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Excerpt: Chapter One—“Vera.” I heard someone call out my name. It was late or maybe it was really early in the wee hours of the morning. I don’t remember anymore, but I knew it was after I’d gone to bed and had fallen into a deep sleep. When I heard my name called, I was so groggy, all I could do was raise up on one elbow in bed and reply back to that voice I heard “Huh?”. . . Right after hearing my name called, I heard words spoken to me again--. . .and to those words I replied--“I don’t believe you.” Then I laid my head back down and fell again into a deep sleep. . . . Later I would learn, when we seek God about anything, . . . we ought to expect God to answer. . . it would be years before I would hear my name called out like that again. . . after that incident, I learned to tell the. .

Chapter Two--—“They keep going to Human Resources on me,” I thought, while sitting at my desk . . . and each time she told on me, my manager would go to HR then come back and tell me what HR said—“You can’t sing at your desk anymore” (my singing was barely above a whisper so she had to keep coming inside my cubicle in order to hear) or “You can’t pray on company premises” (though I prayed behind a closed door which was no different than those meeting to discuss their “different” lifestyels). . .Management held to their decision. . . that is, until 9/11 happened. That horrific day shook up everybody, including those who told me that I couldn’t pray on company premises. On the morning of 9/11, management sent out an email asking for everybody who could pray to. . . .

Chapter Three—“I read somewhere that one of the largest veins of gold ever discovered in America was found approximately three feet from where the previous miners had simply stopped digging.” I thought about this and paralleled the miners’ natural experience to what we sometimes do in our Christian walk—we sometimes stop just short of receiving our blessing because of the difficulty of our trial. . . .

Chapter Four—“There is music in me, Lord! There is a song I have not sung! There is a story I have not told! There is music in me, Lord and I am almost 53.” Someone once told me—don’t die with the music still inside you. For years, I had been wading through life, trying to make it and always in the back of my mind the thought that. . . .

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October 2007