In my opinion, one of the greatest obstacles the Church has had to deal with over the years is an “either/or” mentality.  This is manifested in various ways, but particularly when it comes to feelings or experiences.  Let me say right off that I would not have been a Christian over forty years ago if the Spirit of God had not dramatically filled my eyes with the most brilliant light you could imagine.  I knew in a millisecond that Jesus was real.  In fact, when I caught my breath, all I could say was, “He’s real!”  “He’s real!”   A week later when the Holy Spirit came upon me and I began to speak in tongues, there was an overwhelming sense of God’s presence and a peace that drew me ever closer to the One who had apprehended me the previous week.  Many times I have sensed the manifest presence of God and have known the refreshing that comes with such an encounter.  Such encounters have never lessened my intimacy with God; they have fueled an increase for more.

So, do I love such moments in my journey of faith?  You betcha!  Is my faith solely built on experiences and feelings?  No, but I wouldn’t want to miss out on those encounters for anything in this world.   Was Paul ashamed of being caught up in the third heaven?   Did Peter apologize for going into a trance where he received amazing revelation concerning Gentiles being introduced to the same Savior as Peter and his band of brothers and sisters?  We can’t say, “Come Holy Spirit and have your way,” then restrict what He can and can’t do. 

From Genesis to Revelation, almost every page is filled with supernatural demonstrations of God’s Kingdom invading ours, with countless feelings and experiences threaded throughout.  Yet there has always been this very vocal outcry that decries such manifestations as dangerous and for believers to stay clear of getting caught up in emotions and experiences. 

Being grounded in God’s word is essential.  Anything that cannot be held up to the standard of His word should be suspect, but the problem is not with the non-negotiable truths of our faith, it’s with those who make judgments born out of preferences and interpretations.   When something makes us afraid or takes away our control we tend to ignore it, or stand against it.   Many if not most of the major denominations began out of revival, out of unexplained manifestations that denoted God’s Kingdom invading ours.  Believer’s going to excess that’s beyond God’s intentions in any revival period is a given, but throwing out the power the church desperately needs to demonstrate the reality of God’s Kingdom on earth is foolish.

Why not embrace both - the sound biblical doctrines of the Christian faith with the awesome raw power to demonstrate what we profess?  

The truth is, who is more in the flesh, the one who swings on the chandelier in “Jesus’ Name,” or the one who hides comfortably behind theological studies and purity of doctrine?  Why can there not be both - sound biblical doctrine along with thrilling demonstrations of God power and presence on the earth.   A passionate love for the One who gave us a new life and a wholehearted pursuit of His Kingdom ought to take care of the “either/or” problem.  Don’t caution me about experiences and feeling, and I won’t caution you about clarifying true theological content.

I didn't despair at all in turning seventy.  It was far less traumatic than when I turned thirty.  I guess when you reach a prominent senior age, you’re pretty much resigned to settle in and embrace each and every day granted.  However, my gratitude level has leaped amazingly high with the awareness that I am enjoying life as never before!   I can only declare with as much gusto as possible, “The best days are before me and Judy.”

Following the One who broke into my life over forty years ago has been one thrill after another.  I had an extreme makeover when Jesus revealed Himself to me on that wondrous day, and the journey He set me on has been a “fasten your seatbelt ride” of breathtaking proportions.  When I asked Judy to marry me over thirty-eight years ago, she buckled up the seatbelt also, and together we’ve lived out our dreams with an occasional nightmare popping up now and then. 

Society makes it clear that the older you become, the less relevant you become.  The common collective thinking is that at a certain age, you are to gracefully exit stage right and allow the younger, more dynamic members in the various spheres of life to lead the way.  That mindset has some merit as long as the senior community is fully incorporated with society’s move forward.  The whole concept of retirement has been a horrible solution for older folks.  How do you retire from life?   How do you retire from dreams and destiny?  What if Noah had quit working on the ark? What if Abraham had scoffed at having a son at such an old age?  What if Samuel in his later years had missed out on anointing David as king?  What if John had been too settled to write one of the most amazing books in all of scripture?

I love the Church and how the Spirit of God pulls every believer, young and old, into the tapestry of His grand design.  The zeal of the Lord is not just for the younger generation; it is for all followers of Jesus who have put their hands to the plow.  Retire?  Baloney!  For every senior in the church who withdraws from the most exciting adventure ever planned from the beginning of time – shame on you!

I want to be among those whom Ern Baxter used to say would sit around the campfire in heaven swapping stories.  What if the most remarkable event in your life is set for tomorrow?  What if the finest chapter in your life will be written tomorrow?  What if you will be used tomorrow to change a life that will change the world?  Bailing out on knowing more of God and His love, on extending the Kingdom of God in power, and mentoring the ones who need it, is not an option for us seniors.   

To be honest, I do miss the ability of leaping over tall buildings in a single bound when I was younger.  Physical prowess, quicker reflexes, and a swift and sure memory have lagged a bit, but a deepening awareness of life, and the sorting out of what is of consequence and what is fluff levels the field.  I am so grateful that God saw fit to call me forth from the tomb I was imprisoned in back in 1967, and that He continues to call me forth into the ever-increasing cliff dwelling experiences of my life today.   My life has been good, it’s good today, and it’s gonna be good tomorrow.  Meanwhile, Judy and I will stay “buckled-up” till we’re done.

A little over eleven years ago, Joanna asked Judy and I, at a moment of weakness on our part, about going to the pound and picking out a dog. Joanna has always had a tender heart for animals, thus she chose the most gently puppy in the facility, crouching over in the corner of the cage. When this mostly beagle puppy entered our home, a collaborative inspiration gave us a fitting name for the newest member of our family. We named her Abbey!

She immediately fit in with the Lowry family, as she quietly stole each of our hearts. I made a very vocal declaration that we would not have a dog in the house. That didn't last long at all. Once she was in, I declared she was not to get up on any of our furniture. Having no idea I had such a heart of putty, Abbey pretty much did whatever she wanted to do. For over eleven years, my role had been to accommodate her any way I could.

There is nothing like the greeting of a dog when you are going through a rough time or when you’re overwhelmed by life itself. Abbey was good at it, and at times made my day when she yelped, jumped and danced all around as the door closed behind me. However, other than the greeting, Abbey rarely expressed love toward any of us, but sought unmerited love and attention. She would back up to you so you could gently scratch her rear, which produced for her unbelievable ecstasy. It really was all about her, and in that we were very obliging.

A few months ago, in the middle of the night, Abbey had a seizure. I didn’t know what to do for her other than hold her till it passed. I have learned since that holding her isn’t a good idea, but let her deal with the seizure on her own. Since that episode, and there had been others, we gave her regular doses of Phenobarbital tablets. What we ended up with was a loopy, glassy-eyed dog that was still as sweet as molasses, but generally tended to live in slow motion. She also appeared to be blind in one eye, and her hearing was questionable.

It’s amazing the love and bonding that can take place between an owner and his pet. Owner seems a bit formal to me, but papa seems a bit much. All I know is our hearts went out to her after that first seizure, and longed and prayed to see her well. A few years ago, Judy prayed for our dying cat Chloe, and she immediately jumped up, ate some food and lived healthily for several more years.

We prayed for Abby, yet over time, she had to endure the effects of what was probably a lesion on the brain. Seeing she was getting worse, we loved on her, prayed for her and tended to whatever needs she had. That’s just what you do.

Today I took her to the vet, and it became clear the only option we had was putting her to sleep. The vet, Jennifer, was extremely compassionate, and explained all they would do in putting her down. I notified each family member, and we agreed this was the course of action we needed to take. I took Abbey back to the clinic and after a tearful time of saying goodbye, scratching her rear, I handed her over to their capable hands.

“Abbey, you were a phenomenal pet! You had such a beautiful face, with eyes that have tantalized us for eleven years. And Abbey, we have learned that what is important to us is important to God. He created you and in some sovereign way ordained you to be with us, or better yet, us with you. In all this, your best interests were always at stake, and we now find comfort in knowing we will again see you in heaven.” If this messes with your theology, so be it. “Abbey, I am happy to say that for eleven years you really have been a man’s best friend! See you later….”

I love Judy’s dad.  He is 86 years old, with a body that doesn’t always cooperate, but a mind that is sharp as a tack.  He loves humor, loves to laugh, and loves to get someone with a funny quip.  He loves his sisters, his two sons, his daughter, and their families.  To grandchildren and great grandchildren, he is known as Pawpaw.  He is self-sufficient and at times impatient and stubborn having come from what many say was the greatest generation of Americans.  He was a young child during the Depression; He was a Marine during WWII.

Bill watched his beloved wife, Caroline pass away over a long four years --- each year more debilitating than the previous.  Caroline’s last days were painful to watch, not the script you would write in a storybook.  Bill agonized that whole period of time, wept a lot, and would easily weep now if conversation dwells just a bit too much on the one he released to heaven.  Caroline waited on Bill their whole marriage as a dutiful southern wife.   Even though this was part of the culture, Caroline had a servant's heart that made her well adapted to serve others.  But the last two or three years of her life, Bill assumed her role and served as faithfully as he could.  It was the most surprising and amazing turn around in my mind because I honestly didn’t think Bill had it in him to do such selfless acts.  That’s when he learned to cook outside of his comfort zone, to bring a glass of water to Caroline’s lips for a drink, or feed her during a meal.  At the end of the day, he and Judy would manage getting her to bed.  When Judy expressed her admiration for all his efforts, Bill simply said, “This is what you do when you’re married.”

Sometime in all this, Bill and I have gotten closer and entered into a Guy Zone, where we joke around, tease one another beyond being father-in-law and son-in-law, but friends.  We are even closer now since I spent hours with him in a Convenient Care Clinic and later in the Emergency Room on Thanksgiving Day.  I also took him to the doctor’s office awhile back, so I have been up close and personal with this remarkable man.

Some thirty-seven years ago, Judy’s dad released his daughter to a man who has led her on a journey not for the faint hearted.  I’m sure he has scratched his head many a time trying to figure out what we have been up to all these years.  He has seen us make decisions that defy common reasoning to a man who lived in a different era. 

In spite of all that, he has saved the best for last in extending his love to a daughter who absolutely adores him, and to a son-in-law who reveres him as a special vessel made by the hands of the Great Potter Himself.  It wouldn’t surprise me if Bill lives to be a hundred or more.  He works almost every day in the yard tending to things that need to be done.   Judy or I asked him why he put so much effort in the yard and house, and he said, “If you stop, you die!”  He understands that being retired has to be managed well.

Bill has not only gotten closer to the Lord these past few years, he enjoys much more peace, along with grace to love and laugh a lot.  He holds on to some principles that seem outdated in this world of a “me first” mentality.  He believes in hard work, taking responsibility for what you do, being on time, being faithful to your spouse, and what you say, you do.  Don’t see much of that these days.

Tip of my hat to you, Bill.  It’s not that you’ve lived 86 years, it’s who you are, and who you are is pretty dang special!  Now, get out in the yard and do some work!