We do own space…a higher realm …a spiritual realm in Jesus name to command all….
Susan Elliott Bell
A devotion to the only One who could have made this entire book possible: Jesus Christ. The title is my dad’s birthday, a written account and confirmation of The Living God calling me to bring my dad into a genuine, organic - bodily relationship with God. My Savior has brought this text forward within me, through the ministry of the Holy Spirit, over the past 34 years.
Without the One, I could have no perspective to understand the natural unfolding of dad’s life. That [He] made this come to pass is nothing any sane believer would question. Having said that, I had to be made part of this, because God uses His people to make the difference in those who are not yet His, as well as those who are. That said, soon after this started, I was told by the Lord that Sue must be involved in this writing as well.
This is the first role of The Spirit, in this world, as summoned by Jesus on the Day of Pentecost. As the scripture states: “our God is Spirit”, and we know any spirit can only be manifest in the physical, so as to be seen. The Spirit has to be in someone in order to carry out His second role - to fully affect the lives of those flourishing in Christ. Yes, the Spirit of God has many other roles, but these are the first two that most believers are aware of.
I want to also thank my lovely wife Susan, a support and witness through my dad’s journey, for all 31 years of our relationship. She and I with God’s presence, loved, led and prayed for both of my parents until mom left to be with the Lord [1/30/07] on dad’s 80th birthday. That day left my dad open to the One, eventually allowing him to live 4+ years following my mom’s departure. When he was first saved, like any new believer, he knew not how to walk, act, speak or even think.
The third role of The Spirit in the body is “making disciples of all men”. My dad had grown increasingly dependent upon my mom during his later years. Her death opened the door for him to be made a disciple (disciplined). The Holy Spirit accomplished this task through me (primarily) as well as Sue as we spent much of our time with him in the anointing of Christ. The next four years were difficult, testing and in many respects equal to my awakening in 1977. My growth was his growth and his growth was my growth. 29 years is a long time to pray for someone and we viscerally feel the true value since all heaven rejoiced when dad was saved.
As this manuscript unfolds, the reader should well appreciate that this story is more than a tale of reconciliation between a father and one of his sons. My physical and emotional survival was in itself, a blessing and many miracles in Christ. I have experienced a tumultuous trans-generational and dysfunctional family, intractable health challenges, multiple accidents, near death experiences, the untimely death of my beloved older brother, divorce, drug addiction and estrangement from my own children, siblings, disinheritance and financial ruin. Yet, I was the one God chose and blessed to teach my dad how to pray and know the word. That Sue and I would then disciple him and bring him before God, as a pure soul - by the power of God within us, is beyond human comprehension. This book may seem out of order, but that is how my life really was - out of order and in chaos, so stay focused and you will benefit immensely.
The calling on my life is exactly what God knew had to happen. I’m eternally grateful He chose me for this task and other tasks that lie ahead. This may be a long introduction, but as you read, keep in mind that God loves you and Jesus is Lord of all that call upon Him.
In Cleveland, Ohio on January 30th, 1927 my dad was born to Michael and Adeline Bell. He was an only child, living his first 14 years between his birthplace and Pittston, Pennsylvania. After dad and my grandparents moved to Pittston, they settled on a farm shared with dad’s great uncle. As with many in that era, the family of 3 had more than enough challenge just staying alive. I am sure they did not want any more children for that reason more than any other.
I learned my grandfather was a very self-disciplined man and mechanically mastered most things easily, not unlike his son by dad’s own confession. He was also a self - taught guitarist. I’m sure had I a chance to meet him, I would be a fan of his many accomplishments. As a child, I admired my dad’s ability to do much the same, short of the music part. In fact, dad was far from musical at all. Grandpa was also an accomplished fighter and fearless of spirit, yet not large of stature. His pictures proved he was well groomed, well dressed and good-looking as dad many times stated. My brother, named after him, was much the same in dress, grooming and most talents including guitar.
Grandma was much grandpa’s junior at the time they lived on the farm and until dad and gram left PA to move to Chicago. No pictures of gram were shown to us and if I recall, gram [I was told] was well under her husband’s age when they had married.
Gram may have been reared a catholic, but grandpa did not allow his wife (or child) to attend any church. He enforced this edict with an extremely serious, strict and disciplined nature. When dad was age 7, he was at a church without grandpa knowing of it. This is where dad first saw the Bible and read John 3:16. Grandpa was furious. When dad returned home, he suspended his boy close to their ceiling and verbally accosted him for going where he was told not to. Some years later when dad and mom shared that with me (dad told mom about it years earlier), I could only imagine the fear dad had experienced as a child. Age 7 was the last time my dad saw a bible, until he was saved. As we were growing up, dad never mentioned church and the Bible was never talked about in our home nor was there one [ever] found there.
Now, back to dad’s childhood and this is where it gets much worse. It was recorded in their Pittston, PA hometown newspaper, that grandpa was killed by his uncle (dad’s great uncle), on their shared farm. Dad was 14 years old at the time. Although he never spoke of this, I believe my dad witnessed the incident. It is alleged that grandma was a Jewish refugee and that was the reason for the original confrontation since the article states: “this is not about chickens”. Well before he had accepted the Lord, I did ask dad, if we were part Jewish? He abruptly said no and turned away. On grandma’s death certificate, there are no names for parents and no one ever told of her true age in my younger years much less where she was from. When asked, she always told us her mother was from Lithuania and could not speak English. That was enough for anybody to question where she actually came from. Soon after the killing, gram and dad migrated to Chicago and that was the beginning of dad’s work life as a 14-year-old boy having the responsibility of a full grown man. By necessity, gram worked full time as well at a Harding’s restaurant. For the next 3 to 4 years, dad did what any workingman in the 1940s did as much as he could - work! Then in 1944, he ended up in the US Navy aboard 3 different WW II ships following boot camp at the Illinois Great Lakes Naval Training Center. An Honorable discharge in February of 1946 brought him back to his new hometown of Chicago.
Soon the one love of his life (my mom) enters dad’s life and following only a second date, they marry. Off on dad’s Harley, the couple begins one of the most tumultuous and iniquity stained families I have ever heard of, let alone survived. As with most, who are not Bible savvy, much less literate, they each had no idea how much baggage they carried into their marriage, since grandpa’s killing was not brought to the Cross.
our while there.