Until Recently (for Ethan)

I have always been my most important person
My world has been somewhat limited to one
The days and nights revolved around my wishes
And I've successfully remained attached to none.
Until recently.

As though the world around me is but a prop
To a reality consumed only with its own
A thought that life is but a stage to star upon
Marks a previously lived life contentedly alone.
Until recently.

With a long effort and a hard few days
The world was enlightened to something new
When a small pair of eyes first looked into mine
My life mattered the least the moment I met you.

Your tiny hand wrapped around my finger
An unexpected and new love broke my heart in two
The smallest of cries drowned out my biggest thoughts
My life mattered the least the moment I met you.

Happiness was limited and success was vague
In a previous world with a populace of one
Futures were just days, feelings were just words
And Love was little more than an unfamiliar emotion.
Until recently.


~LBell

Savior Please

Savior, please take my hand.
I work so hard, I live so fast.
This life begins, then it ends.
And then I do the best that I can,
but I don't know how long I'll last.

I try to be so tough,
but I'm just not strong enough.
I can't do this alone, God I need You
to hold on to me.
I try to be good enough,
but I'm nothing without Your love.
Savior, please keep saving me.

Savior, please help me stand.
I fall so hard, I fade so fast.
Will You begin right where I end?
And be the God of all I am because You're all I have.

Hallelujah!
Everything You are to me
is everything I'll ever need.
and I am learning to believe
cause You're the One who's saving me.

Remind Me To Forget

Summer has never been my favorite season. Perhaps this is a direct result of having lived my entire life in the South. Don't get me wrong, there is no other place I'd rather live (Colorado or Wyoming notwithstanding). However, a consequence of living in the South is that of usually mild winters with little to no chance of snow. I think we all crave what we don't have; thus explains my desire for cooler temps and a healthy dose of the white fluffy stuff every year. Warm days are excessive and in my opinion, they grow old rather quickly. So summer (fun activities such as lakeside picnics, minor league baseball games, outdoor concerts, etc. aside) has always been just a period of time to drudge through. Between the months of May and September you will find me counting the days until the first leaf falls and until the first kick at a college football game. This summer was no exception. However, this summer was especially dry for me for a host of other reasons.

Coming off of a high in early April (thanks to my friend Kerry and her invitation to join her on a cross-country trip to Colorado and back) I felt as if this summer could be different. And though I can't pinpoint the downturn in my state of mind to any specific event, I can assure you the decline was just as real and, in my own world, devastating. I don't use the word "devastating" lightly. Maybe I sound quite melodramatic but the change in my attitude and emotional stability pre-summer to post-summer has been nothing short of life altering. This change frustrates me. I'll go as far as to say the thoughts that accompany my seeming downward spiral completely anger me. This slide into a dark place I’d rather not be is evidenced by my lack of entries since April 20, 2010.

I cannot be specific as to the personal battle I'm fighting (poorly - I might add) because I take no pride in it. Maybe I should use my blog as a confessional so as to solicit help from loving and praying friends. But I'm not there yet. Anyone that knows me knows I am quite prideful. And to publicly reveal my vulnerability is something I am unwilling to do. Simply claiming my shortcomings is as exposed as I'll ever admit. There is safety in citing generic sins (i.e. doubt, frustration, anger, etc.) as we all deal with those on a daily, if not hourly, basis. There is camaraderie in self revelation just so long as the details are left up to various imaginations. Because in all truth, I'd rather the reader speculate of my demons than to remove all doubt. I fear their assumption would fall short of matching my reality.

All of this to say, I'm struggling. More aptly put, I'm drowning. At the start of this summer I had all the confidence in the world that I could finally claim victory in my hardest fought battles. I truly believed that my past would no longer captivate me. Maybe my confidence led to my fall. Maybe I was so consumed with announcing a win that I didn't see the blitz coming from behind. Maybe I was too intent on claiming triumph that was never mine. These are my best guesses. Regardless, I find myself once again, standing on a hill worth dying for. But I haven't the fight in me to do so. My desire? To lay down my arms. But what troubles me most is the thought that surrender would not yield happiness. In fact, I know the opposite to be true. For I tapped out about 5 months ago and it has led to nothing more than increased aggravation. Old sins die hard.

So what do I do? How do I muster the strength to start anew? Where does my help come from? Oh wait, I know the answer to that last one. Psalm 121 has something to say about that...

I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come?
My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.
He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD is your keeper; the LORD is your shade on your right hand. The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night.

The LORD will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life.
The LORD will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.

The better question then is where is my help? I do believe it is within grasp if I will ask for it. So why this blog entry? Why voice concerns over a losing battle if success is within reach? Because like a stubborn child that refuses to obey I am sitting on my hands waiting for my Father to send me to my room. God knows my heart better than I know myself. He knows my weaknesses and He knows where I stand. He sees me sinking in the quicksand yet He is still. I can feel Him reaching for me yet at the same time, I feel unreachable. How do I stop stomping my feet in defiance and end this stalemate between my heart and God's? The burden is on me yet I long for forced compliance.

This dichotomy in my soul is proof positive of the warfare that continues in all our hearts. Just as Paul stated in Romans 7:14-25, the hostility I'm feeling, is with myself. The want of peace in my soul is losing out to the desire to fulfill my selfish wishes. My addictions are ruling my actions and I am weary. Again, risking melodrama, my addictions are slowly killing my spirit. My past is ruling my present and in turn dictating my future. And I, though I know better, feel powerless to stop it.

So as this summer comes to a close I find myself a few months older yet I feel a few years further behind. The first leaf has already fallen and I am two weeks past the first kick on a college football field. Nevertheless my disappointment remains. I liken this entry to a Hail Mary. I beseech the reader to brawl on my behalf, as I haven’t strength to stand. My appeal is for prayer. Only God can clear my mind and help me conquer the personal demons that hold me so tightly. Only God can renew my vigor and bolster my will to continue on in this fight. Only God can remind me to forget my past sins and help me avoid repeating them. Only God.

The Dinner Roll

Once upon a time I was invited to the White House for a private dinner with the President.

I am a respected businessman, with a factory that produces memory chips for computers and portable electronics.

There was some talk that my industry was being scrutinized by the administration, but I paid it no mind. I live in a FREE country. There's nothing that the government can do to me if I've broken no laws. My wealth was EARNED honestly, and an invitation to dinner with an American President is an honor.

I checked my coat, was greeted by the Chief of Staff, and joined the President in a yellow dining room.

We sat across from each other at a table draped in white linen. The Great Seal was embossed on the china. Uniformed staff served our dinner.

The meal was served, and I was startled when my waiter suddenly reached out, plucked a dinner roll off my plate and began nibbling it as he walked back to the kitchen..

"Sorry 'bout that," said the President. "Andrew is very hungry."

"I don't appreciate..." I began, but as I looked into the calm brown eyes across from me, I felt immediately guilty and petty. It was just a dinner roll. "Of course," I concluded, and reached for my glass.

Before I could, however, another waiter reached forward, took the glass away and swallowed the wine in a single gulp. "And his brother, Eric, is very thirsty," said the President.

I didn't say anything. The President is testing my compassion, I thought. I withheld my comments and decided to play along. I don't want to seem unkind..

My plate was whisked away before I had tasted a bite.

"Eric's children are also quite hungry."

With a lurch, I crashed to the floor. My chair had been pulled out from under me.

I stood, brushing myself off angrily, and watched as it was carried from the room.

And their grandmother can't stand for long."

I excused myself, smiling outwardly, but inside feeling like a fool. Obviously I had been invited to the White House to be sport for some game. I reached for my coat, to find that it had been taken.

I turned back to the President.

"Their grandfather doesn't like the cold."

I wanted to shout, "that was my coat!" But again, I looked at the placid smiling face of my host and decided I was being a poor sport. I spread my hands helplessly and chuckled.

Then I felt my hip pocket and realized my wallet was gone. I excused myself and walked to a phone on an elegant side table.

I learned shortly that my credit cards had been maxed out, my bank accounts emptied, my retirement and equity portfolios had vanished, and my wife had been thrown out of our home.

Apparently, the waiters and their families were moving in. The President hadn't moved or spoken as I learned all this, but finally I lowered the phone into its cradle and turned to face him.

"Andrew's whole family has made bad financial decisions. They haven't planned for retirement and they need a house. They recently defaulted on a subprime mortgage. I told them they could have your home. They need it more than you do."

My hands were shaking. I felt faint I stumbled back to the table and knelt on the floor.

The President cheerfully cut his meat, ate his steak, and drank his wine. I lowered my eyes and stared at the small grey circles on the tablecloth that were water drops.

"By the way," he added, "I have just signed an Executive Order nationalizing your factories.

I'm firing you as head of your business. I'll be operating the firm now for the benefit of all mankind.

There's a whole bunch of Erics and Andrews out there and they can't come to you for jobs groveling like beggars...we need to spread YOUR wealth around..."

I looked up. The President dropped his spoon into the empty ramekin which had been his crème Brule.

He drained the last drops of his wine. As the table was cleared, he lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair.

He stared at me. I clung to the edge of the table as if it were a ledge and I were a man hanging over an abyss.

I thought of the years behind me, of the life I had lived. The life I had earned with a lifetime of work, risk and struggle.

Why was I punished? How had I allowed it to be taken? What game had I played and lost? I looked across the table and noticed with some surprise that there was no game board between us.

What had I done wrong?

As if answering the unspoken thought, President Obama suddenly cocked his head, locked his empty eyes to mine, and bared a million teeth, chuckling wryly as he folded his hands.

"You should have stopped me at the dinner roll," he said.

Where is Our Compassion?

A couple Sundays ago, my pastor decided to focus on Paul's message about God's Sovereign choice in Romans 9. Actually this has been an ongoing study but last week we really started digging into the meat of the message. To start the series off, Pastor Bud read the following passage:

Romans 9:1-5

I am speaking the truth in Christ—I am not lying; my conscience bears me witness in the Holy Spirit— that I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh. They are Israelites, and to them belong the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises. To them belong the patriarchs, and from their race, according to the flesh, is the Christ who is God over all, blessed forever. Amen.

A key component of this message is that of compassion. You'll notice that Paul doesn't water down his message but he speaks it with an unmistakable love in his heart. He affirms that he is a child of God yet he wishes he were not for the sake of his brothers, his lost brothers, for his sorrow is so great it is almost unbearable.

I wonder if I have ever experienced such a sorrow. I am blessed more than many with the knowledge that my dearest loved ones are too, children of God. But should I not be just as heartbroken as Paul from knowing I am surrounded daily by dead souls? Or am I so concerned with my own life, though it is already eternally secure, that I am oblivious to the spiritual carnage around me? How selfish can any one person be?

Of course I am quick to point out others need for Christ when confronted with questions or attacks. But my message rarely, if ever, holds an ounce of true compassion. It's true the Holy Spirit can work in the hardest of hearts. And it's further true that God can use even the most wicked to bring others to know Him. But do I truly think I am helping share Christ's light when my words are spat out like venom?

Pastor Bud told a story to accompany the message from that Sunday, two weeks ago, that helped me see just how foolish I am. I will paraphrase because my memory is poor. Hopefully the point will be as clearly conveyed by me as it was by Bud.

A small congregation struggled for quite a while to oust their current pastor. Their main complaint was that he stood at his podium and preached hellfire and brimstone each and every Sunday. He pointed out just how sinful they, as a people, are and he never let up in telling them of their need for repentance and for Christ.

Eventually, the congregation got their way and the pastor was replaced. The new pastor came in and preached the gospel and the congregation experienced a bit of a revival of sorts. You could say the attitudes of the people did a complete 180.

One day a member of the congregation, who had silently observed the entire chain of events, noticed the new pastor preached all the same texts, passages, messages, etc. as that of the former. Puzzled, he asked the congregation, why - if the new pastor preached all the same things as the old - would they be satisfied with the change? A member of the congregation spoke up and said, "The old pastor told us we were sinners in need of a Savior. The new pastor says the same. The difference is, the new pastor says it with tears."

More often than not, I speak the truth but not with tears. I speak the truth as if I am somehow responsible for my own salvation. I speak as if my soul deserved to be saved. This could not be farther from the truth. Only by the grace of an Almighty God am I adopted into the family of believers. How can I not be so moved as to cry out for my lost neighbors and how can I not love them enough to share what my Savior has done for me? Where is my compassion?

Don’t Be Afraid

“Now these three abide: anger, outrage, and fear—and the greatest of these is fear.”

That’s not in the Bible.

But sometimes I wonder if I think it is.

The United States House of Representatives just passed a health care reform bill that I and lots of other Christians opposed. Such legislation should concern us. There are some bad consequences for the weakest and most vulnerable among us, principally unborn children. But should it also concern us that so many of us are talking today about how afraid we are?

Is it a problem that some of us who are tranquil as still water about biblical doctrine and ecclesial mission are red-faced about Nancy Pelosi and the talking heads on MSNBC? Is it a problem that some who haven’t shared the gospel with their neighbors in months or years are motivated to vent to strangers on the street about how scary national health care will be?

It’s not that I think Christians should be disengaged from issues of justice (God forbid!). It’s just that I wonder if we wouldn’t represent Christ and his kingdom better if we did it with a certain tranquility of Spirit, a tranquility that signals we’re not afraid of the rise and fall of temporal kingdoms and their policies.

The words “do not fear” and “don’t be afraid” are among the most common phrases on the lips of our Lord—in both Old and New Testaments—and on the lips of his angelic messengers. I wonder why?

Isn’t it because “perfect love casts out fear” (1 Jn. 4:18)? Isn’t it because we “did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear” (Rom. 8:15)? Isn’t it because the Spirit prompts us not to “fear anything that is frightening” (1 Pet. 3:6)?

In fact, the Holy Spirit through King David, in a context far more frightening than that of our own, calls us to “fret not yourself because of evildoers” who will soon pass but “trust in the Lord and do good” (Ps. 37:1-3).

Here’s why this matters.

Most of us don’t preach “hellfire and brimstone” sermons anymore, on hell and God’s judgment. But hellfire is exactly what Jesus said we should fear. “And do not fear the ones who can kill the body but cannot kill the soul,” our Lord tells his disciples. “Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell” (Matt. 10:28).

Jesus not only teaches this; he lives it. Jesus doesn’t fear the crowds attempting to stone him. He doesn’t cower before Pilate. He isn’t afraid of the Sanhedrin. He’s confident and tranquil, even when he’s being arrested. But when he faces drinking from the cup of judgment of his Father, he sweats drops of blood.

If we were half as outraged by our own sin and self-deception as we are by the follies of our political opponents, what would be the result? If we rejoiced as much that our names are written in heaven as we do about such trivialities as basketball brackets, what would be the result?

So if what you’re afraid of is a politician or a policy or a culture or the future of Western civilization, don’t give up the conviction but give up the fear. Work for justice. Oppose evil. But do it so that your opponents will see not fear but trust, optimism, and affection.

“So now faith, hope and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love” (1 Cor. 13:13).

Fear God and, beyond that, don’t be afraid.

Russell Moore

Are you on Satan's radar?

While watching an online sermon from this past Sunday (03/14) preached at First Baptist Orlando, I was struck by something the pastor said. The entire sermon was a blessing but this one thought pierced my heart more so than any other. Pastor David asked "Are you on the Devil's radar?"

Let me explain the context of his question. The sermon was about Paul and his ministry to the lost at Ephesus and Pastor David read the account of how God used Paul to perform many miracles in Jesus' name. Well there were quite a few pharisaical Jews in the area at that time that both observed these acts and wanted to capitalize on them. So these "itinerant Jewish exorcists" decided to start performing "miracles" in Jesus' name as well. The next thing we see happen in Acts is really quite amazing. See for yourself...

Acts 19:11-15

And God was doing extraordinary miracles by the hands of Paul, so that even handkerchiefs or aprons that had touched his skin were carried away to the sick, and their diseases left them and the evil spirits came out of them. Then some of the itinerant Jewish exorcists undertook to invoke the name of the Lord Jesus over those who had evil spirits, saying, "I adjure you by the Jesus whom Paul proclaims." Seven sons of a Jewish high priest named Sceva were doing this. But the evil spirit answered them, "Jesus I know, and Paul I recognize, but who are you?"

Do you see what happened there? While claiming to be of God, the Jewish exorcists were confronted by the devil himself with a very telling question. "Jesus I know, and Paul I recognize, but who are you?" This question led Pastor David to ask his Sunday morning's congregation which category they would fall under if confronted by the devil. Would they be recognized by the devil? Or would Satan ask "who are you?"

Your first thought may lead you to believe there is no better place to be than off of Satan's radar. I tend to have this mentality. "I'll just blend into the back of the classroom and count down the minutes until the end of class." But life can hardly be compared to class and skirting by with a C is not even close to what it means to live your life for anything or anyone other than Christ. If I am giving my all for the Lord then I am going to be on Satan's radar. If I love the Lord then I WANT to be on Satan's radar. I want to be the thorn in the devil's side. I desire to make his job of wooing the lost sheep as hard as possible. I love to think that little, ole' Leslie can absolutely disrupt Satan's day and cause him to shake his fists at the heavens.

So despite my tendency to want to simply get by and in spite of my own selfish acts and downright laziness, I am going to do my best to be a pain in the butt. I'm going to be a disciple of Christ and I'm going live for Him. And if and when I ever come face to face with an evil spirit or Satan himself, He'll know exactly who I am. He'll know whose side I'm on. And though I am feeble and weak, I serve the most-high God who is abundantly able to do miracles through me. My fear will not conquer my faith for my spirit of fear has been replaced with the Holy Spirit who will cause even the demons in hell cower. When God speaks, hell trembles. Of whom should I be afraid?

Yes, I most definitely am going to be on Satan's radar. And should I face trials and tribulations because of this, I will rely on the promises of the Almighty God to protect and preserve me. This is a declaration to both you, the reader, and to my Father in Heaven. And to Satan I simply say, "Bring it."

First Baptist Orlando

Reflection

Is it just me or do you ever pause to reflect on who you are now versus who you used to be? This is not a "I can't believe how old I am" post but it does come on the cuff of my 32nd birthday week. And I can't help but realize just how far reaching and deep God's grace can go.

The transformation that I have experienced in my 31 years is nothing short of miraculous. To some, my past may seem quite benign but to the One that knows my heart better than I know myself, my past is full of wickedness in thought and deed. I think back to the many poor choices I made in young adulthood and marvel at how my Father not only protected me from tangible consequences but how He held my soul in the palm of His hand and protected my eternal future.

It is no coincidence that I am currently learning about the promise of eternal security for all believers in my studies at church. God does not mince words when He has Paul explain just how safe our souls are in the hands of an almighty and just God.

Romans 8:35-39 is quickly becoming one of my favorite Bible passages:

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, 'For your sake we are being killed all the daylong; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.' No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."

This message is worthy of much meditation. And the more I think on it, the more I am shaken to my core. My eternal security is not about how tightly I can hold on to Christ. It's about how tightly He is holding on to me! Do you fully appreciate that statement? Beyond the sacrifice, beyond the suffering, beyond the love above all loves, God continues to draw His children closer and continues to transform us into the Christ-like disciples we are called to be.

I am not as Christ-like as I desire to be. And I realize I will never be close to perfect in this world. But today, as I look back on the past 10 years of my life, I can clearly see God's hand in it. His hands have been a protector and punisher. His hands have directed and drawn. His hands have pushed and pulled. His hands have received anger and adoration. His hands have given lessons and love. But never, not even once, was I ever outside of His hands. And for that, I am grateful. For I am not the woman I once was.

His love is strong and His love is eternal. Not even death can separate me from the love of my God! It's no wonder that my sinful past can't even make a dent in my relationship with Christ. As usual, my thoughts are disjointed at best. But my message is this: Not because of who I am, but because of who He is, I am a child of God and I am actively being drawn closer to my Father. My God is bigger than my sin.