Celebrating Black History Month

“You can tell a great deal about a country and a people by what they deem important enough to remember, to create moments for — what they put in their museum and what they celebrate. In some ways, African American History month is a clarion call to remember. Yet it is a call that is often unheeded.” – The National Museum of African American History & Culture.

A way for me to best honor two of my heroes and mentors this February is to testify of how they impacted my life, shaped my life and walked with me through both sunny days and dreary days.

Long ago and far away I had a different life. A different career. A different focus and a different passion.

After going toe-to-toe with death by way of surviving a broken neck when I was 19, I became a little more serious about life and all the goodness that was put upon my plate. It made me want to love my family more. It made me want to take the phrase “take for granted” and remove it from my vocabulary.

It made me question my existence, my direction, my purpose – and most of all – who God was to me.

St. Paul’s Monastery published, “Honoring the Saints is a way to recognize God’s work in a person’s life and celebrate it. So, when we honor a saint, we are simply recognizing the remarkable things God has done in their lives. A Saint is the testament to God’s faithfulness and devotion they reveal to us God’s love and salvation. Through their suffering and what they have endured in their lives they can empathize with people in their struggles.”

The apostle Paul mentions “saints” many times in his writings. At the website Christianity, “According to Paul, a saint is someone who is “sanctified in Christ Jesus.” This describes all who believe in Christ and are made holy by his grace. Also included in the definition are “all that … call upon the name of Jesus Christ.”

When others were just starting their careers after college, I instead found solace and sought direction in a prayer room in Minneapolis, Minnesota. From there I started out in youth ministry and then took my first pastorate in 1984. Along with pastoring, I would speak at minister’s conventions and revivals. It was while doing the work of an evangelist that I met two people who would change my life forever.

Mansfield Cornelius Samples, or “Brother Mansfield” as many called him was in his 70s when I first met him while speaking at a convention in Mt. Zion, Illinois. We had an instant connection and love for the Word of God. He was a teacher, an evangelist and a pastor from Pontiac, Michigan. He lived in the ghetto of Pontiac and his home was like an oasis to neighbors who would come and eat vegetables he grew in his backyard, would receive prayer for the many needs they had and to occasionally use his phone, which was one of the only ones in that area. He took me under his wing and saw something in me even at a young age. He helped tame a somewhat wild and rebellious colt and although he has passed, his wisdom lives with me still. He became a master scheduler for my evangelistic team. He would set up churches for me to preach in and accompanied me, drove me, housed me and befriended me for many years. He and Brother Alonzo Stewart were a power ministry team to the ghettos of Detroit and Pontiac.

I could write about the exploits with those two incredible men of God and simply wouldn’t have enough time. Samples introduced me to one of the mothers on the Church of God in Christ Motherboard in Elyria, Ohio, and she too, left a heavy impression on my life.

Mother Rosella Rutledge who passed in 2008 used to provide room and meals for me whenever I was evangelizing in Ohio. I could always count on having a bowl of Mother’s fresh homemade vegetable soup or baby back ribs after a full night of preaching. She cared for me as if I were her own son, and spiritually speaking, perhaps she was the one who prayed me into the Kingdom. I’ll know it better by and by. She would take in young women and teach them to cook and clean and care for the household – and would turn their hearts toward the Lord. I can remember that I went through a type of “dark of the soul” while in preaching in Detroit and I called Mother for prayer. She prayed and then said, “I know you’re hurting, and I just want you to know, your room is ready when you are and I just put a fresh pot of soup on the boil.”

These are two ordinary people who did extraordinary things for God. And they may not have changed the whole world, but they did change mine. I can still hear Mother praying through the night and singing, “I will meet you in the morning by the bright riverside. When all sorrow has drifted away, I’ll be standin’ at the portals when the gates open wide. At the close of life’s long weary day.”

Oh thank God that He’s not intimidated by pigmentation… or lack thereof.