There Must Be Something More

84 | So Be It

"And... another Little League is coming up in a couple of weeks, so let's look out for that," Coach Anderson was announcing. He flipped at his clipboard boredly. Then he looked up at us. "So, yeah, that's it."

Everyone started to walk away from the diamond. The sun beat down at us like a doldrum. I kept wiping sweat off my brow and forehead. My baseball shirt suddenly felt too tight, my bat too heavy.

Then Coach looked up at me. "Borlock, come here a sec."

That was weird. It had been a while since he had called me in a private meeting before. Mostly it was to compliment of my performance during practices, and in some days just to ask me to buy some soda from the vending machine.

I curtly approached his side by the bleachers. He didn't look at me. He just stared out in the field as if watching an invisible League. I wondered if all baseball coaches had to when they get older. I found the thought amusing.

"Borlock," Coach Anderson started. "Heard you quit."

I boggled at him. I shook my head. "Baseball? No way! Who said I quit baseball?"

"Not baseball," he said, closing his eyes.

"Oh," I scratched my head. I waited for him to clarify, but he didn't. I bit. "Quit what?"

"Christianity," he said.

I froze. "What?"

"Heard from a source you quit that little religious club of yours. You know, the one where Religious Girl is also involved."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean--"

"Good riddance, right?" He turned to me in a solicitous smile. If I didn't know he was mocking Christianity, I would say he was inviting.

"Ah, religion is a stumbling block to society," Coach Anderson continued. "Look at the wars especially caused by religion. There's so many of them: ISIS, World War II, and even the little divisions in our society because of it."

I clenched my fist.

"I wish there were more people like you, Borlock. You're not only great at sports, but you're also wise in making important decisions in your life. I heard you quit because you knew you couldn't defend the blind faith of Christianity. Thank goodness you found the truth before you got too mixed up in it, huh?"

I gulped.

"One day I'm wishing for a world where we're all united. No religion. Just us. Just reality," he said.

And I exploded.

"You're right," I said.

Coach Anderson nodded, but I quickly added.

"You're right," I said again. "If I didn't defend the truth of Christianity, I might as well have left it. And so I'm not quitting. I made a mistake."

Coach Anderson stared at me as if I was hysterical. "Borlock! What are you talking about? You're doing great. Don't ruin it!"

"With all due respect, Coach, we still have our own rights. I don't want to be known as the guy who quit on God just because things seemed difficult. And there is evidence of Him."

He looked at me, clenched his jaw. "And how might you prove that?"

I smiled. "I don't know. I guess I'm going to have more faith, then."

He looked at me like I was the craziest person in the world.

I turned around to get out of there, but he stopped me short.

"Borlock, you're not seriously going to take the principal up on that offer, are you?" He said, looking at me sternly.

"It's bad enough you had a history of being a Christian! Do you know what the teachers were saying in the lounge? They keep asking me why my star player's becoming all religious and soft. They doubt my leadership because of this made-up religion of yours."

I stared at him. "Coach, with all due respect--again--I couldn't care less what people think of me anymore. They don't know how beautiful it is to be with Jesus. They don't know how fulfilling it is to be doing the Lord's will in my life."

"Charlie Borlock, if you continue with this, you are out of baseball. If you choose to defend your cult against the principal and my beliefs, you are out. And your scholarship's in the toilet." He threatened.

Now that caused my knees to buckle. What am I to do? Baseball was my thing! I had always dreamed to be a successful player someday! I had always imagined my parents appaluding because they were proud of me. I had always imagined doing it for the rest of my life.

I closed my eyes. But I could never imagine myself without God. I already had, and it almost killed me.

"So be it," I said. The words were like knives to my heart. I wanted to take it back, but it was too late already. Coach Anderson was giving me a murderous glare, and I had already decided to follow Jesus. To defend His sovereignty.

"Good luck ruining your life and future, Borlock," the coach said. "I want the uniform back on Friday."

I nodded. "Yes, sir." I jogged to the lockers, fighting back tears.

----------

I leaned my head on the wall and sighed heavily. I had my legs stretched to the edge of my bed. I had the impression I had gotten taller. I stood and measured myself and realized I had grown four inches.

And then I leaned my forehead on the measuring doorframe. I closed my eyes, feeling tears well up.

Now I've done it, God, I thought. I've finally quit baseball. I don't mean to complain, but I don't get what You're trying to do in my life right now. I'm so confused. Baseball is my sport. You know that. But it seems like You wanted me to give it up. What's going on? I thought if I seek Your kingdom first, You'd give me the desires of my heart? But You just took baseball away. I don't get it, God. I don't get You.

I sighed. I remembered Trey's very words: Remember Hebrews 11:1? Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

I sighed. I didn't regret choosing Jesus, but I was bewildered why I had to give up something that I thought was a real gift from God. I guess I needed more faith.

But I figured moping about it wasn't going to help anything. I needed to get started with how I was going to defend the Christian faith.

I sat on my swivel chair, facing my bedside table. I took out a pen and notebook. I wrote:

The biggest questions to Christianity:

I tapped my pen and thought of the common questions I often heard from skeptics. Questions I asked when I was an agnostic. I frowned. I couldn't think of anything.

I stood from my chair and looked out the window for some fresh air. I spotted the now abandoned house that used to be Liam Kirby's. I remembered how hard his life was with his sister. I remembered how he used to have these arguments that often kept me up at night. I remembered his smoking habit. And I remembered the very reason why I was motivated to win him to Christ.

I ran back to the table and scribbled the first real question the Holy Spirit had revealed to me.

1.) Why is there evil and suffering?