One Half of a Century

This morning as I closed my leather backed companion after finishing John's Revelation, it dawned on me that it's now been 50 years since I made a commitment to read through the scriptures, at least annually.

That life changing discipline was precipitated by some strange mountain lady whom I had never met.

No, I'm not talking about my wife, but rather a 93 year-old lady dressed in a paisley print, feed-sack dress whom I met in Cullasaja, NC in 1975.

My wife, LaDonna and I had by then been “churched” since 1974, perhaps providentially entrusted to our first pastor.  We had met him and his dear wife through an interdenominational prayer breakfast in the small town where we both taught school.

I will always be grateful for those with whom God has encircled our lives since our marriage.

Two young teachers, both of us  somewhat maverick relative to our conservative religious upbringing.  Neither of us had been spiritually “infected” during our childhood, or so we acted and thought!

Her parents were Missouri Synod Lutheran and mine, longtime Pentecostal.  We were light-years apart in doctrine!

Our then Methodist school principal, sensing our need for stabilization, had invited us to a Friday Morning Prayer Breakfast at the local Holiday Inn. That seemed safe, as church was not even on our radar.  And afterall, he was our boss, so we went!

I had earlier and unexpectedly come to Christ on January 3, 1973 in my dad's living room late one night, when my stewardess girlfriend was out of town. 

Then later, in March on a Sunday evening, after a confusing moment with her fiancé, the English teacher across the hall, LaDonna had given her life to Christ.  

We began dating and decided to give our Christian roots another chance.  We would later marry December 23,1973.

Neither of us had been enthusiastic about our parents' church life, yet pieces and parts were beginning to make sense as we fellowshipped with other church folk through the prayer breakfast.  

Eventually, our lives would be deeply influenced by a Presbyterian pastor, whom we also met by way of the prayer breakfast.  His life and ministry so powerfully displayed the power of the Spirit.

We decided to give our parents' Sunday morning church ritual another shot.

Ironically, the church chosen was a small Assemblies of God congregation, whose new pastor had invited that out-of-town Presbyterian to hold a revival.  

Uhmmm, guess you could say that our religious trajectory has been quite ecumenical!

It was that AG pastor that would later invite us to spend a week with him and his wife at a “camp meeting” in Cullasaja.

By then I was full bore into my new life and looking for “trade secrets” from anyone whose presence seemed to manifest the Spirit of Christ.

One evening as we were walking down from the sleeping quarters on the Campmeeting grounds, up walks this 93 year-old whose felt presence preceded her by yards of distance.

I immediately introduced myself and standing well within the perimeter of her private space, I boldly inquired of her spiritual source! 

Startled somewhat by an assertive 27 year old stranger, her retort was “Sonny Boy, I don't know what you mean?”

My immediate reply, “But I could feel your presence long before you were near me, tell me what you do that is different from most Christians?”

She hesitated and then said, “Well, come to think of it, I have read the Bible from Genesis to Maps every year since I was eleven years old!” 

In case you're wondering, most versions display maps in the back of the book!

My vow that day was to do just that, and I have now for a half-century!

Life-changing, though I must say, it seems like a new book with each passing year!