One of the most defining moments of my life happened when I was about six years old.
It was the year 2000, and our church was hosting a three-day Children’s Day program. The event ran from Friday to Sunday, and somehow I had been selected to preach on the Friday evening service.
On the day of the event, my father sat me down to prepare. He told me I would be teaching from the Gospel of John. He explained the passage, walked me through the main points, and, knowing how quickly I usually picked things up, wasn’t particularly worried about whether I would remember everything.
Then something unexpected happened.
Instead of continuing the Bible lesson, he picked up a magazine.
It was the March 29, 1999 issue of TIME magazine, titled Scientists and Thinkers (I actually just got the title, I’d explain later). Inside were stories about some of the greatest minds and innovators of the twentieth century. He showed me Albert Einstein and explained the idea of relativity. He told me about Wilbur and Orville Wright and how they built the first successful airplane. He introduced me to William Shockley and the invention of the transistor, the tiny component that would eventually make modern computers, smartphones, and the digital world possible.
I was captivated.
What was supposed to be a Bible study became an afternoon spent exploring science, invention, and human curiosity. I fell in love with those stories. Even at that age, something about the people in those pages fascinated me. They weren’t famous because they entertained people. They were famous because they built things, discovered things, and changed the world.
A few hours later, reality arrived.
That evening, I stood before the church congregation to deliver my message. I announced my topic, opened my Bible, and began reading from John chapter 3. I made it through the first few verses.
Then someone in the audience shouted, “Hallelujah!” after my call for “Praise the Lord.”
I still remember his name…Avoke, he was our pastor’s brother.
The moment I heard him, I froze. My mind went completely blank. I couldn’t continue.
After a few awkward moments, the guest pastor walked onto the stage, gently took over the service, and encouraged the congregation to applaud me as I stepped down.
I was embarrassed. Deeply embarrassed.
My mother was not pleased. She blamed my father for spending the afternoon teaching me about Einstein, airplanes, and transistors instead of making sure I was fully prepared for the sermon I was supposed to preach. As far as she was concerned, I had gone on stage unprepared because my father had filled my head with science instead of Scripture.
At the time, it felt like a failure. But looking back, I see it differently.
I may not remember the sermon I was supposed to preach. I don’t even remember the title of the message. But more than two decades later, I still remember Albert Einstein. I still remember the Wright brothers. I still remember William Shockley. I still remember sitting beside my father as he turned those pages and opened a window into a world of ideas.
That magazine became one of the earliest sparks that shaped my curiosity about technology, engineering, innovation, and the people who build the future.
About 26 years later, actually this evening, today the 4th day of June 2026, I found myself trying to remember that magazine. With my dad no longer here with us, all I could recall were a few fragments: “Albert Einstein,” “William Shockley,” “Wilbur and Orville Wright,” and that it was a TIME magazine published sometime before 2003.
Using ChatGPT, I started searching those keywords. It suggested a few possible issues. I followed the clues, dug through old archives, and eventually found it: the March 29, 1999 issue of TIME magazine.
The moment I saw it, I knew. That was the magazine. The photos on those pages took me back to being a child. Everything flashed right in front of my eyes. lol.
The funny thing is that the sermon was forgotten. The magazine wasn’t. And in many ways, that afternoon shaped the rest of my life.
