When I look at who I was in the past, I barely recognize myself.
It doesn’t matter how far back I go. The only constant has been change. There are times when I feel happy about that, because I think I’m a better person than I was as a college student (such as in this photo) or a young newspaper editor or as a publisher or as a political consultant.
When I look back at myself in the days when I filled those various roles, I know I’ve grown tremendously. I’ve learned more about myself. I’ve learned to love other people better. I’ve gained enough wisdom to see through things which I blindly believed because my culture had told me to believe them.
I feel good about coming as far as I’ve come. And yet there are times — such as right now — when I wonder if I’ll ever become the person I’m supposed to be.
We’re neither friends nor enemies, just strangers who share the past
Society needs storytellers to help make sense of a changing world
My bad teen poetry suggests I’ve always hungered for missing love
I lost my way that night — and it seems I never found my way back
Material things can be replaced, but loved ones worth far more
I don’t claim to know the solution, but the modern church has failed
If you’re out of place somewhere, nobody’s going to be very happy
Redemption of ’Bama’s Jalen Hurts illustrates what sports teach us
We’re drawn to games that give ego satisfaction, praise of others