The Skepticism Of Beth
Beth was a skeptic by nature. For as long as she could remember she had been that way. The things she was skeptical about would fill a small book. You name it, she would dispute it.
She scoffed at the idea of UFOs and aliens, Bigfoot made her laugh and shake her head in disbelief. She always told everybody, “If they are real, show me one. Then I’ll believe.”
Talking to her was an experience since she was so opinionated. She usually took over the conversation, was determined to prove her point was right, and seldom could you get a word in edgewise. It got to the point that people did their best to avoid her. As she grew older she became very obnoxious. She lived a very, lonely life.
One Saturday afternoon her doorbell rang.
“Now who can that be? Nobody ever comes to visit,” She thought while going to the door.
She opened the door and came face to face with a young man.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Beth? Are you Beth Siles?”
“Yes,” she answered apprehensively.
“My name is Bob Wicker. I’d like to invite you to our church, Willing Vessels Assembly Of God.”
“You’re talking to the wrong person,” she replied. “I Don’t believe in God. There’s no such thing.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask why you don’t believe?”
“It’s a gigantic fairy tale. You have no proof God exists. If He is real, then I want to see Him. That’s the only way I will believe.”
Bob had been told about Beth’s skepticism.
“She’s a tough nut to crack,” his pastor had told him.
“I’ve heard that from many of the church members,” he had replied. “But I’m going to try. She needs Jesus.”
“I agree,” answered his pastor. “I’ll be praying for you.”
Now he was standing on her porch, trying to think of what to say. That’s when it happened. He opened his mouth to speak and the voice wasn’t his.
“Beth,”
She stared at Bob. It was like he was in a trance. His eyes were closed and he had a smile on his face.
“Beth.”
“Bob?”
“No, Beth, I am Jesus. I am using Bob to speak to you. You ask me to prove that I exist. Can you prove that I don’t?”
She stared at Bob. Was this some kind of trick? For some reason, his voice had changed.
Taken back, she answered, “Well, no I can’t. I’ve always judged things by one rule. If I can’t see, smell, touch, hear, or taste it, then I don’t believe it”
“Then you don’t believe in the wind. Is that correct?”
As she was trying to come up with an answer, Jesus spoke again.
“Beth, I love you.”
“You love me? How can anything that doesn’t exist love me?”
Jesus was ready for her.
“Beth, I visited you when you were six years old. Your grandmother had died, and you were lying on your bed, crying your eyes out. Do you remember how warm your room became? Do you remember feeling safe and secure, then drifting off to sleep?”
A frightened look came over her face and she whispered, “How could you possibly know that?”
“I was there. I was there because I love you,” answered Jesus.
Beth stared at Bob even more intently. What threw her was his voice had changed into a deep, rich, baritone voice. Something was happening. She didn’t know what, but it was.
Shaking it off, she answered, “You could tell me anything expecting me to believe. So far, you’ve said nothing to make me believe,” she said while closing the door.
“What must I do to prove who I am?”
She stopped and turned back to Bob.
“Tell me about when my grandmother died. If you can, then I will believe.”
“Beth, you remind me of one of my disciples. Thomas had to be shown my scars. Then he believed that I had risen from the dead and that I was Jesus.”
“Tell me and I will believe.”
“Beth, don’t you realize I am using Bob to talk to you? My voice is different from his. Don’t you find it strange?”
“Yes, but it could be a trick,” she answered. “Tell me about my grandmother.”
“You were lying on your bed and you were crying. Your grandmother, Kathleen Siles passed away after a long bout with breast cancer. You were wearing pink My Little Pony pajamas. Your bedspread had the same decor. Your bedroom walls were pink and you had your Raggedy Ann doll by your side.”
“How could you know that?” she whispered.
“I was there. You also said a prayer for your grandmother. You said, “God, please take care of my grandmother Katy.”
“You’re real? No one could know that but you!”
“Do you believe now?”
“Yes,” she cried with a trembling voice.
Bob shook his head, opened his eyes, and stared at a very emotional Beth. He knew that something had happened. He wasn’t sure what it was. One moment he was himself and the next something had taken control of his mouth.
“I don’t know what just happened,” said Bob. “Can you tell me?”
She was too shaken up to talk.
“The invitation still goes. We’d love to see you in church tomorrow.”
“What time?” she whispered.
“Worship service starts at ten o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.”
As Bob got into his truck, he stopped and prayed, “Thank you, Father. I don’t know what happened. It must have been something good because she’s coming to church tomorrow."
Later that night, the pastor called him, “How did it go with Beth?”
“She’s coming to church tomorrow,” he answered.
“Praise the Lord. How did you do it?”
“I’m not sure. I turned it over to God. That’s all I know. I can’t remember a word I said after I introduced myself,” answered Bob. But for some reason, I feel like Balaam’s donkey.”
His pastor nodded and smiled, “You have a new nickname now. Shall I spread it around?”
Bob just glared at him, shook his head, and began laughing, “You better not!”
Beth came to church and found Jesus. He was waiting for her and she met Him personally.
She is no longer called “Beth, the Skeptic.” She now proudly goes by “Beth, the Believer.
March 23, 2022