How God used a stiff prison sentence and a church invitation to rescue me from a downward spiral of guns, drugs, and despair. Growing up as a Black American male in a rough Seattle neighborhood almost doomed my future. In many ways I was marked for failure. Even a violent early death. My mother, a nurse, worked long hours providing for my sister Angela and me after our father left us. Although he lived 10 blocks away, he was never active in our lives, financially or otherwise. My mother loved us and disciplined us, but I needed a strong and…