on long ago. 
Winter Park Optimist is still going strong to this day over sixty years later. The baseball fields are still located in Hugh MacRae Park but there are now four baseball fields, which is twice the number when I was with Coach. They also have three fields nearby at John T Hoggard High School for girls fast pitch softball.   
Written by Billy Beasley. Author of The River Hideaway. You can contact him at billybeasleyauthor@gmail.com or on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorBillyBeasley/