May 9, 2025: The Ghost Preacher

A storm barreled in early this morning.

At 3:30am, wind and rain lashed the windows before killing our power. Lights out. A/C dead. And a trembling Golden Retriever glued to my side.

Two hours later, electricity blinked back on, but the experience resurfaced a college memory.

Each week, our school held a chapel service. During my first year, they asked me to speak. I wanted to do something different: what’s called an “illustrated sermon.”

This required dressing like a biblical character to share a message from a unique point of view. To make it more authentic, I had to memorize the presentation. Tricky, but I embraced the challenge.

On that evening, students and professors packed the auditorium. I felt the pressure, with major nerves about forgetting my lines. As the band played, bad weather brewed outside.

Then, finally, the university president introduced me. One minute before I was supposed to go on, the power went out. Pitch black. Only the eerie glow of the EXIT signs remained.

Dr. Hopkins turned to me and asked, “Can you still speak?”

Normally, I would have needed notes, and light, but not this time. I stepped forward on the stage and delivered every word from memory. Somehow, I remembered it all.

Afterward, people told me the darkness amplified the talk. They said my shadowy costume made me look like some kind of ghostly prophet, an ancient figure appearing out of nowhere.

Later, we found out a nearby tornado had knocked out the power. I say that signs and wonders follow me when I speak.

But, no twister today. Just a sleepy guy and a Retriever who thinks thunder is the apocalypse.