Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
Seasons Greetings to Everyone! This week I'd like to share another one of my Christmas poems with you. I pray it blesses you with God's Peace now and throughout the upcoming New Year!
O Child of Grace!
There is hope for this war-torn Christmas season,
that goes beyond all commonsense or reason.
For what Christ gave to this earth,
was the Promise of a new birth,
and as we struggle to win the fight
let us remember, on that long ago Bethlehem night
Christ came to earth a Child,
soft, gentle and mild.
And just as Joseph and Mary weighed this same Truth
so do I now Lord, as I think of You.
"O Child of Grace, Child of wonder,
filled with all mysteries yet to be pondered.
I ask Thee to come, dwell here in my heart,
imbue me with the assurance You will never depart."
With these words I am replenished with His abiding Peace,
and the knowledge He will never cease,
to change
and rearrange,
my life to resemble His.
Oh! How precious His Love really is!
With this my soul bursts forth in song to sing,
"Jesus Christ is Immanuel, God Incarnate, the Everlasting King of Kings!"
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
December 7, 1993
About Me
- Belle Anne Leslie
- I love to write poetry, fiction, non-fiction and feature articles!
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Monday, December 04, 2006
A Christmas Prayer for Soldiers Everywhere
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
During this Christmas season I wanted to take the time to say," Thank You!" to all the soldiers around the globe still fighting for freedom. I received this poem in the mail from the Disabled America Veterans. It so touched me I'd like to share it with all of you.
Untitled
'Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
in a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give,
and to see just who in this home did live.
I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand,
on the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
a sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different, it was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,
curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,
not how I pictured a United States soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?
I realized the families that I saw this night,
owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.
Soon 'round the world, the children would play,
and grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home.
The very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more,
my life is my God, my Country, my Corps."
The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours, so silent and still
and we both shivered from the cold night's chill.
I didn't want to leave on that cold, dark night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure,
whispered, "Carry on Santa, it's Christmas day, all is secure."
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night."
-Anonymous-
Merry Christmas Everyone! Please say a prayer for all those still serving at home and in far distant lands. God Bless!
During this Christmas season I wanted to take the time to say," Thank You!" to all the soldiers around the globe still fighting for freedom. I received this poem in the mail from the Disabled America Veterans. It so touched me I'd like to share it with all of you.
Untitled
'Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
in a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give,
and to see just who in this home did live.
I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand,
on the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
a sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different, it was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,
curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,
not how I pictured a United States soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?
I realized the families that I saw this night,
owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.
Soon 'round the world, the children would play,
and grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone,
on a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home.
The very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa, don't cry, this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more,
my life is my God, my Country, my Corps."
The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours, so silent and still
and we both shivered from the cold night's chill.
I didn't want to leave on that cold, dark night,
this guardian of honor so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure,
whispered, "Carry on Santa, it's Christmas day, all is secure."
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night."
-Anonymous-
Merry Christmas Everyone! Please say a prayer for all those still serving at home and in far distant lands. God Bless!
The Nativity Story, Part Two
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
This year marks the sixth year without my Mom, and the second without my Dad. Christmas for them always meant two things: families spending time together and food to share. Mom loved to bake. Each October, she and I would start baking pies ( Sweet potato, Raisin, Apple, pumpkin, lemon meringue, etc.), cookies, our famous Christmas Peanut Butter fudge, equally famous cheese biscuits, cinnamon rolls, and whatever else Mom could think of. The lucky recipients would be our family, friends and the Pastors' families. On Christmas morning, we would roll out of bed, to the smell of steaming hot coffee, fresh squeezed orange juice and hot buttery cinnamon or crescent rolls. Depending on how much money we had.
On a much smaller scale I still bake. These days, members of my family are likely to receive chocolate chip or peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, my Autumn Harvest Peach Pie or Mom's Sugarless Apple Pie.
On Christmas morning, it's usually me and my cat Sweet Pea, enjoying crescent rolls and hot cranberry apple herbal tea. Then later in the day, I'll call my sister, brother, friends and family, long distance and local, to wish them a Merry Christmas!
Which is what I am doing with you today. I pray all of you reading this have a blessed and joyous Merry Christmas, and an equally Happy New Year! I'm also sharing with you my own Christmas tradition, one of my Christmas poems. Enjoy!
The Messiah
Long ago and far away,
there began a brand new day
when time stood still
and revealed to us, God's Will.
We shepherds watched from afar,
the bright and shining Star,
when the Angel appeared,
and told us, "Do not fear!"
Then a Heavenly Host began to sing,
"Jesus Christ has come as King!"
We arose and flew,
to see if it was true!
In Bethlehem we found
Him, and gathered 'round,
to worship Him as King
for the Messiah had come to reign!
On that cold, starry night,
He had shed His awesome might,
coming to earth, a Child
soft, gentle and mild.
His Love unfolding as if in a dream,
flooded earth with its stream,
bathing us in God's sight,
as we beheld His Holy Light.
In this day and age
as nations war in rage,
God wants us to remember,
the time we have to choose Him, won't last forever.
So, during this war-torn holiday season
please consider the reason
Jesus came to this earth:
we have the chance for a new birth.
Through Jesus' atoning sacrifice
we can have eternal life.
The forgiveness of our sins
IF, we ask Him to come and live within
our hearts. Then we too will lift our voices to sing,
"Thank you Father God, the Messiah reigns!"
Written by:
Mildred A. Baker
& Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
December 19, 1990
Scripture Reference:
Luke 2:8-20
One last note: On Friday, December 1, 2006, the movie The Nativity Story hit theatres nationwide. Please take a couple of hours to go see it. I promise you, it will light a spark of Christmas Spirit in your hearts. Enjoy! Merry Christmas!
This year marks the sixth year without my Mom, and the second without my Dad. Christmas for them always meant two things: families spending time together and food to share. Mom loved to bake. Each October, she and I would start baking pies ( Sweet potato, Raisin, Apple, pumpkin, lemon meringue, etc.), cookies, our famous Christmas Peanut Butter fudge, equally famous cheese biscuits, cinnamon rolls, and whatever else Mom could think of. The lucky recipients would be our family, friends and the Pastors' families. On Christmas morning, we would roll out of bed, to the smell of steaming hot coffee, fresh squeezed orange juice and hot buttery cinnamon or crescent rolls. Depending on how much money we had.
On a much smaller scale I still bake. These days, members of my family are likely to receive chocolate chip or peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, my Autumn Harvest Peach Pie or Mom's Sugarless Apple Pie.
On Christmas morning, it's usually me and my cat Sweet Pea, enjoying crescent rolls and hot cranberry apple herbal tea. Then later in the day, I'll call my sister, brother, friends and family, long distance and local, to wish them a Merry Christmas!
Which is what I am doing with you today. I pray all of you reading this have a blessed and joyous Merry Christmas, and an equally Happy New Year! I'm also sharing with you my own Christmas tradition, one of my Christmas poems. Enjoy!
The Messiah
Long ago and far away,
there began a brand new day
when time stood still
and revealed to us, God's Will.
We shepherds watched from afar,
the bright and shining Star,
when the Angel appeared,
and told us, "Do not fear!"
Then a Heavenly Host began to sing,
"Jesus Christ has come as King!"
We arose and flew,
to see if it was true!
In Bethlehem we found
Him, and gathered 'round,
to worship Him as King
for the Messiah had come to reign!
On that cold, starry night,
He had shed His awesome might,
coming to earth, a Child
soft, gentle and mild.
His Love unfolding as if in a dream,
flooded earth with its stream,
bathing us in God's sight,
as we beheld His Holy Light.
In this day and age
as nations war in rage,
God wants us to remember,
the time we have to choose Him, won't last forever.
So, during this war-torn holiday season
please consider the reason
Jesus came to this earth:
we have the chance for a new birth.
Through Jesus' atoning sacrifice
we can have eternal life.
The forgiveness of our sins
IF, we ask Him to come and live within
our hearts. Then we too will lift our voices to sing,
"Thank you Father God, the Messiah reigns!"
Written by:
Mildred A. Baker
& Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
December 19, 1990
Scripture Reference:
Luke 2:8-20
One last note: On Friday, December 1, 2006, the movie The Nativity Story hit theatres nationwide. Please take a couple of hours to go see it. I promise you, it will light a spark of Christmas Spirit in your hearts. Enjoy! Merry Christmas!
The Nativity Story, Part One
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
Well, it's official, winter is here. Along with winter came the arrival of the Christmas season, one of the holiest days on the Christian calendar, second only to Easter. For most people the hustle and bustle of buying toys, and gifts for the season takes precedence over spiritual matters. Once, that was not always so. Over three thousand years ago, Christmas came into being on a cold night in a little town called Bethlehem Ephratah, in Israel. There a small child entered the world and brought God face to face with His creation. The baby's name: Immanuel, means "God With Us." Most know Him today as Jesus.
Christmas is the celebration of His birth. For the next several weeks I'm going to share with you some poems that (hopefully!) will give light and joy to your lives. I also pray as you read and share them, that you will take a moment during the festivities to give thanks to God, for the wonderful gift He gave us in His Son.
The Christmas King
Humbly, He laid in a manger
the greatest Gift of all.
He was treated like a stranger
yet, He loves us big and small.
He is the Promised One
who has come to set us free.
For, He is God's Son
who died upon Calvary's tree.
The gift goes on . . .
let us love and adore Him.
The birth of this lovely one,
who found no room in the inn.
Go, tell it as the wise men did
over the mountains and the hills,
"Jesus Christ has come to Live.
He is the Hope for this world's ills!"
Written by:
Mildred A. Baker
&
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
December 15, 1990
Well, it's official, winter is here. Along with winter came the arrival of the Christmas season, one of the holiest days on the Christian calendar, second only to Easter. For most people the hustle and bustle of buying toys, and gifts for the season takes precedence over spiritual matters. Once, that was not always so. Over three thousand years ago, Christmas came into being on a cold night in a little town called Bethlehem Ephratah, in Israel. There a small child entered the world and brought God face to face with His creation. The baby's name: Immanuel, means "God With Us." Most know Him today as Jesus.
Christmas is the celebration of His birth. For the next several weeks I'm going to share with you some poems that (hopefully!) will give light and joy to your lives. I also pray as you read and share them, that you will take a moment during the festivities to give thanks to God, for the wonderful gift He gave us in His Son.
The Christmas King
Humbly, He laid in a manger
the greatest Gift of all.
He was treated like a stranger
yet, He loves us big and small.
He is the Promised One
who has come to set us free.
For, He is God's Son
who died upon Calvary's tree.
The gift goes on . . .
let us love and adore Him.
The birth of this lovely one,
who found no room in the inn.
Go, tell it as the wise men did
over the mountains and the hills,
"Jesus Christ has come to Live.
He is the Hope for this world's ills!"
Written by:
Mildred A. Baker
&
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
December 15, 1990
Friday, November 17, 2006
A Thanksgiving to Remember
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
This Thanksgiving holiday is filled with poignant reminders of God's Grace and blessings I'd like to share. My church-Albright United Methodist Church in Mishawaka, IN is preparing to move back into the educational building sometime next month. Despite losing our sanctuary in a fire October 4th, we have much to be thankful for. The community we have and continue to serve, has poured forth with help to us. It's been a very humbling experience to be on the receiving end of so much support and love.
There is also the sad fact, we are a nation still at war with terrorists who seek to destroy anything or anyone who stand for God. As of today, the troops remain committed to the course of standing in the gap between the terrorists and the innocents they are trying to protect. When they are able, the soldiers provide Hope to everyone they meet.
With so much sadness in the world, I thought it would be a good idea to reflect on some 'little things' we take for granted. Here's a poem that sheds light on what I mean. God bless and I wish you all a Very Happy Thanksgiving!
Thank God For Little Things That Often Come Our Way!
Thank you God, for little things that often come our way.
The little things we take for granted every day! . . .
The morning's glory as we rise,
which meets our tired, worn out eyes.
The music of the birds we hear,
when we face ourselves in the mirror.
The soul-cleansing bath we take,
when we get a good old coffee break.
The deafening, relentless roar
in traffic, as our tempers soar.
The maddening dash for cash
when the tradepoints flip and crash! . . .
May we never take these for granted,
nor the other blessings we've been handed.
May we always know
how much You love us so.
We must never underestimate
or stop to appreciate,
that through these blessings we often grow
to love You even more so!
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
July 6, 1991
This Thanksgiving holiday is filled with poignant reminders of God's Grace and blessings I'd like to share. My church-Albright United Methodist Church in Mishawaka, IN is preparing to move back into the educational building sometime next month. Despite losing our sanctuary in a fire October 4th, we have much to be thankful for. The community we have and continue to serve, has poured forth with help to us. It's been a very humbling experience to be on the receiving end of so much support and love.
There is also the sad fact, we are a nation still at war with terrorists who seek to destroy anything or anyone who stand for God. As of today, the troops remain committed to the course of standing in the gap between the terrorists and the innocents they are trying to protect. When they are able, the soldiers provide Hope to everyone they meet.
With so much sadness in the world, I thought it would be a good idea to reflect on some 'little things' we take for granted. Here's a poem that sheds light on what I mean. God bless and I wish you all a Very Happy Thanksgiving!
Thank God For Little Things That Often Come Our Way!
Thank you God, for little things that often come our way.
The little things we take for granted every day! . . .
The morning's glory as we rise,
which meets our tired, worn out eyes.
The music of the birds we hear,
when we face ourselves in the mirror.
The soul-cleansing bath we take,
when we get a good old coffee break.
The deafening, relentless roar
in traffic, as our tempers soar.
The maddening dash for cash
when the tradepoints flip and crash! . . .
May we never take these for granted,
nor the other blessings we've been handed.
May we always know
how much You love us so.
We must never underestimate
or stop to appreciate,
that through these blessings we often grow
to love You even more so!
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
July 6, 1991
Revival's A Coming!
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
It seems every year about this time, churches the world over focus on what has been accomplished for God in their members' lives. Then they look ahead to what is coming for the new year. They plan and schedule every detail leaving very little room for change.
Sadly in their eagerness, I believe they have left out the most important part of church. Spontaiety. How can the presence of the Holy Spirit going to work with an empty hollow shell? The answer is obvious!
If people are willing to be flexible and adaptable in their Christian walk, the Holy Spirit will move in and begin to fill that empty hollow shell with thankfulness, joy, and Christ's Love. The key part is 'how willing are we to experience change? The kind of change that makes us uncomfortable, out of sorts and yes, a bit fearful.
This poem will (hopefully!) give you an idea of what I mean.
A Brokenhearted Cry
It began a low whisper,
spreading to every brother and sister.
Awakening as it rolled,
the heart of every spirit and soul.
Seeking to renew
our every longing for You.
Its purpose can not be curbed,
nor will its mission swerve.
Can you uncover its mask?
"What is it?," you ask.
It's a burning desire,
to kindle revival's fire.
All across the land,
you can feel its mighty hand,
pushing its way,
demanding to stay,
unwilling to bend,
until you defend!
With a broken hearted cry,
I ask, "Who is on the Lord's Side?"
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
February 12, 1992
It seems every year about this time, churches the world over focus on what has been accomplished for God in their members' lives. Then they look ahead to what is coming for the new year. They plan and schedule every detail leaving very little room for change.
Sadly in their eagerness, I believe they have left out the most important part of church. Spontaiety. How can the presence of the Holy Spirit going to work with an empty hollow shell? The answer is obvious!
If people are willing to be flexible and adaptable in their Christian walk, the Holy Spirit will move in and begin to fill that empty hollow shell with thankfulness, joy, and Christ's Love. The key part is 'how willing are we to experience change? The kind of change that makes us uncomfortable, out of sorts and yes, a bit fearful.
This poem will (hopefully!) give you an idea of what I mean.
A Brokenhearted Cry
It began a low whisper,
spreading to every brother and sister.
Awakening as it rolled,
the heart of every spirit and soul.
Seeking to renew
our every longing for You.
Its purpose can not be curbed,
nor will its mission swerve.
Can you uncover its mask?
"What is it?," you ask.
It's a burning desire,
to kindle revival's fire.
All across the land,
you can feel its mighty hand,
pushing its way,
demanding to stay,
unwilling to bend,
until you defend!
With a broken hearted cry,
I ask, "Who is on the Lord's Side?"
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
February 12, 1992
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
In Appreciation of Pastors, Part Two
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
What would Pastor Appreciation Month be without acknowledging the unsung heroes behind those in the pulpit? I mean, of course, the spouses. Specifically, Pastors' wives. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for all that you sacrifice in the name of ministry. Though the poem I've included is written with wives in mind; it is applicable to both genders. God bless you and know you are always in my prayers.
Pastors' Wives:
A Heart Full of Love
A Pastor's wife is gentle and kind,
and always willing to give of her time,
by letting her husband help someone desperate in need.
No reward does she get for this honorable deed.
Though her life is very lonely at times,
as she supports her husband in prayer, God's Love shines.
Her strength keeps the family growing,
even when illness is slowing
down their life walk, to a crawl
one can see, they still remain true to God's call.
With each impression their heart makes
one can hear the resounding cry, "I've done it for Christ's sake!"
Written on:
August 26, 1994
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
&
Mildred A. Baker
Scripture Reference:
Proverbs 31:10-31
What would Pastor Appreciation Month be without acknowledging the unsung heroes behind those in the pulpit? I mean, of course, the spouses. Specifically, Pastors' wives. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for all that you sacrifice in the name of ministry. Though the poem I've included is written with wives in mind; it is applicable to both genders. God bless you and know you are always in my prayers.
Pastors' Wives:
A Heart Full of Love
A Pastor's wife is gentle and kind,
and always willing to give of her time,
by letting her husband help someone desperate in need.
No reward does she get for this honorable deed.
Though her life is very lonely at times,
as she supports her husband in prayer, God's Love shines.
Her strength keeps the family growing,
even when illness is slowing
down their life walk, to a crawl
one can see, they still remain true to God's call.
With each impression their heart makes
one can hear the resounding cry, "I've done it for Christ's sake!"
Written on:
August 26, 1994
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
&
Mildred A. Baker
Scripture Reference:
Proverbs 31:10-31
In Appreciation of Pastors, Part One
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
October is Pastor Appreciation Month. I thought it appropriate to include something encouraging for all the Pastoral Staff serving Christ around the world. Here is a poem I wrote a few years ago that sums up thoughts on ministry from a Pastor's perspective. God bless all of you! You are in my prayers.
Pastors:
Always Seeking To Do God's Best
"Dear Father, this week I learned
if I continue to yearn,
for the approval of men,
I would not come to depend,
on what is the Will of God
but on mine, as I traverse life's sod.
Help me to remember,
I am Your child forever!
That I need not feel trapped or constrained,
nor without Your strength, though mine is drained.
Help my flock to understand, and not take offense
when I must follow Your Word, and commence
to confront those who commit to do wrong,
and who refuse to turn aside their wrath, replacing it instead, with Love which suffers long.
If there is one thing I could do to reach
the lost and my flock, it would be to teach
them, "and now abide faith, hope, and love,
these three; but the greatest of these is love."
Father, as I seek to do my best,
I know You will do the rest,
and may this ever be my song to sing,
"Jesus, You are Abba, Daddy, Father, Lord of Lords and King of Kings! Amen.'"
Written on:
August 28, 1994.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Scripture Reference:
I Corinthians 13:13
October is Pastor Appreciation Month. I thought it appropriate to include something encouraging for all the Pastoral Staff serving Christ around the world. Here is a poem I wrote a few years ago that sums up thoughts on ministry from a Pastor's perspective. God bless all of you! You are in my prayers.
Pastors:
Always Seeking To Do God's Best
"Dear Father, this week I learned
if I continue to yearn,
for the approval of men,
I would not come to depend,
on what is the Will of God
but on mine, as I traverse life's sod.
Help me to remember,
I am Your child forever!
That I need not feel trapped or constrained,
nor without Your strength, though mine is drained.
Help my flock to understand, and not take offense
when I must follow Your Word, and commence
to confront those who commit to do wrong,
and who refuse to turn aside their wrath, replacing it instead, with Love which suffers long.
If there is one thing I could do to reach
the lost and my flock, it would be to teach
them, "and now abide faith, hope, and love,
these three; but the greatest of these is love."
Father, as I seek to do my best,
I know You will do the rest,
and may this ever be my song to sing,
"Jesus, You are Abba, Daddy, Father, Lord of Lords and King of Kings! Amen.'"
Written on:
August 28, 1994.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Scripture Reference:
I Corinthians 13:13
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Clearing Away the Clutter
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
How many of us go through life carrying habits, attitudes, and memories, like baggage? 'Clutter' comes in many forms. Past wrongs, and misdeeds we'd like to make amends for. Or, the 'clutter' of old papers, trash and junkmail. If we were to think abut it, the changes that come abruptly into our lives through death, divorce, circumstances, environment or other causes could also be considered 'clutter'.
All concept of waiting has been virtually eliminated from society's culture. We live in an instant, 'I want it now' mindset where everything at every turn must be accomplished immediately. From fast food restaurants to drive-thru grocery stores 'clutter' fills our lives.
As part of the creative process, a writer or an artist will methodically clear a space, wash dishes or remove obstacles from his/her way in preparation for beginning a project.
That is the same way we tend to treat God. We believe if we clean up our lives first we can then approach Him as an equal, not as someone who needs a Savior to clean him/her of sin.
To rid ourselves of all the 'clutter' in our lives we must first recognize there is nothing we can do on our own merits to accomplish this. It can only happen when we accept the 'hand up' offered by God through His Son, Jesus Christ. Through Christ's death, burial and resurrection we have access to God "by grace [we] have been saved through faith; and that not of [our] selves, it is the gift of God, not as a result of works, so that no one may boast." (Ephesians 2:8-9, NASB)
Clearing the 'clutter' this way, is an act not only of faith but of surrender as well. When we surrender our lives (dirty, unkempt, marginally clean or spotlessly perceived), to Christ He will work (moment by moment, hour by hour or day by day) to teach us how to live better.
Just as an artist or writer works in conjunction with an editor or an agent to polish and refine their skills, so Jesus will cleanse, polish and refine us. One mess at a time. This transformation isn't instant or immediate but a life-long sifting process to eliminate the baggage of old habits, problems and/or negative influences that hinder our growth to full maturity.
The most important thing God wants us to remember as we persevere through life: Hope is always available if we look up and reach out to take hold of it. Perhaps this poem will help everybody to see that.
Come Walk With Me Through Life's Journey
From the dark recessed corners of my mind
they came, like specters, one memory at a time.
Taunting, tormenting and accusing me
of failures, mistakes I'd made, like chains dragging me down eternally.
Grim reminders of a scarred and battered soul
that longed to be clean and whole.
As I huddled in fright,
suddenly I was bathed in iridescent white light
and a voice called to me,"My Child, come here
there is no need to cower in fear.
When I died on Calvary's tree
it was humanity's face I saw before Me.
I gave My life in sacrifice
so you would have the Gift of Eternal Life!
These specters of your past have no power over you
for My Blood covers you."
When understanding dawned
I knew then that all along
God had been there
and I was safely in His care.
He will walk with me hand in hand
as together we faced life's demands
and I would grow in His Grace
as He stretched my faith.
I lift my voice to sing,
Thank you Jesus, you are Lord of Lords and King of Kings!"
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
January 7, 2005
How many of us go through life carrying habits, attitudes, and memories, like baggage? 'Clutter' comes in many forms. Past wrongs, and misdeeds we'd like to make amends for. Or, the 'clutter' of old papers, trash and junkmail. If we were to think abut it, the changes that come abruptly into our lives through death, divorce, circumstances, environment or other causes could also be considered 'clutter'.
All concept of waiting has been virtually eliminated from society's culture. We live in an instant, 'I want it now' mindset where everything at every turn must be accomplished immediately. From fast food restaurants to drive-thru grocery stores 'clutter' fills our lives.
As part of the creative process, a writer or an artist will methodically clear a space, wash dishes or remove obstacles from his/her way in preparation for beginning a project.
That is the same way we tend to treat God. We believe if we clean up our lives first we can then approach Him as an equal, not as someone who needs a Savior to clean him/her of sin.
To rid ourselves of all the 'clutter' in our lives we must first recognize there is nothing we can do on our own merits to accomplish this. It can only happen when we accept the 'hand up' offered by God through His Son, Jesus Christ. Through Christ's death, burial and resurrection we have access to God "by grace [we] have been saved through faith; and that not of [our] selves, it is the gift of God, not as a result of works, so that no one may boast." (Ephesians 2:8-9, NASB)
Clearing the 'clutter' this way, is an act not only of faith but of surrender as well. When we surrender our lives (dirty, unkempt, marginally clean or spotlessly perceived), to Christ He will work (moment by moment, hour by hour or day by day) to teach us how to live better.
Just as an artist or writer works in conjunction with an editor or an agent to polish and refine their skills, so Jesus will cleanse, polish and refine us. One mess at a time. This transformation isn't instant or immediate but a life-long sifting process to eliminate the baggage of old habits, problems and/or negative influences that hinder our growth to full maturity.
The most important thing God wants us to remember as we persevere through life: Hope is always available if we look up and reach out to take hold of it. Perhaps this poem will help everybody to see that.
Come Walk With Me Through Life's Journey
From the dark recessed corners of my mind
they came, like specters, one memory at a time.
Taunting, tormenting and accusing me
of failures, mistakes I'd made, like chains dragging me down eternally.
Grim reminders of a scarred and battered soul
that longed to be clean and whole.
As I huddled in fright,
suddenly I was bathed in iridescent white light
and a voice called to me,"My Child, come here
there is no need to cower in fear.
When I died on Calvary's tree
it was humanity's face I saw before Me.
I gave My life in sacrifice
so you would have the Gift of Eternal Life!
These specters of your past have no power over you
for My Blood covers you."
When understanding dawned
I knew then that all along
God had been there
and I was safely in His care.
He will walk with me hand in hand
as together we faced life's demands
and I would grow in His Grace
as He stretched my faith.
I lift my voice to sing,
Thank you Jesus, you are Lord of Lords and King of Kings!"
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
January 7, 2005
Thursday, October 19, 2006
The Heavenly Father's Example of Fatherhood
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
"I wish I hadn't given him up." sighed my Dad. Regrets, wishes, and hopes were the unspoken dreams my Dad expressed in his last days. How many of us would give everything we possessed to have one last chance to make amends? It's been three years since Dad died and still his words haunt me.
When Dad was a young man, he and his wife at the time, made a tough decision to give up their child for adoption. Dad knew it was the right thing to do. They couldn't provide for him because of circumstances and financial problems. That doesn't mean it was an easy decision to make then . . . or now.
In a perfect world, parents would never make mistakes, grow old or die. But, we don't live in a perfect world. As I gave him care during his last days, I learned to see my Dad as a human being. He had feet of clay, didn't live on a pedestal and simply loved . . . me. The life he lived was checkered with poor choices, snap decisions, vices and health problems. However, these things shaped who he became. I don't know much about his relationship with his own parents, except what I heard in passing from his siblings. I do know for a fact, the one thing he never regretted was pouring all of his love into me. Maybe he thought he could make amends for everything else, if he showered me with all the attention he never gave my brothers. (Including the one I didn't know about.) I know he loved them deeply, he just never knew how to show it in a positive way. Dad's gone and only God knows the truth now.
What I do believe is that in His own way, through the little details I most often overlooked, Dad loved me.
As a father, God did the same for his son, Jesus. While God gave Jesus life, He couldn't be present physically to teach Jesus how to make a living with His hands. Or take Jesus to His first service at the local synogogue. So, God did something wonderful. He gave Jesus two incredible parents, Joseph and Mary, to simply love him.
That's why I wrote the following poem. To share with everyone how much God loves us, and that the Heavenly Father's example of fatherhood is something everybody can do: love your children.
Father to Son, Son to Father
Holding Heaven in his hands,
Joseph struggled to understand,
how a little baby boy could be
the answer to save all hunanity.
'How was he, a humble carpenter from Nazareth, supposed to teach
Yahweh's Son, to preach?'
Caressing Jesus' face with his callused fingertips
Joseph marveled at the hunger in the boy's eyes
as gut-piercing cries
spilled from His lips.
Silently, Joseph wondered,
'How would sin's curse be sundered?'
Thirty years later, Jesus sat by a dying Joseph's bedside
and described to him what would happen after Joseph died.
"The depths of God's Love will reach down from Heaven above
erasing the boundaries of time and space
proving nothing compares to the infinite span of God's Grace."
then Joseph reaching out, blessed Jesus, "My Son, may the Light of God's Grace shine upon you. May you always bring honor to your Heavenly Father."
When Joseph breathed his last and first breath, Jesus gathered him into His arms and cried, "Abba! Father!"
Then Jesus wept.
Three years later, Jesus kept
His word. And today we know the impact Joseph had on Jesus' life,
how communion with God came about because of Jesus' sacrifice.
Storm-tossed and buffeted on every side
we still need to tell others Jesus is Alive!
Then we too, like Joseph,can rejoice
with a loud voice
as we sing,
"Praise and Thank you Jesus, for You are Lord of Lords and King of Kings!"
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
May 3, 2006
"I wish I hadn't given him up." sighed my Dad. Regrets, wishes, and hopes were the unspoken dreams my Dad expressed in his last days. How many of us would give everything we possessed to have one last chance to make amends? It's been three years since Dad died and still his words haunt me.
When Dad was a young man, he and his wife at the time, made a tough decision to give up their child for adoption. Dad knew it was the right thing to do. They couldn't provide for him because of circumstances and financial problems. That doesn't mean it was an easy decision to make then . . . or now.
In a perfect world, parents would never make mistakes, grow old or die. But, we don't live in a perfect world. As I gave him care during his last days, I learned to see my Dad as a human being. He had feet of clay, didn't live on a pedestal and simply loved . . . me. The life he lived was checkered with poor choices, snap decisions, vices and health problems. However, these things shaped who he became. I don't know much about his relationship with his own parents, except what I heard in passing from his siblings. I do know for a fact, the one thing he never regretted was pouring all of his love into me. Maybe he thought he could make amends for everything else, if he showered me with all the attention he never gave my brothers. (Including the one I didn't know about.) I know he loved them deeply, he just never knew how to show it in a positive way. Dad's gone and only God knows the truth now.
What I do believe is that in His own way, through the little details I most often overlooked, Dad loved me.
As a father, God did the same for his son, Jesus. While God gave Jesus life, He couldn't be present physically to teach Jesus how to make a living with His hands. Or take Jesus to His first service at the local synogogue. So, God did something wonderful. He gave Jesus two incredible parents, Joseph and Mary, to simply love him.
That's why I wrote the following poem. To share with everyone how much God loves us, and that the Heavenly Father's example of fatherhood is something everybody can do: love your children.
Father to Son, Son to Father
Holding Heaven in his hands,
Joseph struggled to understand,
how a little baby boy could be
the answer to save all hunanity.
'How was he, a humble carpenter from Nazareth, supposed to teach
Yahweh's Son, to preach?'
Caressing Jesus' face with his callused fingertips
Joseph marveled at the hunger in the boy's eyes
as gut-piercing cries
spilled from His lips.
Silently, Joseph wondered,
'How would sin's curse be sundered?'
Thirty years later, Jesus sat by a dying Joseph's bedside
and described to him what would happen after Joseph died.
"The depths of God's Love will reach down from Heaven above
erasing the boundaries of time and space
proving nothing compares to the infinite span of God's Grace."
then Joseph reaching out, blessed Jesus, "My Son, may the Light of God's Grace shine upon you. May you always bring honor to your Heavenly Father."
When Joseph breathed his last and first breath, Jesus gathered him into His arms and cried, "Abba! Father!"
Then Jesus wept.
Three years later, Jesus kept
His word. And today we know the impact Joseph had on Jesus' life,
how communion with God came about because of Jesus' sacrifice.
Storm-tossed and buffeted on every side
we still need to tell others Jesus is Alive!
Then we too, like Joseph,can rejoice
with a loud voice
as we sing,
"Praise and Thank you Jesus, for You are Lord of Lords and King of Kings!"
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
May 3, 2006
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Faith: The Evidence of Things Not Seen
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
A little over a week ago, my church-Albright United Methodist Church in Mishawaka, IN-lost its sanctuary to a fire. So much has happened that it still seems surreal to see the damage when I go by the location. Sunday services on October 8, 2006 were held at Battell Park across the street from the sanctuary. I attended the first service at 8:30 a.m. and witnessed more than one person glancing over, then with a dazed expression, turn back to focus on Pastor Dennis' sermon.
Seeing in the Dark
Over the course of this week, more than one person has asked questions like, 'Why would a just God allow this injustice to His people?' or 'Did God send this fire as a judgement for sin in the church?' or 'What about all the hype that people are supposed to experience prosperity when they become a Christian?' I have to be honest here. I don't know how to answer someone else's questions much less find ones for my own. I mean, when good things happen to bad people, I become outraged just like anyone else. Yet, when bad things happen to good people, doubt, fear, anger and confusion take over. Okay, I imagine I know what you're thinking. Something like, 'That's not how a Christian should respond to suffering.' Why not?
Faith, like Grace isn't a one-time offering or experience, it is a continual expression of placing your trust in God to see you through a situation. The key word to remember here is 'through'. Through good times and bad, prosperity or poverty, illness or good health, environment or circumstances, God wants a sin-darkened world to see the evidence of His Presence displayed through the faith of His people. God uses any method or experience to stretch a soul's faith in Him. To ask this question, just as Philip Yancey, in his book, 'The Bible Jesus Read' does, 'Can a person believe God for no other reason than, . . . for no reason at all?'
One of my favorite Bible stories from the Old Testament has to do with three men. Their names are Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. These guys were high profile Jews, members of the Persian King Nebuchanezzer's gubernatorial council. Kind of like President Bush's Cabinet ministers today. To put it in layman's terms, King Neb, he let all the power he had swell his pride. He began to think he was even a god. Pretty serious stuff.
Well, one day, King Neb decided to build an idol of himself. He ordered all of his people including his gubernatorial council to bow down and worship this idol. Well, Don't you know, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego refused to worship any god except their own: God. Their reward for believing God for no other reason than, well . . . no reason at all? King Neb was so furious he tied them up and threw them into a hot, fiery furnace. Almost instantly, King Neb noticed something unusual. In astonishment, he said, "I see four men loose in the midst of the fire and they have no hurt; and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God." (Daniel 3:25, KJV)
Now, when King Neb called to them, the three guys exited the furnace, their clothes were intact, they had no burns, and they didn't smell like smoke. Pretty amazing, huh? It's a true story. The point is, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego had faith that "the God we worship can save us from [King Neb's] flaming furnace. But even if He doesn't, we still won't worship [any other] gods." (Daniel 3:16,CEV)
What About Today?
The fire at Albright United Methodist Church affected many people. One that stands out in my mind is a member whose family has been attending Albright's for over 30 years. During a women's retreat this past weekend, she related this story.
As she stood watching the fire consume the sanctuary, one thought, one breath prayer, kept going through her mind. 'Lord, Daddy's picture of Jesus, ( the one he painted, with Him standing at the garden door, knocking, waiting to be let in, with the doorknob on the inside) is gone. Oh, Lord.'
Four days laterat the women's retreat, the lady listened in shock as another member described the find.
"The day after the fire was out, a firefighter approached one of the Pastors and asked him to follow. The firefighter led the Pastor into the charred remnant of the sanctuary. Bending down, the firefighter brushed aside some rubble to reveal . . . the picture of Jesus. The firefighter lifted it out and said, "I thought you might like to have this." The Pastor wiped the soot off the glass with a rag, and stared in disbelief. It was completely intact, with no smoke or water damage to its frame or contents."
The lady remarked, "You mean Daddy's picture survived the fire?" After the other woman nodded yes. The lady wept.
What's the point? God displayed evidence of His Presence through the fire, not around, under, past or over it. I've found that is the only way to get to the other side. Sometimes, I wish I knew the answer to why there is so much pain and upheaval in life. What I do know (and believe) is that God will walk with us through the fire.
Hope for Tomorrow
It is inHis perceived absence as well as in His Presence that people see the evidence God exists, the most. Each person meets God at a different point in their walk with Him. It is through life, with all its lemons that we do, say, and become faithful servants of God. What will be our response when storms come upon us?
A very long time ago, at the edge of a primeval forest, laid a meadow. Its boundary was marked by a wide, flowing river. At the edge of the forest stood an old oak tree, its arms waving majestically to the sky. Along the river's banks, stood slim willow and cattail reeds.
One day, stormclouds built in the sky. With a mighty thunderous roar, wind and rain ponded down to the earth. The willow reeds bent, slapped, and hummed in the blinding fierce gale. The old oak tree sank its roots down deep, as it braced itself against the wind.
Suddenly, a tremendous CRACK! split the air. With a scream of pain, the oak fell with a loud crash to the ground. Time passed. The storm drifted off and the world was right again. And yet, as the air grew still, gasps could be heard from the woodland creatures.
The old oak tree, laid broken and dying on the ground. While the willow and cattail reeds, straightened, as they shook off the remaining droplets of water. They were strong and resilient as ever.
What type of faith do you want to be known for?
Heaven's Music
In this world, there's too much sorrow, too much fear
In order for God's Grace to appear
Heaven's music must be heard
through the revelation of Jesus, found in God's Word.
And just as all of nature sings in perfect harmony
so too can humanity when Jesus calls, "Follow Me."
The question he asks each of us is, "Will you surrender your life
to tell others I AM alive?"
From the birds singing in the trees
to saints bowed, praying, on their knees
to a child's laugh or the wind as it moans thru a mountain pass
Heaven's music, like streams of living water, flows fast
and only the bravest can tread to safety
when one places their trust in God not, "if, and, or maybe."
Only then will one remember
in the silent, still moments Jesus is near
and the bleak darkness of one's life rolls back to hear,
Heaven's music is everywhere!
Then this song of praise will lift one's heart to sing,
"Thank you Jesus, for You are Lord of Lords and King of Kings!"
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
May 23, 2006
If you would like more information about Albright United Methodist Church, you can visit their web page at www.gbgm-umc.org/albright-mishawaka/
Also, I would like to recommend some books for those who enjoy reading.
They are:
'The Bible Jesus Read' by Philip Yancey
and
'Hadassah: One Night with The King' by Tommy Tenney
And for anyone looking for a great date movie, I recommend:
One Night With The King, opening nationwide, Friday 13, 2006. It is a wonderful movie based on the above listed book by Tommy Tenney.
Also, I recommend for viewing:
The Second Chance, now out on video and DVD. It features Michael W. Smith as one of the principle players.
I leave you with this verse:
"When you walk through fire . . . . the flame shall not consume you." (Isaiah 43:2-3, NRSV) Emphasis mine.
A little over a week ago, my church-Albright United Methodist Church in Mishawaka, IN-lost its sanctuary to a fire. So much has happened that it still seems surreal to see the damage when I go by the location. Sunday services on October 8, 2006 were held at Battell Park across the street from the sanctuary. I attended the first service at 8:30 a.m. and witnessed more than one person glancing over, then with a dazed expression, turn back to focus on Pastor Dennis' sermon.
Seeing in the Dark
Over the course of this week, more than one person has asked questions like, 'Why would a just God allow this injustice to His people?' or 'Did God send this fire as a judgement for sin in the church?' or 'What about all the hype that people are supposed to experience prosperity when they become a Christian?' I have to be honest here. I don't know how to answer someone else's questions much less find ones for my own. I mean, when good things happen to bad people, I become outraged just like anyone else. Yet, when bad things happen to good people, doubt, fear, anger and confusion take over. Okay, I imagine I know what you're thinking. Something like, 'That's not how a Christian should respond to suffering.' Why not?
Faith, like Grace isn't a one-time offering or experience, it is a continual expression of placing your trust in God to see you through a situation. The key word to remember here is 'through'. Through good times and bad, prosperity or poverty, illness or good health, environment or circumstances, God wants a sin-darkened world to see the evidence of His Presence displayed through the faith of His people. God uses any method or experience to stretch a soul's faith in Him. To ask this question, just as Philip Yancey, in his book, 'The Bible Jesus Read' does, 'Can a person believe God for no other reason than, . . . for no reason at all?'
One of my favorite Bible stories from the Old Testament has to do with three men. Their names are Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. These guys were high profile Jews, members of the Persian King Nebuchanezzer's gubernatorial council. Kind of like President Bush's Cabinet ministers today. To put it in layman's terms, King Neb, he let all the power he had swell his pride. He began to think he was even a god. Pretty serious stuff.
Well, one day, King Neb decided to build an idol of himself. He ordered all of his people including his gubernatorial council to bow down and worship this idol. Well, Don't you know, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego refused to worship any god except their own: God. Their reward for believing God for no other reason than, well . . . no reason at all? King Neb was so furious he tied them up and threw them into a hot, fiery furnace. Almost instantly, King Neb noticed something unusual. In astonishment, he said, "I see four men loose in the midst of the fire and they have no hurt; and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God." (Daniel 3:25, KJV)
Now, when King Neb called to them, the three guys exited the furnace, their clothes were intact, they had no burns, and they didn't smell like smoke. Pretty amazing, huh? It's a true story. The point is, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego had faith that "the God we worship can save us from [King Neb's] flaming furnace. But even if He doesn't, we still won't worship [any other] gods." (Daniel 3:16,CEV)
What About Today?
The fire at Albright United Methodist Church affected many people. One that stands out in my mind is a member whose family has been attending Albright's for over 30 years. During a women's retreat this past weekend, she related this story.
As she stood watching the fire consume the sanctuary, one thought, one breath prayer, kept going through her mind. 'Lord, Daddy's picture of Jesus, ( the one he painted, with Him standing at the garden door, knocking, waiting to be let in, with the doorknob on the inside) is gone. Oh, Lord.'
Four days laterat the women's retreat, the lady listened in shock as another member described the find.
"The day after the fire was out, a firefighter approached one of the Pastors and asked him to follow. The firefighter led the Pastor into the charred remnant of the sanctuary. Bending down, the firefighter brushed aside some rubble to reveal . . . the picture of Jesus. The firefighter lifted it out and said, "I thought you might like to have this." The Pastor wiped the soot off the glass with a rag, and stared in disbelief. It was completely intact, with no smoke or water damage to its frame or contents."
The lady remarked, "You mean Daddy's picture survived the fire?" After the other woman nodded yes. The lady wept.
What's the point? God displayed evidence of His Presence through the fire, not around, under, past or over it. I've found that is the only way to get to the other side. Sometimes, I wish I knew the answer to why there is so much pain and upheaval in life. What I do know (and believe) is that God will walk with us through the fire.
Hope for Tomorrow
It is inHis perceived absence as well as in His Presence that people see the evidence God exists, the most. Each person meets God at a different point in their walk with Him. It is through life, with all its lemons that we do, say, and become faithful servants of God. What will be our response when storms come upon us?
A very long time ago, at the edge of a primeval forest, laid a meadow. Its boundary was marked by a wide, flowing river. At the edge of the forest stood an old oak tree, its arms waving majestically to the sky. Along the river's banks, stood slim willow and cattail reeds.
One day, stormclouds built in the sky. With a mighty thunderous roar, wind and rain ponded down to the earth. The willow reeds bent, slapped, and hummed in the blinding fierce gale. The old oak tree sank its roots down deep, as it braced itself against the wind.
Suddenly, a tremendous CRACK! split the air. With a scream of pain, the oak fell with a loud crash to the ground. Time passed. The storm drifted off and the world was right again. And yet, as the air grew still, gasps could be heard from the woodland creatures.
The old oak tree, laid broken and dying on the ground. While the willow and cattail reeds, straightened, as they shook off the remaining droplets of water. They were strong and resilient as ever.
What type of faith do you want to be known for?
Heaven's Music
In this world, there's too much sorrow, too much fear
In order for God's Grace to appear
Heaven's music must be heard
through the revelation of Jesus, found in God's Word.
And just as all of nature sings in perfect harmony
so too can humanity when Jesus calls, "Follow Me."
The question he asks each of us is, "Will you surrender your life
to tell others I AM alive?"
From the birds singing in the trees
to saints bowed, praying, on their knees
to a child's laugh or the wind as it moans thru a mountain pass
Heaven's music, like streams of living water, flows fast
and only the bravest can tread to safety
when one places their trust in God not, "if, and, or maybe."
Only then will one remember
in the silent, still moments Jesus is near
and the bleak darkness of one's life rolls back to hear,
Heaven's music is everywhere!
Then this song of praise will lift one's heart to sing,
"Thank you Jesus, for You are Lord of Lords and King of Kings!"
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
May 23, 2006
If you would like more information about Albright United Methodist Church, you can visit their web page at www.gbgm-umc.org/albright-mishawaka/
Also, I would like to recommend some books for those who enjoy reading.
They are:
'The Bible Jesus Read' by Philip Yancey
and
'Hadassah: One Night with The King' by Tommy Tenney
And for anyone looking for a great date movie, I recommend:
One Night With The King, opening nationwide, Friday 13, 2006. It is a wonderful movie based on the above listed book by Tommy Tenney.
Also, I recommend for viewing:
The Second Chance, now out on video and DVD. It features Michael W. Smith as one of the principle players.
I leave you with this verse:
"When you walk through fire . . . . the flame shall not consume you." (Isaiah 43:2-3, NRSV) Emphasis mine.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Bite-Size Chunks of Grace
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
In this world, everyone assumes contentment comes from having possessions and doing something important in one's life. An "I want it now" or "before now" mental attitude or expectation is the most common reaction to having to wait.
However, waiting is most often God's answer to prayer, and to our expectations. Waiting produces patience, and let's face it, humanity sorely lacks patience right now. For example, my church-Albright United Methodist Church in Mishawaka, IN, is learning firsthand what it means to wait. On October 2, 2006, as a severe thunderstorm rolled through the area, a lightning bolt from the storm struck the church sanctuary. Within minutes, the sanctuary was on fire. Flames shot 30 feet into the air, as the monster fire reduced the building to rubble. Word spread to the congregation just as quickly, and people began to gather. Within the hour hundreds of parishioners, neighbors, and fellow churches in the area knew about the fire. It took the fire department 12 hours to put it out and keep it from spreading to other buildings. By the next morning, everyone in the area counties knew or thought they knew what would happen next. People thought we would fold up and die. They were wrong.
By Tuesday night, a mobile food pantry truck pulled into the parking lot across from the shell of the sanctuary.Between 15-20 people showed up to help distribute food to the needy. Passersby were heard to remark, " I don't get it. Their church is gone, but they are still serving the needy. Don't they know they are the needy?"
My Pastors just smiled. One parishioner said, "We will rebuild the building. But the most important part of a church is still here. The people, that is what is important. Things are just things. But the people are the church and we will remain a church as long as we remember who we serve: Jesus Christ our Lord."
I can testify to that. Through the black plumes of smoke pouring forth from the sanctuary, one sound could be heard, that even the fire in all its rage could not quench, could not even come close to. "What was it?" you ask. It was the fervency of the prayers lifting as incense to the heavens, permeating the air before the throne of God.
And so like the Apostle Paul says in Phillippians 4:11-13, "I have learned in whatever state I am in, to be content. I have learned to be without and to abound that the power of Christ may be fully expressed through my life. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."
Flexibility+Adaptability=Grace above and beyond what we need. That is the equation of contentment. Grace isn't a one-time offering, it is a continual outpouring of God's Love and Mercy.
Just when you think you can't take one more moment of pain or suffering because the struggle to adapt seems too difficult, that is when "God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble." (James 4:6, NKJV) God will give you the strength for one more moment, (another 60 seconds, 10 minutes, or 1 hour) at a time. Then when you get through that chunk of time, God will give you the amount of Grace you need for the next chunk and so on.
Life is hard but God's Grace resonates even stronger and will sustain you if, you accept the situation, willing to roll with the punches, instead of bracing yourself against them.
In this world, everyone assumes contentment comes from having possessions and doing something important in one's life. An "I want it now" or "before now" mental attitude or expectation is the most common reaction to having to wait.
However, waiting is most often God's answer to prayer, and to our expectations. Waiting produces patience, and let's face it, humanity sorely lacks patience right now. For example, my church-Albright United Methodist Church in Mishawaka, IN, is learning firsthand what it means to wait. On October 2, 2006, as a severe thunderstorm rolled through the area, a lightning bolt from the storm struck the church sanctuary. Within minutes, the sanctuary was on fire. Flames shot 30 feet into the air, as the monster fire reduced the building to rubble. Word spread to the congregation just as quickly, and people began to gather. Within the hour hundreds of parishioners, neighbors, and fellow churches in the area knew about the fire. It took the fire department 12 hours to put it out and keep it from spreading to other buildings. By the next morning, everyone in the area counties knew or thought they knew what would happen next. People thought we would fold up and die. They were wrong.
By Tuesday night, a mobile food pantry truck pulled into the parking lot across from the shell of the sanctuary.Between 15-20 people showed up to help distribute food to the needy. Passersby were heard to remark, " I don't get it. Their church is gone, but they are still serving the needy. Don't they know they are the needy?"
My Pastors just smiled. One parishioner said, "We will rebuild the building. But the most important part of a church is still here. The people, that is what is important. Things are just things. But the people are the church and we will remain a church as long as we remember who we serve: Jesus Christ our Lord."
I can testify to that. Through the black plumes of smoke pouring forth from the sanctuary, one sound could be heard, that even the fire in all its rage could not quench, could not even come close to. "What was it?" you ask. It was the fervency of the prayers lifting as incense to the heavens, permeating the air before the throne of God.
And so like the Apostle Paul says in Phillippians 4:11-13, "I have learned in whatever state I am in, to be content. I have learned to be without and to abound that the power of Christ may be fully expressed through my life. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."
Flexibility+Adaptability=Grace above and beyond what we need. That is the equation of contentment. Grace isn't a one-time offering, it is a continual outpouring of God's Love and Mercy.
Just when you think you can't take one more moment of pain or suffering because the struggle to adapt seems too difficult, that is when "God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble." (James 4:6, NKJV) God will give you the strength for one more moment, (another 60 seconds, 10 minutes, or 1 hour) at a time. Then when you get through that chunk of time, God will give you the amount of Grace you need for the next chunk and so on.
Life is hard but God's Grace resonates even stronger and will sustain you if, you accept the situation, willing to roll with the punches, instead of bracing yourself against them.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
The Warrior's Way
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
When I think of war I imagine, like most people, it will never happen here or in my lifetime. I don't know why, I suppose that attitude comes from society's belief that humans are invulnerable, immune to harm. I've discovered that particular belief is a bald-faced lie.
History teaches that humanity's sense of right or wrong, its "moral compass" has constantly been corrupted, distorted and broken resulting in repetitive acts of war on humanity's weaker members. The people humanity deems unworthy or undeserved of life.
The reality is just the opposite. The people deemed unfit for "society's" idea of perfection are the very individuals God gave the abilities to guide and lead in times of crises. Ironic, isn't it?
When a soldier goes to war he/she is hailed as a hero; clapped on the back and told America is proud of the service him/her rendered to the country. However, when the soldier comes home he/she joins the ranks of all the others whom history would rather forget. The reason, if any is actually given for this disregard, is that the adjustment a soldier goes through while transitioning to civilian life is awkward at best, and frightening at worst. The most difficult said adjustment is, the more embarrassed society becomes at the soldier's inability to be perfect. At that point, society's "moral compass' turns upside down, and the soldier is deemed unworthy by everyone but God.
To the soldier struggling to fit in and find their place in a society that has turned its back on him/her I share these words from Psalms 91:1-2, 15-16
"He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress; My God in Him will I trust. . . . He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him, and show him My salvation."
To God every soldier, whether on the battlefield, or struggling to fit in at home, is loved, wanted, needed and honored not because they chose the warrior's way, but simply because each one is a child of God, created in the image of God. Each soldier is considered one of his special joys. Never forget as you read this, like the poem I'm ending this article with says, "God will never leave you nor forsake you."
The Warrior King-a soldier's psalm
When the cover of night closes 'round about me,
and I hear the breath of mine enemy,
the Warrior King on high,
protects me.
When the guns explode and strafing fire slices the air over my head
and I am afraid,
the Warrior king on high,
shelters me.
When the burning of the sands
matches the grief I feel over the loss of my comrades,
the Warrior King on high,
comforts me.
When the tormeny of my captors seems endless and I am all alone
longing for Heaven and home,
the Warrior King on high,
reminds me: "My child, you are never alone."
When I returned home
and felt the strangeness of 'where do I belong?'
the Warrior King on high,
encourages me to sing this song,
"The Warrior King
of whom I sing
holds me in His Palm.
He wishes to share with everyone
this Soldier's Psalm!
A promise to all who serve King Jesus
is this,
"'He who perseveres
will no longer have to fear,
for one day wars will cease
and Peace
will reign
when Jesus comes back again.
On that day we will find
longed for hope and serenity of mind'
And in Heaven's house--a home
where all soldiers can have a place to belong and call their own."
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
May 14, 1995
Scripture References:
Psalm 91 & John 14:1-4
When I think of war I imagine, like most people, it will never happen here or in my lifetime. I don't know why, I suppose that attitude comes from society's belief that humans are invulnerable, immune to harm. I've discovered that particular belief is a bald-faced lie.
History teaches that humanity's sense of right or wrong, its "moral compass" has constantly been corrupted, distorted and broken resulting in repetitive acts of war on humanity's weaker members. The people humanity deems unworthy or undeserved of life.
The reality is just the opposite. The people deemed unfit for "society's" idea of perfection are the very individuals God gave the abilities to guide and lead in times of crises. Ironic, isn't it?
When a soldier goes to war he/she is hailed as a hero; clapped on the back and told America is proud of the service him/her rendered to the country. However, when the soldier comes home he/she joins the ranks of all the others whom history would rather forget. The reason, if any is actually given for this disregard, is that the adjustment a soldier goes through while transitioning to civilian life is awkward at best, and frightening at worst. The most difficult said adjustment is, the more embarrassed society becomes at the soldier's inability to be perfect. At that point, society's "moral compass' turns upside down, and the soldier is deemed unworthy by everyone but God.
To the soldier struggling to fit in and find their place in a society that has turned its back on him/her I share these words from Psalms 91:1-2, 15-16
"He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress; My God in Him will I trust. . . . He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him, and show him My salvation."
To God every soldier, whether on the battlefield, or struggling to fit in at home, is loved, wanted, needed and honored not because they chose the warrior's way, but simply because each one is a child of God, created in the image of God. Each soldier is considered one of his special joys. Never forget as you read this, like the poem I'm ending this article with says, "God will never leave you nor forsake you."
The Warrior King-a soldier's psalm
When the cover of night closes 'round about me,
and I hear the breath of mine enemy,
the Warrior King on high,
protects me.
When the guns explode and strafing fire slices the air over my head
and I am afraid,
the Warrior king on high,
shelters me.
When the burning of the sands
matches the grief I feel over the loss of my comrades,
the Warrior King on high,
comforts me.
When the tormeny of my captors seems endless and I am all alone
longing for Heaven and home,
the Warrior King on high,
reminds me: "My child, you are never alone."
When I returned home
and felt the strangeness of 'where do I belong?'
the Warrior King on high,
encourages me to sing this song,
"The Warrior King
of whom I sing
holds me in His Palm.
He wishes to share with everyone
this Soldier's Psalm!
A promise to all who serve King Jesus
is this,
"'He who perseveres
will no longer have to fear,
for one day wars will cease
and Peace
will reign
when Jesus comes back again.
On that day we will find
longed for hope and serenity of mind'
And in Heaven's house--a home
where all soldiers can have a place to belong and call their own."
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
May 14, 1995
Scripture References:
Psalm 91 & John 14:1-4
Thursday, September 14, 2006
9/11, Five Years Later-The Choices One Makes
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
My Personal Recollections
The year 2001 started with the loss of my mom on April 13th. I struggled with the grief and the crippling sense of fear. 'What would I do next?' Any person who has ever given care to another knows the emptiness I felt when mom died. For months I could barely cope with the myriad details of life. It was like I was in a vacuum, unable to see a way out. I grasped at straws looking for some sense of identity separate from the one of caregiver. I spent most of my time occupied with my own needs.
On September 11, 2001 that all changed. I remember sitting down to breakfast, and switching on the remote to NBC afilliate WNDU-Channel 16 to catch the morning news with Katie, Al and Matt. It was 9:00 a.m. The camera focused on the World Trade Center. I remember thinking, 'This picture is wrong. The smoke isn't supposed to be coming out of the top, but from the basement.' For some reason, perhaps my brain's attempt to shield me from the reality, my mind had flashed back instantly to the terrorist bombing in 1993. In the next breath I uttered, "Oh. My. God. No. This is happening right now."
Automatically, I reached for the phone and began calling friends and family. I was on the phone with one of my friends when the north tower fell. My mind latched onto one thought, "Thank God, mom is in Heaven. She would have had a fatal heart attack watching this." The reactions everyone I talked to experienced were mixed, ranging from absolute shock to disbelief to even scorn. Later, most would admit to not knowing how to cope with the fear.
A Glimpse into Evil
Even today, a glimpse of the twin towers of the World Trade Center with smoke billowing from their fractured heights sets my insides to quaking. Instinctively, I want to hide. 'Why?' I wondered. The answer I came up with is simple . . . yet arresting.
The images of the twin towers collapsing, with people screaming as they ran from the debris clouds, hold the same distinction in history now as those of hollow-eyed, emaciated survivors of Hitler's holocaust against Jews, Christians and other oppressed groups. The implied message of these images is chilling; it is one of unadulterated Evil against all that stands for God and good in this world.
No himan being, let alone a single nation, has the strength or courage to confront such a mindset bent on killing. But "if two or three are gathered together in My name, I am there in the midst of them" in battle. (Matthew 18:20, NKJV) United in prayer before God's Throne, a world can and will win against Evil.
A Call to Repentance
The decision then is clear, "If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land." (II Chronicles 7:14, NKJV)
It's been five years since that tragic day when America lost its innocence; its sense of invulnerability to Evil attacking its own shores. America is very much still a nation at war. We live with the uncertainty every day could be our last. President George W. Bush in his address to the nation Monday, September 11th, the fifth anniversary of the attacks, said, "America is safer but not completely safe." So, the choices one makes in life determine what a person's destiny will be. What will you choose?
If you decide you wish to make a profession of faith in Jesus Christ. Then pray and ask, "Jesus, forgive my sins. I choose to trust You with my life and my soul. Please come and live within my heart. I give You the right to lead me and guide me in all things, and I ask You to be my Savior. Thank You, in Jesus' Name, Amen."
An Additional Note:
If you are still searching for answers and not sure whether you can trust Christ to be the answer you are seeking. Contact me through the comments section on this website and we will talk. I will be praying for you.
Here is a poem I wrote several years ago, I hope you enjoy it.
Lightning
Lightning forks slash the sky,
splitting wide the veil between God and I.
His face glows with the Love of a Father,
for His adopted sons and daughters.
as the thunder rolls,
the time of reckoning comes for mankind's souls.
We have been presented with a choice
in the quicksilver flash that follows, will we heed God's voice
and turn from our wicked ways,
to follow Him until the end of our days?
Or will we allow the brevity of time to close
the Door between this world's and God's? Yet only He goes
for the chance still remains,
for us to gain
the Promise of Eternal Life,
through the Gift of His son, Jesus Christ!
When we surrender our lives to Him,
He will gladly forgive and cleanse our sin.
A new creation we will be
for all eternity.
And when the portal again opens and Christ returns to stay,
we will sing with the angels on that Day,
"Jesus Christ is Lord of Lords and King of Kings,
now and forever He reigns!
The Peace that passes all understanding rules our hearts,
filling it with the knowledge He will never depart!"
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
June 2, 1994.
Scripture Reference:
2 Chronicles 7:14 & Matthew 18:20
My Personal Recollections
The year 2001 started with the loss of my mom on April 13th. I struggled with the grief and the crippling sense of fear. 'What would I do next?' Any person who has ever given care to another knows the emptiness I felt when mom died. For months I could barely cope with the myriad details of life. It was like I was in a vacuum, unable to see a way out. I grasped at straws looking for some sense of identity separate from the one of caregiver. I spent most of my time occupied with my own needs.
On September 11, 2001 that all changed. I remember sitting down to breakfast, and switching on the remote to NBC afilliate WNDU-Channel 16 to catch the morning news with Katie, Al and Matt. It was 9:00 a.m. The camera focused on the World Trade Center. I remember thinking, 'This picture is wrong. The smoke isn't supposed to be coming out of the top, but from the basement.' For some reason, perhaps my brain's attempt to shield me from the reality, my mind had flashed back instantly to the terrorist bombing in 1993. In the next breath I uttered, "Oh. My. God. No. This is happening right now."
Automatically, I reached for the phone and began calling friends and family. I was on the phone with one of my friends when the north tower fell. My mind latched onto one thought, "Thank God, mom is in Heaven. She would have had a fatal heart attack watching this." The reactions everyone I talked to experienced were mixed, ranging from absolute shock to disbelief to even scorn. Later, most would admit to not knowing how to cope with the fear.
A Glimpse into Evil
Even today, a glimpse of the twin towers of the World Trade Center with smoke billowing from their fractured heights sets my insides to quaking. Instinctively, I want to hide. 'Why?' I wondered. The answer I came up with is simple . . . yet arresting.
The images of the twin towers collapsing, with people screaming as they ran from the debris clouds, hold the same distinction in history now as those of hollow-eyed, emaciated survivors of Hitler's holocaust against Jews, Christians and other oppressed groups. The implied message of these images is chilling; it is one of unadulterated Evil against all that stands for God and good in this world.
No himan being, let alone a single nation, has the strength or courage to confront such a mindset bent on killing. But "if two or three are gathered together in My name, I am there in the midst of them" in battle. (Matthew 18:20, NKJV) United in prayer before God's Throne, a world can and will win against Evil.
A Call to Repentance
The decision then is clear, "If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land." (II Chronicles 7:14, NKJV)
It's been five years since that tragic day when America lost its innocence; its sense of invulnerability to Evil attacking its own shores. America is very much still a nation at war. We live with the uncertainty every day could be our last. President George W. Bush in his address to the nation Monday, September 11th, the fifth anniversary of the attacks, said, "America is safer but not completely safe." So, the choices one makes in life determine what a person's destiny will be. What will you choose?
If you decide you wish to make a profession of faith in Jesus Christ. Then pray and ask, "Jesus, forgive my sins. I choose to trust You with my life and my soul. Please come and live within my heart. I give You the right to lead me and guide me in all things, and I ask You to be my Savior. Thank You, in Jesus' Name, Amen."
An Additional Note:
If you are still searching for answers and not sure whether you can trust Christ to be the answer you are seeking. Contact me through the comments section on this website and we will talk. I will be praying for you.
Here is a poem I wrote several years ago, I hope you enjoy it.
Lightning
Lightning forks slash the sky,
splitting wide the veil between God and I.
His face glows with the Love of a Father,
for His adopted sons and daughters.
as the thunder rolls,
the time of reckoning comes for mankind's souls.
We have been presented with a choice
in the quicksilver flash that follows, will we heed God's voice
and turn from our wicked ways,
to follow Him until the end of our days?
Or will we allow the brevity of time to close
the Door between this world's and God's? Yet only He goes
for the chance still remains,
for us to gain
the Promise of Eternal Life,
through the Gift of His son, Jesus Christ!
When we surrender our lives to Him,
He will gladly forgive and cleanse our sin.
A new creation we will be
for all eternity.
And when the portal again opens and Christ returns to stay,
we will sing with the angels on that Day,
"Jesus Christ is Lord of Lords and King of Kings,
now and forever He reigns!
The Peace that passes all understanding rules our hearts,
filling it with the knowledge He will never depart!"
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
June 2, 1994.
Scripture Reference:
2 Chronicles 7:14 & Matthew 18:20
Thursday, September 07, 2006
A Bit of End of Summer Fun
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
Everyone I know has experienced a rough week so I've decided on a change of pace for my column. Here is a taste of summer to keep my readers happy until next year. Enjoy!
Middle of the Night Fright-short story
One summer night in South Carolina I awakened with a start, my heart pounding in fright, to a sudden crashing noise. Reaching under my bed, I grabbed "Old Louie" the Louisville slugger bat Dad gave me for protection. As I rose from bed and crept out into the hallway a strange cloying scent tickled ny nose. I moved slowly in the moonlit darkness to Mom's bedroom and peeked in. Good, nothing but Mom in bed asleep.
The bare bathroom received a quick check, only the chrome gleamed in the light of the window. Only the kitchen and living room remained to be cleared of danger. I crept soundlessly down the carpeted hallway into the living room. In the semidarkness, the only shapes visible were those of furniture and the TV. However, as I approached the kitchen the odd odor I had noticed earlier, grew stronger and more unpleasant.
Mentally the thought of a burglar raced through my mind, as I warily prepared for anything. I raised "Old Louie" level with my head in a fighter's stance, swallowed hard and jumped out of the living room into . . . the trash can!
As my pulse raced with adrenaline I lowered "Old Louie" and started to laugh at the absurdity. Apparently, the trash can had tipped over, unbalanced when the dust pan slid down underneath it and crashed to the floor.
The kitchen clock read 3:15 a.m. and here I was standing in my pajamas, my hair a rat's nest with an old bat ready to do battle with a trash can. Shaking my head with silent mirth, I cleaned up the mess and went back to bed.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
April 10, 2006
After reading the book and viewing the movie based on C.S Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe", here is a poem I wrote that I thought you might also enjoy.
Summer Roses
Images of summer roses,
and snowdrops on noses,
glimmering lights
and angel eyes
mingled with hope in a dream.
All of it echoes my grief stricken screams:
Dad's ashes on snow
scatter, as brisk winds blow
my mind numbs with fear
as my blank eyes stare
at a bewitching cat
perched on a hardwood slugger bat
who dreams of mischief in the rain
while nonsensical words rhyme in my dream:
cottonwood dregs,
and prairie schooner wrecks
or maybe it's the image of woodchuck foes,
those misbegotten voles!
How do you describe the image of honor in glass
before a wind driven mast?
These thoughts and more,
drive me to my knees on the floor.
A simple cry, "Help God!" brings the thought, Harry Potter meets Christ
darkness turns into Life
The cat runs away, as ravens haunt the misty shored glen
I live in.
Time stands on end
as Aslan the Lion, my childhood friend,
trumps Satan, the old witch.
Aslan reminds me that the stone table split.
At last the battle is over. Life eternal wins
and Christ returns to rule again.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
April 10, 2006
Everyone I know has experienced a rough week so I've decided on a change of pace for my column. Here is a taste of summer to keep my readers happy until next year. Enjoy!
Middle of the Night Fright-short story
One summer night in South Carolina I awakened with a start, my heart pounding in fright, to a sudden crashing noise. Reaching under my bed, I grabbed "Old Louie" the Louisville slugger bat Dad gave me for protection. As I rose from bed and crept out into the hallway a strange cloying scent tickled ny nose. I moved slowly in the moonlit darkness to Mom's bedroom and peeked in. Good, nothing but Mom in bed asleep.
The bare bathroom received a quick check, only the chrome gleamed in the light of the window. Only the kitchen and living room remained to be cleared of danger. I crept soundlessly down the carpeted hallway into the living room. In the semidarkness, the only shapes visible were those of furniture and the TV. However, as I approached the kitchen the odd odor I had noticed earlier, grew stronger and more unpleasant.
Mentally the thought of a burglar raced through my mind, as I warily prepared for anything. I raised "Old Louie" level with my head in a fighter's stance, swallowed hard and jumped out of the living room into . . . the trash can!
As my pulse raced with adrenaline I lowered "Old Louie" and started to laugh at the absurdity. Apparently, the trash can had tipped over, unbalanced when the dust pan slid down underneath it and crashed to the floor.
The kitchen clock read 3:15 a.m. and here I was standing in my pajamas, my hair a rat's nest with an old bat ready to do battle with a trash can. Shaking my head with silent mirth, I cleaned up the mess and went back to bed.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
April 10, 2006
After reading the book and viewing the movie based on C.S Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe", here is a poem I wrote that I thought you might also enjoy.
Summer Roses
Images of summer roses,
and snowdrops on noses,
glimmering lights
and angel eyes
mingled with hope in a dream.
All of it echoes my grief stricken screams:
Dad's ashes on snow
scatter, as brisk winds blow
my mind numbs with fear
as my blank eyes stare
at a bewitching cat
perched on a hardwood slugger bat
who dreams of mischief in the rain
while nonsensical words rhyme in my dream:
cottonwood dregs,
and prairie schooner wrecks
or maybe it's the image of woodchuck foes,
those misbegotten voles!
How do you describe the image of honor in glass
before a wind driven mast?
These thoughts and more,
drive me to my knees on the floor.
A simple cry, "Help God!" brings the thought, Harry Potter meets Christ
darkness turns into Life
The cat runs away, as ravens haunt the misty shored glen
I live in.
Time stands on end
as Aslan the Lion, my childhood friend,
trumps Satan, the old witch.
Aslan reminds me that the stone table split.
At last the battle is over. Life eternal wins
and Christ returns to rule again.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
April 10, 2006
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Communion with God, Part Two
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
I've often wondered, what is Heaven like? Will I recognize the people I love, like family and friends? Jesus promises in John 14: 2 that "In My father's house are many mansions [rooms]; if it were not so I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. " (NKJV)
This is what I imagine my heavenly "home" looks like. It is a low rambling structure with a wrap around porch. I see lots of cats resting in the Light of God's Love. The scent of honeysuckle, lavender, and roses hang heavy on the air. I see my Dad and a friend, Johnny Dycus trimming the bushes out front while they keep an eagle eye on the lane leading from God's Throne Room. Mom, and my grandparents, along with the Apostles Peter, John and Paul are sitting in rockers on the front porch as they talk about the Savior. Moses, with his brother Aaron are pouring iced tea and lemonade, and setting out plates of Mom's molasses cookies. Suddenly a shout comes from Dad and Johnny. "He's Coming! Jesus is coming!" There's a mad rush as the best rocker is brought out and Mom pours an extra tall glass of lemonade for the Savior. Just then Jesus strides through the gate , greeting Dad and Johnny. He invites them up onto the porch where He settles in to the cries of everyone around Him, "Hosanna! Praise God!" and "We love you, Lord!"
That is how I picture Heaven. You may have a different idea of what Heaven will be like, I don't know. If you would like to know with absolute certainty where you will spend eternity, then all you need do is accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior by choosing to place your trust in Him. He will keep His word, as He said in John 14: 3-4, "And if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you unto myself; that where I am there you may be also. And where I go you know and the way you know." He will forgive your sins and come into your heart and life for eternity. There is no other way to receive eternal life. As Paul wrote in Ephesians 2:8-9, "For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast." The assurance of salvation is obtained only through faith in Jesus Christ. Grace is offered, but each person must accept it. God is begging to forgive us but we must want to be forgiven.
Believe me when I say, there is no better way to face life, than with the faith that God is always with you, giving you the Grace to sustain you moment by moment. This poem reflects my faith in a God who is always there when you need Him.
The Crystal Sea
Gulls swing in a ballet from current to current,
diving and plucking fish from the depths.
Waves lapping the shore
echo the praise from my lips.
Shafts of golden sunlight
break through the dense clouds
illuminating my soul's cry
with piercing gut-wrenching sounds.
As dusk washes the sky in shades of midnight blue,
God's still small voice whispers back,
"My Child, I Am always here for you.
When Satan's next attack
sends you running in fear
be calm, filled with power and love
and with a sound mind, know I Am is near."
With those words ringing in my ears, I know what faith is made of:
It is what I hope for, the evidence of what I cannot see
Heaven's Gates opened wide
and Jesus waiting to welcome me.
The saints, prophets and family inside
teaching beside the crystal sea.
All of this and more
I have to look forward to
One day, I'll be standing on Heaven's shore
until then, I need to share the Good News with you.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
October 9, 2005
Scripture References:
II Timothy 1:7 & Hebrews 11:1
I've often wondered, what is Heaven like? Will I recognize the people I love, like family and friends? Jesus promises in John 14: 2 that "In My father's house are many mansions [rooms]; if it were not so I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. " (NKJV)
This is what I imagine my heavenly "home" looks like. It is a low rambling structure with a wrap around porch. I see lots of cats resting in the Light of God's Love. The scent of honeysuckle, lavender, and roses hang heavy on the air. I see my Dad and a friend, Johnny Dycus trimming the bushes out front while they keep an eagle eye on the lane leading from God's Throne Room. Mom, and my grandparents, along with the Apostles Peter, John and Paul are sitting in rockers on the front porch as they talk about the Savior. Moses, with his brother Aaron are pouring iced tea and lemonade, and setting out plates of Mom's molasses cookies. Suddenly a shout comes from Dad and Johnny. "He's Coming! Jesus is coming!" There's a mad rush as the best rocker is brought out and Mom pours an extra tall glass of lemonade for the Savior. Just then Jesus strides through the gate , greeting Dad and Johnny. He invites them up onto the porch where He settles in to the cries of everyone around Him, "Hosanna! Praise God!" and "We love you, Lord!"
That is how I picture Heaven. You may have a different idea of what Heaven will be like, I don't know. If you would like to know with absolute certainty where you will spend eternity, then all you need do is accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior by choosing to place your trust in Him. He will keep His word, as He said in John 14: 3-4, "And if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you unto myself; that where I am there you may be also. And where I go you know and the way you know." He will forgive your sins and come into your heart and life for eternity. There is no other way to receive eternal life. As Paul wrote in Ephesians 2:8-9, "For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast." The assurance of salvation is obtained only through faith in Jesus Christ. Grace is offered, but each person must accept it. God is begging to forgive us but we must want to be forgiven.
Believe me when I say, there is no better way to face life, than with the faith that God is always with you, giving you the Grace to sustain you moment by moment. This poem reflects my faith in a God who is always there when you need Him.
The Crystal Sea
Gulls swing in a ballet from current to current,
diving and plucking fish from the depths.
Waves lapping the shore
echo the praise from my lips.
Shafts of golden sunlight
break through the dense clouds
illuminating my soul's cry
with piercing gut-wrenching sounds.
As dusk washes the sky in shades of midnight blue,
God's still small voice whispers back,
"My Child, I Am always here for you.
When Satan's next attack
sends you running in fear
be calm, filled with power and love
and with a sound mind, know I Am is near."
With those words ringing in my ears, I know what faith is made of:
It is what I hope for, the evidence of what I cannot see
Heaven's Gates opened wide
and Jesus waiting to welcome me.
The saints, prophets and family inside
teaching beside the crystal sea.
All of this and more
I have to look forward to
One day, I'll be standing on Heaven's shore
until then, I need to share the Good News with you.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
October 9, 2005
Scripture References:
II Timothy 1:7 & Hebrews 11:1
Communion with God, Part One
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
I miss my mom and dad. Some days, the ache in my heart becomes so strong I find I'm on the verge of tears constantly. On other days, I feel as if life is flowing past so swiftly that I'm standing still, waiting. Just waiting for something or someone to come along and remind me I AM loved, wanted and needed. That I am something beautiful in someone's eyes. That is when I reach for my Bible and turn to John 14: 1-4.
In this passage, Jesus' reassuring words to the disciples on the subject of His imminent death offered comfort while also providing hope for people like me, today.
Jesus said, "Let not your heart be troubled, you believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father's house are many mansions [homes]; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to myself; that where I am, there you may be also. And where I go you know, and the place you know." (NKJV)
For many people Death is a frightening reality they try hard to avoid. But for believers in Christ, it is the doorway to eternity with Jesus. After all, He gave His Life to save humanity from the wages of sin; we should (hopefully!) be willing to trust Him with ours by inviting Him into our hearts as Lord and Savior. Then through studying the Bible, and a daily time of devotions and prayer we can build a lasting relationship with Jesus.
Just like in a marriage or some other type of relationship, both parties must take the time to nurture, support and love each other. Then when a person does place their faith and trust in Jesus, one can be sure of this: He will never leave nor forsake us.
I miss my mom and dad. Some days, the ache in my heart becomes so strong I find I'm on the verge of tears constantly. On other days, I feel as if life is flowing past so swiftly that I'm standing still, waiting. Just waiting for something or someone to come along and remind me I AM loved, wanted and needed. That I am something beautiful in someone's eyes. That is when I reach for my Bible and turn to John 14: 1-4.
In this passage, Jesus' reassuring words to the disciples on the subject of His imminent death offered comfort while also providing hope for people like me, today.
Jesus said, "Let not your heart be troubled, you believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father's house are many mansions [homes]; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you, and if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to myself; that where I am, there you may be also. And where I go you know, and the place you know." (NKJV)
For many people Death is a frightening reality they try hard to avoid. But for believers in Christ, it is the doorway to eternity with Jesus. After all, He gave His Life to save humanity from the wages of sin; we should (hopefully!) be willing to trust Him with ours by inviting Him into our hearts as Lord and Savior. Then through studying the Bible, and a daily time of devotions and prayer we can build a lasting relationship with Jesus.
Just like in a marriage or some other type of relationship, both parties must take the time to nurture, support and love each other. Then when a person does place their faith and trust in Jesus, one can be sure of this: He will never leave nor forsake us.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Honoring All Veterans, Part Two
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
Perhaps it is the combined memories of my mom and dad weighing heavy on my mind these days. But whatever the reason, I would like to continue to give thanks to God for the men and women who serve this country. In conflicts great and small, through peace time and war, you are always in my prayers and in those of fellow believers the world over.
In 1995, I wrote the following poems. Their message is as relevant today as it was then. I pray you find a loving welcome and an easy adjustment when you come home. Thank you for your courage and your sacrifice.
Honoring All Veterans
From the beaches of Normandy
to the sands of Saudi,
we stand before you today
paying homage to those soldiers whose sacrifices paved the way
for us to live free.
So too, has Jesus' death and resurrection brought us freedom from sin for all eternity
if we only believe!
Then we too will receive
His Peace
and all misery will cease.
This is why we can sing,
Jesus Christ is Lord of Lords, the Eternal Father of Fathers and King of Kings!"
Written on:
May 14, 1995.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
A Soldier's Psalm
Past:
Strafing fire rakes the night sky,
a sniper's bullet meant for me,
catches you behind the knee.
Present:
Drug wars ignite,
drive by shootings in the neighborhood,
pine is the choice for coffin wood.
Danger works
to make my mind think everything's a trap,
as my tight control crumbles and snaps . . .
Sweating, I realize the only solace I see
may be
for me to disappear in a forest of trees.
Future:
God's "future" for me:
In my "heart, soul and mind" the war has finally ceased,
and through His Grace I truly have found Peace.
Written on:
October 29, 1995.
Written by:
Belle Ann Leslie
Scripture Reference:
Matthew 22:37-40.
Perhaps it is the combined memories of my mom and dad weighing heavy on my mind these days. But whatever the reason, I would like to continue to give thanks to God for the men and women who serve this country. In conflicts great and small, through peace time and war, you are always in my prayers and in those of fellow believers the world over.
In 1995, I wrote the following poems. Their message is as relevant today as it was then. I pray you find a loving welcome and an easy adjustment when you come home. Thank you for your courage and your sacrifice.
Honoring All Veterans
From the beaches of Normandy
to the sands of Saudi,
we stand before you today
paying homage to those soldiers whose sacrifices paved the way
for us to live free.
So too, has Jesus' death and resurrection brought us freedom from sin for all eternity
if we only believe!
Then we too will receive
His Peace
and all misery will cease.
This is why we can sing,
Jesus Christ is Lord of Lords, the Eternal Father of Fathers and King of Kings!"
Written on:
May 14, 1995.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
A Soldier's Psalm
Past:
Strafing fire rakes the night sky,
a sniper's bullet meant for me,
catches you behind the knee.
Present:
Drug wars ignite,
drive by shootings in the neighborhood,
pine is the choice for coffin wood.
Danger works
to make my mind think everything's a trap,
as my tight control crumbles and snaps . . .
Sweating, I realize the only solace I see
may be
for me to disappear in a forest of trees.
Future:
God's "future" for me:
In my "heart, soul and mind" the war has finally ceased,
and through His Grace I truly have found Peace.
Written on:
October 29, 1995.
Written by:
Belle Ann Leslie
Scripture Reference:
Matthew 22:37-40.
Honoring All Veterans, Part One
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
I've been reflecting lately on the men and women who serve in the military. How difficult it is for them to receive good news when all they see every day is fighting. I wish to thank them personally for their courage and commitment as they are on the front lines fighting to keep America safe.
I can think of no better way to do that than with this poem.
The Good News!
To the officer in the Navy,
who is fighting most bravely.
To the person in the Reserves,
who is willing to give more than we deserve.
To those in the Air Force,
whose mind is set on a steady course.
To the strong, stalwart Marine,
who has courage the like I've rarely seen.
To those in the Army,
who willingly drop everything to help ye.
To those in the Coast Guard,
who protect our shores from enemies afar
Thank you
for all that you do . . .
There is One,
proclaimed as God's Son
who came to set you free
from sin for all eternity.
He paid the ultimate price
to bring you and I, Life!
Yet, that's not the end
He rose from the grave, My Friend.
And now amid the battle zone,
He wants you to know, you are never alone.
For as you face our common foe
remember, He is with you wherever you go.
And even through the fear
you can still draw near,
for He came to declare the Good News,
you are free to choose
the Gospel of Jesus Christ
when you surrender to Him your life . . .
If you ask him to come and dwell within
your heart, He will cleanse you of sin.
Then the victory will be sweet,
when you meet,
Jesus Christ in the air,
when He comes back to reign down here.
At that glorious shout,
there will be no doubt
of One mind you will be
for the rest of eternity!
And in joy you can sing,
"Jesus Christ is King of Kings!"
Written on:
August 1, 1992.
Written by:
Mildred A. Baker
&
Belle Anne Leslie
I've been reflecting lately on the men and women who serve in the military. How difficult it is for them to receive good news when all they see every day is fighting. I wish to thank them personally for their courage and commitment as they are on the front lines fighting to keep America safe.
I can think of no better way to do that than with this poem.
The Good News!
To the officer in the Navy,
who is fighting most bravely.
To the person in the Reserves,
who is willing to give more than we deserve.
To those in the Air Force,
whose mind is set on a steady course.
To the strong, stalwart Marine,
who has courage the like I've rarely seen.
To those in the Army,
who willingly drop everything to help ye.
To those in the Coast Guard,
who protect our shores from enemies afar
Thank you
for all that you do . . .
There is One,
proclaimed as God's Son
who came to set you free
from sin for all eternity.
He paid the ultimate price
to bring you and I, Life!
Yet, that's not the end
He rose from the grave, My Friend.
And now amid the battle zone,
He wants you to know, you are never alone.
For as you face our common foe
remember, He is with you wherever you go.
And even through the fear
you can still draw near,
for He came to declare the Good News,
you are free to choose
the Gospel of Jesus Christ
when you surrender to Him your life . . .
If you ask him to come and dwell within
your heart, He will cleanse you of sin.
Then the victory will be sweet,
when you meet,
Jesus Christ in the air,
when He comes back to reign down here.
At that glorious shout,
there will be no doubt
of One mind you will be
for the rest of eternity!
And in joy you can sing,
"Jesus Christ is King of Kings!"
Written on:
August 1, 1992.
Written by:
Mildred A. Baker
&
Belle Anne Leslie
The Art of Interdependence
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
A friend asked me recently this question, "What does the Bible mean when it says to honor Mom and Dad?" That made me think and like a good writer, I did some research to find answers.
I discovered there are two basic principles involved.The first is the Law, as represented by the Fifth of the Ten Commandments found in Exodus 20:12, "Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land which the Lord your God is giving to you."
Biblical scholars believe that the Law represents a sense of duty in respecting your parents. After all, parents are supposed to take care of, nurture, and raise their offspring to be functional, literate, productive and responsible adults. However, in this day and age, children often wind up raising themselves. Whatever the reason, many children who grow to adulthood perceive taking care of older parents as a burden that drags their own sense of worth into the dust.
Because their own self-worth is tied up in material possessions and accomplishments the adult children fail to prepare for the day when they receive that call. The one that alerts them Mom and Dad aren't the strong capable people they seem to be. Suddenly, the adult children find it necessary to make choices and decisions for Mom and Dad regarding housing, and medical care. The devastating change-of-life event, be it a stroke or debilitating illness, reminds the adult children they too, are growing old. The transition to accepting the parents' very human weaknesses and needs is awkward at best and frightening at worst. But when the adult children do look beyond this they find the invisible rigid code of behavior that binds them, relaxing.
Honoring parents is not meant to be a heavy weight or burden. It is meant to be a time filled with enjoyment. Which brings us to the second principle, Grace. When the adult children acknowledge the evidence of God's Grace, Love. They learn to laugh at life's obstacles, cry over their sorrows, live and see through God's eyes, all the colors of His creation. Most importantly, it is hoped, they learn that God's Grace is a Gift of Love paid for through Jesus' Death and Resurrection.
So honoring Mom and Dad in Grace means going the extra mile when needed, and not easily taking offense when it seems as if every little thing is an excuse to pick a fight. It means remembering that the loss of independence and learning the art of interdependence, leaning on others, is hard for both parties. It also means finding that one bit of humor in an untenable situation. For example, when you try to maneuver a walker through a doorway that is way to small, you quip something such as, "Hey Mom, I didn't know you could dance!"
Finally, it means remembering daily the words that Jesus uttered in Matthew 22:37-40, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it; you shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the Law and the prophets." (NKJV)
For more suggestions on the art of interdependence, see the following poems.
Gossip
When people get older
I've noticed they tend to be bolder
or maybe, nosy is a better word.
Like, two old gents sat smoking cigars, one commented, "Say, haven't you heard?
This place is draftier than an old barn."
The other one said, "Did you hear the one about the cat who ate Irene's yarn?"
Along came the lady's neighbor
who remarked, "No, I heard her cat laid on it when it was in labor."
"Really?" replied one of the gents.
The other gent said, "No, No. I heard it was a bird caught in her hair net."
And on and on the story is told
until no one knows who started it and why
it was just a way to pass the time.
Written on:
January 15, 2004.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Life At a Senior Hi-Rise
Living at a senior hi-rise
time slows, and nature bends into a semblance of active lives.
Like fine wine that ages well,
one senior finds it hard to tell
the beauty of his former state
from his current, as slow of gait
he insists, "Don't call me sweet!
Crusty or cantankerous maybe, but I am fun to meet!"
Another calls to a grandchild, "Hop on board."
The child clambers on her lap as Grandma's wheelchair rolls out the door.
There is Euchre, Bingo and dominoes, too.
Don't forget there are also jigsaw puzzles to do.
The best part of living at a senior hi-rise to some
is that losing some independence, doesn't mean you can't have fun.
Written on:
January 15, 2004
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
A friend asked me recently this question, "What does the Bible mean when it says to honor Mom and Dad?" That made me think and like a good writer, I did some research to find answers.
I discovered there are two basic principles involved.The first is the Law, as represented by the Fifth of the Ten Commandments found in Exodus 20:12, "Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land which the Lord your God is giving to you."
Biblical scholars believe that the Law represents a sense of duty in respecting your parents. After all, parents are supposed to take care of, nurture, and raise their offspring to be functional, literate, productive and responsible adults. However, in this day and age, children often wind up raising themselves. Whatever the reason, many children who grow to adulthood perceive taking care of older parents as a burden that drags their own sense of worth into the dust.
Because their own self-worth is tied up in material possessions and accomplishments the adult children fail to prepare for the day when they receive that call. The one that alerts them Mom and Dad aren't the strong capable people they seem to be. Suddenly, the adult children find it necessary to make choices and decisions for Mom and Dad regarding housing, and medical care. The devastating change-of-life event, be it a stroke or debilitating illness, reminds the adult children they too, are growing old. The transition to accepting the parents' very human weaknesses and needs is awkward at best and frightening at worst. But when the adult children do look beyond this they find the invisible rigid code of behavior that binds them, relaxing.
Honoring parents is not meant to be a heavy weight or burden. It is meant to be a time filled with enjoyment. Which brings us to the second principle, Grace. When the adult children acknowledge the evidence of God's Grace, Love. They learn to laugh at life's obstacles, cry over their sorrows, live and see through God's eyes, all the colors of His creation. Most importantly, it is hoped, they learn that God's Grace is a Gift of Love paid for through Jesus' Death and Resurrection.
So honoring Mom and Dad in Grace means going the extra mile when needed, and not easily taking offense when it seems as if every little thing is an excuse to pick a fight. It means remembering that the loss of independence and learning the art of interdependence, leaning on others, is hard for both parties. It also means finding that one bit of humor in an untenable situation. For example, when you try to maneuver a walker through a doorway that is way to small, you quip something such as, "Hey Mom, I didn't know you could dance!"
Finally, it means remembering daily the words that Jesus uttered in Matthew 22:37-40, "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it; you shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the Law and the prophets." (NKJV)
For more suggestions on the art of interdependence, see the following poems.
Gossip
When people get older
I've noticed they tend to be bolder
or maybe, nosy is a better word.
Like, two old gents sat smoking cigars, one commented, "Say, haven't you heard?
This place is draftier than an old barn."
The other one said, "Did you hear the one about the cat who ate Irene's yarn?"
Along came the lady's neighbor
who remarked, "No, I heard her cat laid on it when it was in labor."
"Really?" replied one of the gents.
The other gent said, "No, No. I heard it was a bird caught in her hair net."
And on and on the story is told
until no one knows who started it and why
it was just a way to pass the time.
Written on:
January 15, 2004.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Life At a Senior Hi-Rise
Living at a senior hi-rise
time slows, and nature bends into a semblance of active lives.
Like fine wine that ages well,
one senior finds it hard to tell
the beauty of his former state
from his current, as slow of gait
he insists, "Don't call me sweet!
Crusty or cantankerous maybe, but I am fun to meet!"
Another calls to a grandchild, "Hop on board."
The child clambers on her lap as Grandma's wheelchair rolls out the door.
There is Euchre, Bingo and dominoes, too.
Don't forget there are also jigsaw puzzles to do.
The best part of living at a senior hi-rise to some
is that losing some independence, doesn't mean you can't have fun.
Written on:
January 15, 2004
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Doing The Right Thing
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
As a young college student from a small town, the news report the other night on the Prison Camp at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba pricked my conscience. I seriously began to think about the situation there. Specifically, the conditions the detainees live in, and the fact they are held without legal representation or the right to a fair trial.
The photos captured the haunted look of hoplessness and despair on the detainees' faces. I was instantly reminded of the stories I had heard from World War II veterans of similar reactions they had witnessed, when the veterans liberated people from Hitler's death camps.
Now, I know in my heart that for the most part, the American military honors the Geneva Convention's code of coduct in regards to human rights. I also know no one is perfect. Many mistakes can and will be made in the interests of self preservation. We are a nation at war.
So it may be true many detainees at Guantanamo Bay are considered to be too dangerous to release to the general public. It may also be true quite a few don't wish to return to their own countries because they fear reprisal or death.
It seems, some of the countries whose people we hold would rather let the United States be responsible for the risk these detainees pose rather than take responsibility for their own inaction.
Consequently, America faces a moral dilemma. How does a nation respond appropriately when dealing with prisoners of war when there are ramifications, that shoot off in every direction, to the decisions a nation must make?
The Prison Camp at Guantanamo Bay stands in the crosshairs of a divided world. A planet whose differences seem insurmountable and cannot be easily resolved by a pat on the back or a friendly shake of hands. Or can it?
To do the right thing is never easy or uncomplicated. But when you take that road in a complex, violent world, the simplest solution may be the best.
It wouldn't hurt if the leaders of the countries whose detainees we hold, sit down over "tea and cookies" and talked. Really talked to come up with a solution that benefitted everybody, especially the detainees.
Like the Bible says in Romans 12;18, "If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peacably with all men." (NKJV)
As a young college student from a small town, the news report the other night on the Prison Camp at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba pricked my conscience. I seriously began to think about the situation there. Specifically, the conditions the detainees live in, and the fact they are held without legal representation or the right to a fair trial.
The photos captured the haunted look of hoplessness and despair on the detainees' faces. I was instantly reminded of the stories I had heard from World War II veterans of similar reactions they had witnessed, when the veterans liberated people from Hitler's death camps.
Now, I know in my heart that for the most part, the American military honors the Geneva Convention's code of coduct in regards to human rights. I also know no one is perfect. Many mistakes can and will be made in the interests of self preservation. We are a nation at war.
So it may be true many detainees at Guantanamo Bay are considered to be too dangerous to release to the general public. It may also be true quite a few don't wish to return to their own countries because they fear reprisal or death.
It seems, some of the countries whose people we hold would rather let the United States be responsible for the risk these detainees pose rather than take responsibility for their own inaction.
Consequently, America faces a moral dilemma. How does a nation respond appropriately when dealing with prisoners of war when there are ramifications, that shoot off in every direction, to the decisions a nation must make?
The Prison Camp at Guantanamo Bay stands in the crosshairs of a divided world. A planet whose differences seem insurmountable and cannot be easily resolved by a pat on the back or a friendly shake of hands. Or can it?
To do the right thing is never easy or uncomplicated. But when you take that road in a complex, violent world, the simplest solution may be the best.
It wouldn't hurt if the leaders of the countries whose detainees we hold, sit down over "tea and cookies" and talked. Really talked to come up with a solution that benefitted everybody, especially the detainees.
Like the Bible says in Romans 12;18, "If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peacably with all men." (NKJV)
What's the Difference Between an Emigrant and an Immigrant?
Grace moment by moment-weekly column
This week marks the holiday of Cinco de Mayo, which commemorates the victory of the Mexican Army over the French Army at the Battle of Puebla in 1862. Many communities and cities in Mexico and North America set aside a day, the Fifth of May, to honor the beliefs of people of Hispanic heritage.
As is the case with Cinco de Mayo and many local, regional and national festivals, it is hoped through the sharing of food, music, faith and customs, people will learn to respect the diverse representation of ethnic heritage found in the United States.
After all, when you think about it none of us can claim to be a true American unless someone is of Native American descent. America is a hodgepodge of different backgrounds, faiths and social class. Many of our ancestors emigrated to the United States from other countries. Some came to start over financially, while others came to freely worship God without censorship or persecution. Whatever the reason given, it is wrong to deny someone the promise of a better life based on economics, prejudice or politics. Everyone deserves and needs to be treated as a human being with dignity, respect and compassion. The following poem is inspired by Dr. Martin Luther King's "I have a dream" speech.
Treat Me as Christ Sees Me: A Human Being
I have a dream . . .
to be treated like a human being.
"Not by might, nor by power
but by My Spirit, says the Lord."
Not for race, color or position
but for Love in God's disposition.
He alone is the One,
who made me in the image of His Son.
Through His eyes He can see
Christ's blood, shed for me.
Through His love alone
God's Grace has shown
that the pathway to God
is through the power of Christ's blood.
There is no other way
to face the coming Day,
when Christ comes back
knowing His forgiveness is what a person lacks!
Written on:
January 19, 1992.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Scripture References:
Zechariah 4:6; Matthew 7:13-14; John 3:16-17; John 14:6;
Galatians 3:28; Colossians 3:11; & Ephesians 2:10.
For more information on Cinco de Mayo, explore Mexonline.com
This week marks the holiday of Cinco de Mayo, which commemorates the victory of the Mexican Army over the French Army at the Battle of Puebla in 1862. Many communities and cities in Mexico and North America set aside a day, the Fifth of May, to honor the beliefs of people of Hispanic heritage.
As is the case with Cinco de Mayo and many local, regional and national festivals, it is hoped through the sharing of food, music, faith and customs, people will learn to respect the diverse representation of ethnic heritage found in the United States.
After all, when you think about it none of us can claim to be a true American unless someone is of Native American descent. America is a hodgepodge of different backgrounds, faiths and social class. Many of our ancestors emigrated to the United States from other countries. Some came to start over financially, while others came to freely worship God without censorship or persecution. Whatever the reason given, it is wrong to deny someone the promise of a better life based on economics, prejudice or politics. Everyone deserves and needs to be treated as a human being with dignity, respect and compassion. The following poem is inspired by Dr. Martin Luther King's "I have a dream" speech.
Treat Me as Christ Sees Me: A Human Being
I have a dream . . .
to be treated like a human being.
"Not by might, nor by power
but by My Spirit, says the Lord."
Not for race, color or position
but for Love in God's disposition.
He alone is the One,
who made me in the image of His Son.
Through His eyes He can see
Christ's blood, shed for me.
Through His love alone
God's Grace has shown
that the pathway to God
is through the power of Christ's blood.
There is no other way
to face the coming Day,
when Christ comes back
knowing His forgiveness is what a person lacks!
Written on:
January 19, 1992.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Scripture References:
Zechariah 4:6; Matthew 7:13-14; John 3:16-17; John 14:6;
Galatians 3:28; Colossians 3:11; & Ephesians 2:10.
For more information on Cinco de Mayo, explore Mexonline.com
Easter Blessings, Part Two
Grace Moment by Moment-weekly column
A friend asked me recently, "Why is Easter so important?" Aside from all the hoopla about the Easter bunny and the hunt for Easter eggs. The single most important fact about Easter is the celebration of the Day that changed history. The day Jesus Christ rose from the grave. In doing so, He defeated Death and became the offering for sin. All humanity needs to do is recognize Jesus died to save us because of His great Love for us. If we believe that and accept Him into our lives as Lord and Savior we will have eternal life.
Easter then, is the fulfillment of God's Promise to humanity. The promise of salvation foretold in the Bible. But Easter is more than that, it is the anticipation of Christians, scholars and the whole world who look for the Day when Jesus Christ returns to bring a true, lasting Peace to this globe. With expectant hope, humanity's gaze turns to the eastern wall of Jerusalem, in Israel. It is said, in the Old Testament, that on that day Jesus Christ will ride through the Eastern Gate of the city. What a day, what a glorious day that will be!
Here is a poem that accurately describes the scene and sums up my feelings for the event that could happen at any moment.
The Eastern Gate
Withe current Israeli-Jordanian talks completed, Peace was made
and though the plans of war by mortal men were delayed
the leaders still made history, for all could see
the fulfillment of prophecy.
With this in mind
we must be conscious of the time
for the day approaches fast
when the final die will be cast
and the efforts of those who are crazed for war
will find instead the world's desire for lasting peace, soar
and the alliances the terrorists would form
at best, lukewarm.
It is then, all eyes will turn towards the Eastern Gate
for the world's hopes and dreams will be realized as on that appointed date
all will lift their voices in praise to sing,
"Hosanna to the Son of David! Our Messiah has come to reign!"
Written on:
August 10, 1994.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
A friend asked me recently, "Why is Easter so important?" Aside from all the hoopla about the Easter bunny and the hunt for Easter eggs. The single most important fact about Easter is the celebration of the Day that changed history. The day Jesus Christ rose from the grave. In doing so, He defeated Death and became the offering for sin. All humanity needs to do is recognize Jesus died to save us because of His great Love for us. If we believe that and accept Him into our lives as Lord and Savior we will have eternal life.
Easter then, is the fulfillment of God's Promise to humanity. The promise of salvation foretold in the Bible. But Easter is more than that, it is the anticipation of Christians, scholars and the whole world who look for the Day when Jesus Christ returns to bring a true, lasting Peace to this globe. With expectant hope, humanity's gaze turns to the eastern wall of Jerusalem, in Israel. It is said, in the Old Testament, that on that day Jesus Christ will ride through the Eastern Gate of the city. What a day, what a glorious day that will be!
Here is a poem that accurately describes the scene and sums up my feelings for the event that could happen at any moment.
The Eastern Gate
Withe current Israeli-Jordanian talks completed, Peace was made
and though the plans of war by mortal men were delayed
the leaders still made history, for all could see
the fulfillment of prophecy.
With this in mind
we must be conscious of the time
for the day approaches fast
when the final die will be cast
and the efforts of those who are crazed for war
will find instead the world's desire for lasting peace, soar
and the alliances the terrorists would form
at best, lukewarm.
It is then, all eyes will turn towards the Eastern Gate
for the world's hopes and dreams will be realized as on that appointed date
all will lift their voices in praise to sing,
"Hosanna to the Son of David! Our Messiah has come to reign!"
Written on:
August 10, 1994.
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Friday, April 14, 2006
The Importance of Prayer, Part Two
Grace, Moment by Moment-weekly column
This week is the holiest week on the Christian calendar, second only to the week of Christmas. So, I thought I would share another insight into the importance of prayer.
Clash of the Titans
As the soughing, icy chill wind rattles through the dry, brittle trees
the clock tower sounds the dinner hour; I freeze
my breath mists in the snow driven air
as I perceive the echo of all the saints' prayers.
Momentous and growing, the menace of Evil seethes
under the surface of present time, straining for release.
The clash of angelic and satanic powers meet
beyond the mortal ken of man; amid the sleet of Heaven's storm-tossed skies,
Michael the Archangel battles Satan, the Father of Lies.
But a moment is all that is needed
to hear God's clarion call. Heeded,
I whisper an unending litany of prayer
knowing, seeking, beseeching Father God's grace appear!
As I hurry on to eat, I wonder
was Satan's power play torn asunder?
Father God's Love infuses my being
with reassurance; I express my joy by singing,
"You are Abba, Father, Yahweh.
thank you, for being eternally My Daddy."
Written on:
November 16, 2005
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
May you have a blessed and joyous Easter!
This week is the holiest week on the Christian calendar, second only to the week of Christmas. So, I thought I would share another insight into the importance of prayer.
Clash of the Titans
As the soughing, icy chill wind rattles through the dry, brittle trees
the clock tower sounds the dinner hour; I freeze
my breath mists in the snow driven air
as I perceive the echo of all the saints' prayers.
Momentous and growing, the menace of Evil seethes
under the surface of present time, straining for release.
The clash of angelic and satanic powers meet
beyond the mortal ken of man; amid the sleet of Heaven's storm-tossed skies,
Michael the Archangel battles Satan, the Father of Lies.
But a moment is all that is needed
to hear God's clarion call. Heeded,
I whisper an unending litany of prayer
knowing, seeking, beseeching Father God's grace appear!
As I hurry on to eat, I wonder
was Satan's power play torn asunder?
Father God's Love infuses my being
with reassurance; I express my joy by singing,
"You are Abba, Father, Yahweh.
thank you, for being eternally My Daddy."
Written on:
November 16, 2005
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
May you have a blessed and joyous Easter!
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
By Starlight or Sunlight God's Grace Appears
Grace: Moment by Moment-weekly column
God's Lamp Post of Light
As moonlight dances on the dark water
I seek the lamp post of my Heavenly Father.
Night shadows the path I take
His is the only source of light to make
the path ahead seem clearer.
Calmness fills my very being as dawn edges nearer.
I hear music of a different kind
its the first ethereal notes no one on Earth can find,
of an angel choir singing heavenly hymns
in praise to the great I AM.
I look and see
no one notices but me.
Am I the only one they are singing to?
What is it God wants me to do?
As the path winds through the dark,
Caverns of my heart
open wide,
flooding with the blaze of the Jesus' Son Shine.
Even the recesses are swept clean
with no cobwebs of old guilt left within.
Hope and Mercy break down the only protection I've ever known;
the walls surounding my soul's home.
Peace supplants fear, rooting out the weeds of discontent
so that in this place, only good things can vent.
No matter how faith appears on the outside, looking in
one can only see Christ again.
As the last light post fades to black
I know at last God's Grace is back.
Thank you Father God, for this prayer.
May I always know You are here,
close beside me all the way.
May I be a light for You until Resurrection Day!
Written on:
October 13, 2005
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
God's Lamp Post of Light
As moonlight dances on the dark water
I seek the lamp post of my Heavenly Father.
Night shadows the path I take
His is the only source of light to make
the path ahead seem clearer.
Calmness fills my very being as dawn edges nearer.
I hear music of a different kind
its the first ethereal notes no one on Earth can find,
of an angel choir singing heavenly hymns
in praise to the great I AM.
I look and see
no one notices but me.
Am I the only one they are singing to?
What is it God wants me to do?
As the path winds through the dark,
Caverns of my heart
open wide,
flooding with the blaze of the Jesus' Son Shine.
Even the recesses are swept clean
with no cobwebs of old guilt left within.
Hope and Mercy break down the only protection I've ever known;
the walls surounding my soul's home.
Peace supplants fear, rooting out the weeds of discontent
so that in this place, only good things can vent.
No matter how faith appears on the outside, looking in
one can only see Christ again.
As the last light post fades to black
I know at last God's Grace is back.
Thank you Father God, for this prayer.
May I always know You are here,
close beside me all the way.
May I be a light for You until Resurrection Day!
Written on:
October 13, 2005
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
An Easter Basket of Blessings
Grace: Moment by Moment-weekly column
An Easter Promise
Wounded and hurting, pain lances the depths of my soul
I wondered, would I ever again be whole?
The wounds only bled more
as I battled the bruising mind games of the dark lord.
As the thunder of guns echo the reverberations of St. Monica's bells
my mind can only handle so much grief--real
and anticipatory. How do I cope, let go, and seize life again?
Tears mix with the drumming rain
as the color guard moves into place
I question, "When innocents die, does faith?"
Who do I turn to? Which voice is clear?
When Jesus calls, His voice is harder and harder to hear.
All around
bombings and images of death surround.
Confused for a moment as lightning flashed, I froze
in the backwash the image of Christ at the garden tomb arose.
His nail-scarred hands spread wide
and with Love shining from His eyes,
He spoke to my heart, "My child, I died
so that you might have Everlasting Life.
Come unto Me and I will give you rest."
Then He gathered my weeping form to His chest.
At the grave of my father I rejoiced,
for I knew he too had made the right choice,
to trust God
no matter what life throws at one.
Written on:
March 18, 2004
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
An Easter Promise
Wounded and hurting, pain lances the depths of my soul
I wondered, would I ever again be whole?
The wounds only bled more
as I battled the bruising mind games of the dark lord.
As the thunder of guns echo the reverberations of St. Monica's bells
my mind can only handle so much grief--real
and anticipatory. How do I cope, let go, and seize life again?
Tears mix with the drumming rain
as the color guard moves into place
I question, "When innocents die, does faith?"
Who do I turn to? Which voice is clear?
When Jesus calls, His voice is harder and harder to hear.
All around
bombings and images of death surround.
Confused for a moment as lightning flashed, I froze
in the backwash the image of Christ at the garden tomb arose.
His nail-scarred hands spread wide
and with Love shining from His eyes,
He spoke to my heart, "My child, I died
so that you might have Everlasting Life.
Come unto Me and I will give you rest."
Then He gathered my weeping form to His chest.
At the grave of my father I rejoiced,
for I knew he too had made the right choice,
to trust God
no matter what life throws at one.
Written on:
March 18, 2004
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Sunday, March 26, 2006
The Importance of Prayer
Grace Moment By Moment-weekly column
"The effective fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much"
(James 5:16 NKJV).
"Where Were You When the Olympic Park Bombing Occured?"
The question from my friend startled me. When I agreed to do the interview I had no idea what to expect. I knew she wanted to ask me some questions about my time in South Carolina. Well, that certainly took place then. We were sitting in my house, sipping tea when the subject came up. Reflecting on that event, I smiled. It was one of my favorite memories of Mom. The day I learned how important taking time to pray could be. . .
I remember it as a warm summer day in Sumter, South Carolina. Sunny golden light danced across the carpeted living room and onto the kitchen table as we prepared to start the day. At 7:45 a.m. I checked Mom's blood sugar-140. So I prepared an insulin syringe and gave her, her morning shot while the griddle warmed. A few minutes later, I served our breakfast of hot blueberry pancakes and sizzling sausage with orange juice and coffee. By 8:30 we had eaten and I had washed the breakfast dishes.
As I put the dishes away I asked Mom, "What do you want to do today?"
I knew what the answer would be. It's what we did every Saturday.
"Let's start with baking cinnnamon rolls,then maybe, some chocolate chip cookies or pies later." Mom replied her eyes lit with a smile, "You know how Uncle Bob and Aunt Mary love them."
Yeah, I know." I laughed. "It seems we can't keep them around long enough to satisfy their sweet tooth."
"Or mine." Mom added with a laugh.
As I began setting out the pans and utensils, I reflected on our routine. Every Saturday morning, as we listened to the Christian radio serial programs, Mom and I baked sugar free baked goods. I did most of the physical work since Mom had suffered a stroke a few years before. But it in no way diminished her joy of baking or the time we shared together. As I set the final ingredient on the table, Mom's mood changed.
"Honey, we need to keep praying. That ominous sense of trouble I mentioned a few weeks ago is stronger than ever today. I don't know what it means. . . I hope nothing bad is going to happen but we just need to keep praying."
"Okay, Mom." I had felt the same troubling sense of unease for a couple of weeks now. I knew from Mom's teaching, and from my own experience, never argue with God when He impresses a need for His people to pray.
About an hour later, we were halfway through the second batch of cinnamon rolls, with the first one in the oven baking. Suddenly I had to go to the bathroom.
"Mom I'll be right back." I yelled as I ran down the hallway. The hall clock read 9:00 a.m. Mom's favorite radio program Ranger Bill was on. In the bathroom the words, "Prayer is the essence of our walk with Jesus. It is the pipeline through which He hears us." floated through my mind. Outside the thermometer read 92 degrees and even though I wore a tank top and shorts, I shivered.
Suddenly I heard Mom scream, "AH-H-H No! No!"
Startled, I ran from the bathroom, calling, "Mom? Mom, what is wrong?"
No answer came except . . . sobbing.
When I reached the kitchen Mom clutched her chest, her face the color of chalk. "Mom, Mom what is it? Are you having chest pains?" I asked as I crouched next to her.
Shaking, she hoarsely voiced, "No-o, the . . . the radio."
Nothing about this made sense because when I turned towards the radio I could hear Ranger Bill still on. Just then the morning radio host broke in to make an announcement.
"Folks, it has just been confirmed, A bombing occurred at the Olympic Park in Atlanta, Georgia during the wee hours this morning. There are unconfirmed reports as to the number of fatalities and injuries. The investigation is still ongoing. We will continue to break in with details as needed. Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming."
Shocked, I collapsed into a nearby chair. Moments passed as Mom calmed herself. Then her eyes locked with mine. I reached for her and she clasped my hand as we bowed our heads in prayer. The smell of warm, buttery cinnamon wafted from the oven and lingered in the air around us. Foremost in our minds were the thoughts of the families and victims in Atlanta. I'll never forget the words we prayed in unison.
"Lord, we come to you with heavy hearts today. People are suffering in Atlanta and elsewhere. Please, Father. Let Your Will be done, not ours, but Yours. Comfort and sustain those who are hurting right now. Thank you that You can always call on us to pray, in Jesus' name, Amen."
As I took a sip of tea, my friend said, "Wow! That is sure some story."
I smiled, then replied, "Yeah, it is. Today, we face similar situations all over the world, and it is more important than ever that people always, always take time to pray."
"The effective fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much"
(James 5:16 NKJV).
"Where Were You When the Olympic Park Bombing Occured?"
The question from my friend startled me. When I agreed to do the interview I had no idea what to expect. I knew she wanted to ask me some questions about my time in South Carolina. Well, that certainly took place then. We were sitting in my house, sipping tea when the subject came up. Reflecting on that event, I smiled. It was one of my favorite memories of Mom. The day I learned how important taking time to pray could be. . .
I remember it as a warm summer day in Sumter, South Carolina. Sunny golden light danced across the carpeted living room and onto the kitchen table as we prepared to start the day. At 7:45 a.m. I checked Mom's blood sugar-140. So I prepared an insulin syringe and gave her, her morning shot while the griddle warmed. A few minutes later, I served our breakfast of hot blueberry pancakes and sizzling sausage with orange juice and coffee. By 8:30 we had eaten and I had washed the breakfast dishes.
As I put the dishes away I asked Mom, "What do you want to do today?"
I knew what the answer would be. It's what we did every Saturday.
"Let's start with baking cinnnamon rolls,then maybe, some chocolate chip cookies or pies later." Mom replied her eyes lit with a smile, "You know how Uncle Bob and Aunt Mary love them."
Yeah, I know." I laughed. "It seems we can't keep them around long enough to satisfy their sweet tooth."
"Or mine." Mom added with a laugh.
As I began setting out the pans and utensils, I reflected on our routine. Every Saturday morning, as we listened to the Christian radio serial programs, Mom and I baked sugar free baked goods. I did most of the physical work since Mom had suffered a stroke a few years before. But it in no way diminished her joy of baking or the time we shared together. As I set the final ingredient on the table, Mom's mood changed.
"Honey, we need to keep praying. That ominous sense of trouble I mentioned a few weeks ago is stronger than ever today. I don't know what it means. . . I hope nothing bad is going to happen but we just need to keep praying."
"Okay, Mom." I had felt the same troubling sense of unease for a couple of weeks now. I knew from Mom's teaching, and from my own experience, never argue with God when He impresses a need for His people to pray.
About an hour later, we were halfway through the second batch of cinnamon rolls, with the first one in the oven baking. Suddenly I had to go to the bathroom.
"Mom I'll be right back." I yelled as I ran down the hallway. The hall clock read 9:00 a.m. Mom's favorite radio program Ranger Bill was on. In the bathroom the words, "Prayer is the essence of our walk with Jesus. It is the pipeline through which He hears us." floated through my mind. Outside the thermometer read 92 degrees and even though I wore a tank top and shorts, I shivered.
Suddenly I heard Mom scream, "AH-H-H No! No!"
Startled, I ran from the bathroom, calling, "Mom? Mom, what is wrong?"
No answer came except . . . sobbing.
When I reached the kitchen Mom clutched her chest, her face the color of chalk. "Mom, Mom what is it? Are you having chest pains?" I asked as I crouched next to her.
Shaking, she hoarsely voiced, "No-o, the . . . the radio."
Nothing about this made sense because when I turned towards the radio I could hear Ranger Bill still on. Just then the morning radio host broke in to make an announcement.
"Folks, it has just been confirmed, A bombing occurred at the Olympic Park in Atlanta, Georgia during the wee hours this morning. There are unconfirmed reports as to the number of fatalities and injuries. The investigation is still ongoing. We will continue to break in with details as needed. Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming."
Shocked, I collapsed into a nearby chair. Moments passed as Mom calmed herself. Then her eyes locked with mine. I reached for her and she clasped my hand as we bowed our heads in prayer. The smell of warm, buttery cinnamon wafted from the oven and lingered in the air around us. Foremost in our minds were the thoughts of the families and victims in Atlanta. I'll never forget the words we prayed in unison.
"Lord, we come to you with heavy hearts today. People are suffering in Atlanta and elsewhere. Please, Father. Let Your Will be done, not ours, but Yours. Comfort and sustain those who are hurting right now. Thank you that You can always call on us to pray, in Jesus' name, Amen."
As I took a sip of tea, my friend said, "Wow! That is sure some story."
I smiled, then replied, "Yeah, it is. Today, we face similar situations all over the world, and it is more important than ever that people always, always take time to pray."
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Grace That Sustains
Moment By Moment-weekly column
Overcoming Obstacles-Never Give Up!
I was nearing twenty when my world tumbled to the ground. One morning Mom and I walked to town, as we came to the main street, Mom said, "Honey, come on. We have to hurry to get across."
I remember thinking as we moved into the street, What's going on? My legs are tingling. Looking up I saw a semi trailer bearing down on us. The driver's eyes locked with mine and I thought I would faint. I managed to pick up my pace. We walked halfway across when my legs went numb, and I hit the pavement.
Mom's face reflected my own horror and fear. Then she grabbed me under the shoulders, and muttered, "God give me strength." Mom hauled me to the other side of the street. We both collapsed as the semi roared by.
Mom went into the grocery store next door and called for help. We waited only fifteen minutes for a ride but it seemed endless. My mind raced with questions. Why can't I feel my hand touching my thigh? Why can't I stand or walk? Why am I so sick?
At the doctor's office I underwent extensive testing. Dr. Rafe told us what wasn't wrong. "Belle, you don't have cancer, polio, or a tumor."
"Should I celebrate?" I wassn't sure.
Dr. Rafe replied, "No. I wouldn't. What you do have is Multiple Scleriosis."
Mom voiced my thoughts when she asked, "What do we do now?"
Dr. Rafe soberly replied, "There is nothing you can do. Go home and prepare to die."
"What?" Shaken to the core, I stammered. "There has to be something we can do. Is there someone we can contact for more information?"
Dr. Rafe answered, "Not in Indiana. I have asked all my colleagues here and no one knows anything. Keep track of your symptoms and rest. That is the best prescription I can give you."
During the next couple of months, I stumbled and fell when I tried to walk on my own so I used a walker for stability. The lesions developing in my brain caused severe headaches, blurred vision, and tingling in my limbs, followed by numbness. As time went by my health worsened and I became homebound. I felt depressed and discouraged, and it was a struggle to get out of bed, much less make it to the bathroom in time.
I raged at God. Even though friends and family come to visit, where are You in all of this?
But Mom never doubted God or what He would accomplish in my life. Instead, she encouraged me to "Write whatever comes to mind, but never, never give up!"
Privately, I railed at God. Why is this happening to me? All my life I've battled health problems. Now MS. Haven't I suffered enough?
One night, almost a year after my diagnosis, I lay in bed reading and praying. Even though it seemed as if my prayers bounced off the ceiling, I wouldn't give up. I ache with emptiness and a thirst for a closer relationship with You. Do You hear me at all?
Mom lay asleep in the next bedroom. I took a deep breath. The fragrance of lavender, like the sachets Grandma used to tuck in Mom's linen drawer, brought a smile to my face as it permeated the room. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I knew God's presence was in the room with me.
As stones drop in a wishing well so these words from Philippians 4:13 and Zechariah 4:6 echoed in my mind, "My child, in My strength you can do all things. Not by might nor by power but by My Spirit."
I cried.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, I knew I was made of sterner stuff. I no longer wallowed in self-pity. From home, I started a prayer newsletter for the shut-ins of the church Mom and I attended. I also started compiling books of poems, stories and letters for my nieces.
Now as I sit at the computer typing, I smile. The fatigue I battle is a breath away, but the Grace God gives me sustains me moment by moment.
Planned for God's Pleasure: Worship
Prayer is an important part of the Person I choose to be,
it is a conscious choice of worship that sets My Spirit free.
I ask myself the question daily, 'What would Jesus do?'
than try to live my life, as an example, before you.
Finding hope where there is none,
means reaching upwards to Jesus, God's Son.
His nail-scarred hands clasp hungrily to mine
while He says, "Cling to me for I Am the true living Vine."
So, for every prayer of a person's name that enters my mind,
you will find,
my greatest treasure
is, knowing you were created for God's Pleasure.
Written By:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
March 14, 2006
Overcoming Obstacles-Never Give Up!
I was nearing twenty when my world tumbled to the ground. One morning Mom and I walked to town, as we came to the main street, Mom said, "Honey, come on. We have to hurry to get across."
I remember thinking as we moved into the street, What's going on? My legs are tingling. Looking up I saw a semi trailer bearing down on us. The driver's eyes locked with mine and I thought I would faint. I managed to pick up my pace. We walked halfway across when my legs went numb, and I hit the pavement.
Mom's face reflected my own horror and fear. Then she grabbed me under the shoulders, and muttered, "God give me strength." Mom hauled me to the other side of the street. We both collapsed as the semi roared by.
Mom went into the grocery store next door and called for help. We waited only fifteen minutes for a ride but it seemed endless. My mind raced with questions. Why can't I feel my hand touching my thigh? Why can't I stand or walk? Why am I so sick?
At the doctor's office I underwent extensive testing. Dr. Rafe told us what wasn't wrong. "Belle, you don't have cancer, polio, or a tumor."
"Should I celebrate?" I wassn't sure.
Dr. Rafe replied, "No. I wouldn't. What you do have is Multiple Scleriosis."
Mom voiced my thoughts when she asked, "What do we do now?"
Dr. Rafe soberly replied, "There is nothing you can do. Go home and prepare to die."
"What?" Shaken to the core, I stammered. "There has to be something we can do. Is there someone we can contact for more information?"
Dr. Rafe answered, "Not in Indiana. I have asked all my colleagues here and no one knows anything. Keep track of your symptoms and rest. That is the best prescription I can give you."
During the next couple of months, I stumbled and fell when I tried to walk on my own so I used a walker for stability. The lesions developing in my brain caused severe headaches, blurred vision, and tingling in my limbs, followed by numbness. As time went by my health worsened and I became homebound. I felt depressed and discouraged, and it was a struggle to get out of bed, much less make it to the bathroom in time.
I raged at God. Even though friends and family come to visit, where are You in all of this?
But Mom never doubted God or what He would accomplish in my life. Instead, she encouraged me to "Write whatever comes to mind, but never, never give up!"
Privately, I railed at God. Why is this happening to me? All my life I've battled health problems. Now MS. Haven't I suffered enough?
One night, almost a year after my diagnosis, I lay in bed reading and praying. Even though it seemed as if my prayers bounced off the ceiling, I wouldn't give up. I ache with emptiness and a thirst for a closer relationship with You. Do You hear me at all?
Mom lay asleep in the next bedroom. I took a deep breath. The fragrance of lavender, like the sachets Grandma used to tuck in Mom's linen drawer, brought a smile to my face as it permeated the room. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I knew God's presence was in the room with me.
As stones drop in a wishing well so these words from Philippians 4:13 and Zechariah 4:6 echoed in my mind, "My child, in My strength you can do all things. Not by might nor by power but by My Spirit."
I cried.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, I knew I was made of sterner stuff. I no longer wallowed in self-pity. From home, I started a prayer newsletter for the shut-ins of the church Mom and I attended. I also started compiling books of poems, stories and letters for my nieces.
Now as I sit at the computer typing, I smile. The fatigue I battle is a breath away, but the Grace God gives me sustains me moment by moment.
Planned for God's Pleasure: Worship
Prayer is an important part of the Person I choose to be,
it is a conscious choice of worship that sets My Spirit free.
I ask myself the question daily, 'What would Jesus do?'
than try to live my life, as an example, before you.
Finding hope where there is none,
means reaching upwards to Jesus, God's Son.
His nail-scarred hands clasp hungrily to mine
while He says, "Cling to me for I Am the true living Vine."
So, for every prayer of a person's name that enters my mind,
you will find,
my greatest treasure
is, knowing you were created for God's Pleasure.
Written By:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
March 14, 2006
Saturday, March 11, 2006
An Invitation to Worship
Grace Moment By Moment-weekly column
Psalm 118:24,
"This is the day which the Lord has made, we will rejoice and be glad in it" (NKJV Thomas Nelson, Inc 1984).
I rush to Praise Team Practice at church. My mind races with all the details of schoolwork I have yet to do. When I walk in, though, I stop and stare. People are praying and the air resonates as if an electricity charge permeates the sanctuary. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. At once, I feel I am an intruder treading on sacred ground.
I close my eyes and imagine I am transported to an ancient monastery where monks chant in a cadence as old as time. The air is redolent of frankincense, balsam and ginger . The spices mingle with the drip, drip of beeswax candles on crackling parchment paper.
In the mist of all this the awe of God's Presence fills the sanctuary with the fragrance of roses and lavender. Suddenly I am no longer an intruder but welcome as a friend. Calm infuses my being cleansing me of all doubt and fear. Time resumes as I open my eyes and step into the modernday shoes of a Praise Team member who, like the monks of ancient times, lift my voice in songs of praise. I am thankful to be here, now, so others can hear of God's loving Grace.
Profiling Ministries of Grace
Heart to Heart: An Interview with Marilyn Waughmans
In the Mishawaka/South Bend Indiana area you will find many individuals who are dedicated to serving low-income households. However, there is one who I've come to know as a good friend. Her name is Marilyn Waughmans and I'd like to share with you what I know about her.
About Marilyn Waughmans
Marilyn is a caring, compassionate, humble woman who selflessly gives of her time to help those in need. She is uncomfortable when praise is offered for what she does because she would rather have the attention focused on the people she serves.
People like your mother, father, sister, brother or grandparent who found themselves without the means to pay for both medicine and food. Instead they come to Marilyn and most times, she can help with one or the other. Sometimes both.
I had the privilege of interviewing her this week.
Here are some of the questions I asked her and her responses.
About Stone Soup Community
Q. What inspired you to become involved with Stone Soup Community?
A. I had been working in another agency that served the low-income population when the executive director was fired and everyone else walked out. There were thirty plus volunteers with no place to work. Stone Soup Community was born from that.
Q. How did you get involved in social and civic matters?
A. I believe strongly that a human right is a terrible thing to waste. For that reason I enjoy doing things to make peoples' lives better.
Q. What are the needs of the community?
A. There are myriad needs in the community. Hunger, homelessness and people who have no clue where to go for help. Lack of transportation. Being able to find suitable work for a living wage.
Q. Describe for me what happens when a client comes to visit?
A. First, we assess what the crises needs are. Beyond that we address the issues that cause the crises. Either by ourselves or in collaboration with another agency, we resolve the crises of the moment and resolve the issues that precipitated it.
Q. What is one of your most rewarding experiences?
A. Recently, two young men lacking transportation and looking for jobs came in requesting bus passes. They received bus tokens equal to three round trips, and some decent clothes they found in our free clothes closet. Afterwards they went job hunting. They returned, demonstrated they had found work and then received bus passes.
Q. What frustrates you the most?
A. The thing that frustrates me the most, is when a client refuses to cooperate to help themselves. Like, when we send them for an appointment for say, budget counseling, and they don't keep the appointment.
Q. Which direction do you see Stone Soup Community going in the future?
A. We are in the process of learning ourselves, and training counselors to solve issues in addition to, bandage patching them. For example, encouraging collaboration between other helping agencies, and using common data with permission of clients in order to serve them better.
Advice For The Community
Q. What are some ways the people in the local community can get involved in Stone Soup Community?
A. Volunteer, give money and pray for us.
If you would like to help or have a desire to start a similar ministry of Grace, please feel free to use the following:
Contact Information:
Stone Soup Community
Marilyn Waughmans
South Bend Office:
574-968-5204
Mishawaka Office:
574-250-1922
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Psalm 118:24,
"This is the day which the Lord has made, we will rejoice and be glad in it" (NKJV Thomas Nelson, Inc 1984).
I rush to Praise Team Practice at church. My mind races with all the details of schoolwork I have yet to do. When I walk in, though, I stop and stare. People are praying and the air resonates as if an electricity charge permeates the sanctuary. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. At once, I feel I am an intruder treading on sacred ground.
I close my eyes and imagine I am transported to an ancient monastery where monks chant in a cadence as old as time. The air is redolent of frankincense, balsam and ginger . The spices mingle with the drip, drip of beeswax candles on crackling parchment paper.
In the mist of all this the awe of God's Presence fills the sanctuary with the fragrance of roses and lavender. Suddenly I am no longer an intruder but welcome as a friend. Calm infuses my being cleansing me of all doubt and fear. Time resumes as I open my eyes and step into the modernday shoes of a Praise Team member who, like the monks of ancient times, lift my voice in songs of praise. I am thankful to be here, now, so others can hear of God's loving Grace.
Profiling Ministries of Grace
Heart to Heart: An Interview with Marilyn Waughmans
In the Mishawaka/South Bend Indiana area you will find many individuals who are dedicated to serving low-income households. However, there is one who I've come to know as a good friend. Her name is Marilyn Waughmans and I'd like to share with you what I know about her.
About Marilyn Waughmans
Marilyn is a caring, compassionate, humble woman who selflessly gives of her time to help those in need. She is uncomfortable when praise is offered for what she does because she would rather have the attention focused on the people she serves.
People like your mother, father, sister, brother or grandparent who found themselves without the means to pay for both medicine and food. Instead they come to Marilyn and most times, she can help with one or the other. Sometimes both.
I had the privilege of interviewing her this week.
Here are some of the questions I asked her and her responses.
About Stone Soup Community
Q. What inspired you to become involved with Stone Soup Community?
A. I had been working in another agency that served the low-income population when the executive director was fired and everyone else walked out. There were thirty plus volunteers with no place to work. Stone Soup Community was born from that.
Q. How did you get involved in social and civic matters?
A. I believe strongly that a human right is a terrible thing to waste. For that reason I enjoy doing things to make peoples' lives better.
Q. What are the needs of the community?
A. There are myriad needs in the community. Hunger, homelessness and people who have no clue where to go for help. Lack of transportation. Being able to find suitable work for a living wage.
Q. Describe for me what happens when a client comes to visit?
A. First, we assess what the crises needs are. Beyond that we address the issues that cause the crises. Either by ourselves or in collaboration with another agency, we resolve the crises of the moment and resolve the issues that precipitated it.
Q. What is one of your most rewarding experiences?
A. Recently, two young men lacking transportation and looking for jobs came in requesting bus passes. They received bus tokens equal to three round trips, and some decent clothes they found in our free clothes closet. Afterwards they went job hunting. They returned, demonstrated they had found work and then received bus passes.
Q. What frustrates you the most?
A. The thing that frustrates me the most, is when a client refuses to cooperate to help themselves. Like, when we send them for an appointment for say, budget counseling, and they don't keep the appointment.
Q. Which direction do you see Stone Soup Community going in the future?
A. We are in the process of learning ourselves, and training counselors to solve issues in addition to, bandage patching them. For example, encouraging collaboration between other helping agencies, and using common data with permission of clients in order to serve them better.
Advice For The Community
Q. What are some ways the people in the local community can get involved in Stone Soup Community?
A. Volunteer, give money and pray for us.
If you would like to help or have a desire to start a similar ministry of Grace, please feel free to use the following:
Contact Information:
Stone Soup Community
Marilyn Waughmans
South Bend Office:
574-968-5204
Mishawaka Office:
574-250-1922
Silence
The stillness of time as you wait in the car during rush hour traffic,
the space between musical notes,
the calm before a storm,
the eerie quiet of a snowbound forest,
In all of these one hears the voice of God.
So wherever one travels across life's sod
One is comforted by the essence,
Of His Presence.
Written on:
April 25, 1994.Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
A Fistful of Grace
Hello!
Welcome to my website. I'm Belle Anne Leslie and I'm a freelance writer. Sarting now I'll be posting a column entitled "Grace Moment By Moment." This column will feature ancedotes, poems and Scripture verses to encourage my readers. Another regular feature will be excerpts of my works in progress; fiction and nonfiction books.
Today's column focus is:
"How much Grace do we really need?"
Grace is God's gift. There is nothing we can do to earn it or to buy it. It is simply a gift we either accept or reject.
Think of it like this: If somebody gives you a shiny red present with a big bow and it wasn't your birthday or an anniversary gift, would you accept it or refuse it?
Too many times we panic because we don't get what we think we need when we need it. But if we are honest with ourselves, it's what we want instead of what we need. God's Grace is like that. We keep asking for more of it but, instead of a fistful or cup God gives us a teaspoon. Much to our surprise, it is more than enough.
Today I had my rugs cleaned professionally. God surprised me when an anonymous donor gave me the money through a friend at church. The only stipulation was I had to use it to clean my carpets. The Lord knew how sick I have been, and while I didn't pray for this gift specifically God answered it all the same.
God's grace is a miraculous thing. It brightens everyone's day when someone shares a blessing they receive. So please share the blessings God gives you with someone else. In this poem there's an idea of how you can do that.
Welcome to my website. I'm Belle Anne Leslie and I'm a freelance writer. Sarting now I'll be posting a column entitled "Grace Moment By Moment." This column will feature ancedotes, poems and Scripture verses to encourage my readers. Another regular feature will be excerpts of my works in progress; fiction and nonfiction books.
Today's column focus is:
"How much Grace do we really need?"
Grace is God's gift. There is nothing we can do to earn it or to buy it. It is simply a gift we either accept or reject.
Think of it like this: If somebody gives you a shiny red present with a big bow and it wasn't your birthday or an anniversary gift, would you accept it or refuse it?
Too many times we panic because we don't get what we think we need when we need it. But if we are honest with ourselves, it's what we want instead of what we need. God's Grace is like that. We keep asking for more of it but, instead of a fistful or cup God gives us a teaspoon. Much to our surprise, it is more than enough.
Today I had my rugs cleaned professionally. God surprised me when an anonymous donor gave me the money through a friend at church. The only stipulation was I had to use it to clean my carpets. The Lord knew how sick I have been, and while I didn't pray for this gift specifically God answered it all the same.
God's grace is a miraculous thing. It brightens everyone's day when someone shares a blessing they receive. So please share the blessings God gives you with someone else. In this poem there's an idea of how you can do that.
Thornless Grace
When a friend calls to say hello
and I hear his/her voice,
I know God is with me.
When a butterfly on the air flits
hovering around my face, my spirit lifts
and I know God is with me.
On a gray cold day, when the sun plays peek-a-boo
betwixt a cloud or two
I know God is with me.
As the cool crisp bite of a winter's morn,
drives the birds to search for corn
scattered on the ground, I know God is with me.
As the heavenly scents of of warm ginger, lingering rosemary and sharp cheddar
bubble from the oven, I am reminded of mom and dad who are both gone
and I know God is with me.
I know there is no such thing as "thorn less grace"
for without the thorns one often forgets to seek God's Face.
"'My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness'
So when life grows frail and you become weak and worn
remember, I AM is with you."
Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie
Written on:
January 10, 2006
Scripture Reference:
2 Corinthians 12:7-10.
All Scripture Quotations are from (NKJV Thomas Nelson, Inc. 1984.)
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