Sampler

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 It was my freshman year at Morris Brown College, thousands of miles away from home in Atlanta, Georgia. Then it happened: It was early one Saturday morning. I heard a voice over the dorm loudspeakers shouting, “Get up and get out of the building!” At first, I brushed it off, thinking someone was pulling a prank. But then I heard it again, more urgent. I opened my dorm room door—and thick black smoke filled the hallway.

Panic shot through me. I turned and screamed to my roommate that the dorm was on fire. He jumped up, and we both bolted down the smoke-darkened hallway. Our room was on the 10th floor, But as I reached the 5th-floor staircase landing, everything went black—I passed out.

At that moment, I felt my soul leave my body. I was no longer on campus—I was somewhere else entirely. It felt like heaven. I saw a brilliant throne with two angels beside it. But strangely, the throne was empty. I cried out, “I’m not ready to die yet!”  In the blink of an eye, I returned to my body. My roommate was carrying me out of the building. Later, he told me that it was the spirit of his deceased grandmother that led him to me.

That moment shook me awake in every way. God had given me a glimpse of something eternal. I believe He heard my cry and said, “Not yet.” 

Thankfully, no one was hurt in the fire. However, it was reported that drug dealers set the dorm on fire because a student owed them money. The semester was just about over, so for the next several weeks, we were housed in a motel. I told my parents that I was done living in Atlanta and this college. After the semester ended, I moved back to Pittsburgh.

All was not bad in Atlanta because I had a secret agenda that I didn't share with my parents, which was why I chose to attend college there. And it was this: to dance for the Godfather of Soul, James Brown, on his TV dance show "Future Shock." It was a copycat of Soul Train, filmed in Atlanta. As fate would have it, my college roommate knew one of the dancers on the show and connected me with her, giving me a chance to dance on "Future Shock." Talk about a dream come true! I can remember the first time I got to see James Brown up and close. He was not very personal; he just came to do his thing on camera. But it was fun.

As I look back on it all, that was the path I had to take to fulfill my dream and a reminder that life had something greater in store for me. It was God's grace, plain and simple. He gave me another chance. And with that chance, I carry a more profound sense of calling and responsibility. I know now—I'm here for a reason.

Reflection Prompts 

• When have you felt the nearness of God during a life-threatening or emotional moment?
• What path do you think fate has you on to reach a desired dream?
• In what ways are you now living with a greater spiritual purpose because of that second chance?

 The annual school picnic was always the highlight of my school year. It meant the books were closed, the tests were done, and it was time to celebrate another year of learning. The destination? West View Park. But looking back, I realize they were small glimpses of God’s joy and delight over us when we persevere.

West View Park was pure magic to a kid. From the moment we arrived, the smell of French fries, grilled hot dogs, and warm cotton candy filled the air. My excitement would build as I stepped through the gates, surrounded by the sounds of children laughing, rides creaking, and bells chiming from the arcade.

The park had everything: roller coasters, haunted houses, pony rides, and a game center full of flashing lights and chances to win a prize. But for me, the most thrilling and peaceful ride of all was the train. It snaked through a wooded part of the park, dipping under the rickety wooden tracks of the Big Dips roller coaster. As the train chugged along, I’d feel both wonder and relief—not everyone wanted to brave those towering coasters, and I was perfectly fine staying grounded.

Trains had a special place in my heart. We lived close to the railroad tracks, and every day, I’d stand near the edge and watch them go by. I especially loved the passenger trains. I'd imagine the lives of the people inside—where they were going, who they were visiting, what stories they carried. Even then, God was nurturing my love for people and my heart to journey—both outward and inward.

Even though I wasn’t a fan of roller coasters or the pony rides, you could always find me in the arcade playing Skee Ball. There was something satisfying about rolling the ball just right and hearing it land in a high-point hole. And of course, whether I won a prize or not, I always left feeling like I had won something far more important—pure joy.

Those picnics were more than just an amusement park fun—they were milestones. Markers of time, childhood joy, and simple pleasures that stayed with me long after the cotton candy melted away. I’d leave the park sun-tired and smiling, already dreaming of next year.

Reflection Prompts:

1. What childhood outing or tradition brought you the most joy?

2. Is there a simple childhood pleasure you still hold dear or find comfort in today?

3. How did those early moments of wonder and excitement shape your sense of curiosity or passion