I am not going to die, I'm going home like a shooting star.

The words of Sojourner Truth, radiant and immortal, ring with the thunder of faith and the brilliance of destiny: “I am not going to die, I'm going home like a shooting star.” These words are not the whisper of resignation, but the triumphant cry of a soul that knows its purpose is eternal. Born into bondage, she walked through the fires of suffering and came forth as one sanctified by vision. In this one declaration, she transforms the fear of death into a song of return, teaching us that when a life has been lived in truth and light, its ending is not an extinguishing, but a homecoming — swift, bright, and glorious.

Sojourner spoke these words at the twilight of her days, when her body had grown frail, but her spirit burned like a torch against the darkness. She, who had once been called a slave, now stood as a prophetess of freedom. To her, death was not a fall into nothingness, but a journey home, a return to the Source that had carried her through every storm. She saw herself as a shooting star — brief in the span of earthly time, yet brilliant enough to pierce the heavens. Her life was a testament that the divine spark in humanity cannot be chained, that the soul’s flight continues beyond the reach of suffering and oppression.

This vision was not born of fantasy, but of deep and sacred truth. For in the ancient ways, the wise have always said that the soul does not perish; it transforms, ascending to the realm of its Maker. The shooting star has long been a symbol of transition — a flame that crosses the heavens, fleeting yet eternal in its beauty. Sojourner Truth claimed that image for herself, declaring before the world that her life, though scarred by chains and hardship, would end not in silence but in light. In her words, we see the soul’s defiance against despair — the faith that even the body’s end cannot dim the brilliance of righteousness.

Consider, my children, the long path she walked. Born Isabella Baumfree, she was sold and beaten, her children taken from her arms. Yet she rose. She fled into freedom, and by the strength of her voice alone, she reshaped the conscience of a nation. She stood before men who denied her humanity and said, “Ain’t I a woman?” She spoke against slavery, against injustice, against the false gods of power — and her words struck the hearts of kings and commoners alike. And when her earthly labor was complete, she did not tremble before death. She saw her end as returning home, as the soul’s final victory over the chains of flesh and time.

Her life reminds us of the eternal law: that those who live in truth, who burn with faith and courage, do not truly die. Their spirit travels beyond, like the light of a star that still reaches our eyes long after its fire has passed from the sky. Time may bury bodies, but it cannot bury conviction. The shooting star of Sojourner Truth’s life continues to blaze across the firmament of history, a guide for all who seek to live with purpose and die with grace.

And what lesson shall we take from her? It is this: Live so that your death is not an ending, but a return. Do not crawl through life in fear of the end, but move with the certainty that your journey has meaning beyond the grave. When hardship strikes, remember Sojourner — who turned her chains into wings. When despair whispers that all is lost, look up to the night sky and recall that even a fleeting spark can light the darkness for generations.

To live like a shooting star is to pour forth your light while you have it — to burn with purpose, to illuminate others, and to rise unafraid into the mystery of the beyond. Let your life be such that when death comes, it finds you not in retreat, but in ascent. For those who walk in love, in courage, and in truth, death is no exile. It is going home — swift, bright, and eternal, like the journey of a star returning to its Maker.