Would You Buy This Book?..

True Stories That Led to Meaningful Perspectives (title TBA)

In the early 2000s, I began attending an unusually inclusive church, rooted in Christianity but rich with the echoes of older traditions like Buddhism, Judaism, and Hinduism.

The depth of our pastor Mary's insight, and her ability to hold my attention for the fastest hour of each week, became a life-altering evolution toward discovering my purpose.

Just before a photo assignment in Nassau, Bahamas, her message felt more like a beacon.

Pause – Appreciate – Pray.
Simple words, but they left me feeling challenged, as usual. My prior understanding of prayer was more of a desperate reaction in a time of need, rather than to approach from a position of gratitude for what I already have.

July 2002. Nassau Marriott. I was awarded this annual contract to document events and teams of headshots. Though images were used for marketing the organization, the attendees were too focused on participation for taking their own photos.

Each year I would book my own flight, hotel and make arrangements with a local lab near the hotel. This particular year had to be extremely well-managed. I had already maxed out my credit cards on gear and to prepay our stay at a resort following the convention.

We shot over 1,500 images during the event, anxious to see whether our efforts would fund a week of island adventure. Speculative work (though risky) gave us a great excuse for international travel.

During one of the plenary sessions, the keynote speaker, Dr. Myles Munroe, lit my imagination on fire...

“Beyond Words” - Grand Bahama Island.

"You want to visit the wealthiest place in the world? Go to the cemetery — where all the unwritten books, unsung songs, and unbuilt architecture lie buried inside those who never cultivated their potential."

"Die empty," he said with conviction. "Live full, die empty!" A phrase I’d never heard until that energized presentation.

I knew I was on the right path. I'd been waking before my alarm each morning, racing toward sunrises that felt like brushstrokes from God's own hand.

Sales day came.

We made just over $6,500 that weekend, of which $3,500 was tied up in unprocessed credit card payments. Processing from The Bahamas in ‘02 would have cost $4.50 for each toll-free connection of my merchant service terminal, if it worked in under one minute.

Add that to my processing fees and I would lose money on a great number of smaller orders. I had no choice but overnight those slips to the US, so that they could be manually processed before I returned.

After paying my photo lab and hotel in Nassau, I had only $100 left in my pocket. Frugality became our mandate for the next six days, tucked inside the Island Seas Resort in Freeport ... with a six-week-old baby nearly out of diapers... and no easy access to stores.

I really needed to create some better-than-pathetic memories. I had to make it back for a free breakfast at 9am. A timeshare sales pitch. I just needed to put on my iron-clad “no … no thanks … no” and get the free snorkeling trip promised for listening to a lengthy sales pitch.

Saturday night, standing on the beach, I quietly asked “the sky” for a solution.

Sunday morning, 7am, I went to the hotel desk to ask if anyone else was traveling with an infant, even toddler. There was not a single diaper at the resort. Every option seemed blocked. The cab ride would’ve cost me too much, knowing that island prices were going to make even the diapers a challenge. I took to the street toward town, hoping to hitch a ride.

My faith was slipping so I turned back for my hotel room with an idea. “Can’t we just wad up napkins? tear up a shirt?” I imagined asking my wife on return.

I walked in at 8am to find they had just woken up. “I just put the last diaper on her.” The reality of my idea sank. Instead I replied “I’ll go find diapers.”

I stood there, thumb out, torn between my optimism and impossible circumstances.

One diaper left.

No credit cards.

No way back to the resort.

My wife's words echoing in my head... "Gretchen only has one more diaper."

I was shocked that none of the cars had stopped. Do I not look trustworthy? Skinny white legs, pale skin. Perhaps I appeared ghostly here in the tropics. Then it came to me, in Marys voice! - “Pause – Appreciate – Pray” Her message from last week, clearer than ever.

Though I have an active imagination, this was more … like God grabbing me by the ears saying “Listen,” and that I did.

I paused to hear complete silence … nothing light clicking of sand crabs scurrying across the road.
I took a deep, diaphragmatic breath.
I then thought of all the things I was grateful for.

“Awakening” Nassau The Bahamas. My hotel deck view of the bridge to Paradise Island.

Quietly I said, “I am alive.”
Louder, I added “I am in the Bahamas!
…I am on a photo assignment, paid to be in a country on my Bucket List.”

I took a deep break, looked upward, smiling, mentally brushing off the shame of my ignorance of where I stood and shouted from my humble state -

"God, I know this is short notice... but I need to get to the store and back with newborn diapers by 9:00 a.m."

Seconds later, a car pulled up, and I mean out of nowhere. My thumb was not even up this time.

The man behind the wheel yelled out, “need a ride.”

I leaned to his window and said “Yes, but before I get in, I need you to hear - you are my guardian angel!”

He laughed and said “Well get in, I’m in a hurry to get to my mom’s.”

He explained he could only take me to the store (not back), but I felt lifted either way.

Not long after, an unscheduled bus driver (breaking every rule) delivered me straight to the taxi territory near our resort.

I could barely make out his words, but his eyes said it all. Pretty much tuck-and-roll, he barely stopped long enough for me to tip him.
I made it back on time, $36 diapers in hand, just in time for our snorkeling trip... I felt a sense of dignity being restored, and certainty that there are forces beyond my prior comprehension.

But the story didn’t end there.

“Early Bird” Grand Bahama Island

The next morning, before dawn, I set out toward a secret sunrise spot recommended by our snorkeling guide.

Fifteen minutes walking in the dark, unfamiliar country didn’t frighten me... I felt completely grounded.

At the south-most tip of the beach, just as I mounted my camera, headlights swept across me.

A pause.
A silhouette.
Friend or foe?

The engine cut off.
The headlights died.

Out stepped the same man... my "guardian angel" from the day before.

He let out a deep, baritone laugh and said,

"I should have known I'd find you here."

We stood together, breathing in the glory of the sunrise.
Later, in his car, I told him everything — about the convention, the message from Dr. Munroe, my prayer on the road...

When I mentioned Dr. Munroe's name, he lit up.

"I grew up with Myles. I listen to his radio show every week."

“Ambience” East coast of Grand Bahama Island.

Of course.

Another connection woven so seamlessly, it could never have been scripted.

He shared his side of the story too (how he wasn’t even supposed to be on that road, racing to see his ailing mother)... another unseen hand guiding the tapestry.

Returning home, the first Sunday service felt electric.

Mary spoke about her mother's mantra, celebrating a life well-lived...
Skydiving in her 70s, riding Harleys in her 80s... always echoing, “Live full, die empty.”

It felt like lightning inside my chest.

Later that day, Mary and I met to discuss a coffee table book I had envisioned — pairing my fine art photography with her insights. (A spiritual oracle of sorts, like meaningful fortune cookies made of image and word.)

Life threw its hurdles, tabling that project for many years...
But our connection led to a decade of creative work together, photographing the blossoming of her Life Mastery movement.

And now... twenty years later... the seed stirs again.

“Jonathan” - A frigatebird at sunrise, reminding me of my favorite Author, Richard Bach.

This story is just one of many that will live inside a book I've decided to finish — a collection of the unseen alignments, the silver linings that only revealed themselves through gratitude and faith.

If you made it this far, thank you for walking this story with me.

I’m gathering true stories like this — moments where grace, grit, and gratitude changed everything — and pairing them with the images born from those same experiences.

Would you help me shape what this book could become? Share your thoughts below.

I'd love to hear.