“I stand at the crossroads of two different lives. In one direction is my original chosen path of journalism. It extends toward newsrooms and pressrooms, and I can hear the sounds of clattering keys and the smell of fresh newsprint. In the other direction is a church with the sounds of worship music and the sight of teens and children playing. The story of my life is found in both directions – the roar of the press and of excited children and the quiet of times spent in prayer and in concentration at a computer. They’re all woven together by a thread of faith and a lifelong love of words.
I’m still waiting to see how it ends up.”
The strange thing is that when I first set out in life, I thought I knew exactly which direction I would take.
Journalism wasn’t just a career choice for me; it felt like a calling. I grew up fascinated by newspapers and the people who made them. The idea that words could capture a moment in time, tell someone’s story, or even hold powerful people accountable was intoxicating. Newsrooms had a rhythm and energy that felt alive. Phones rang. Reporters argued about headlines. Editors barked instructions across the room. Somewhere in the background, the presses waited to roar to life and send those stories out into the world.
For a long time, that world felt like home.
But life has a way of opening doors you never expected to walk through.
Along the way, faith became more than something that existed on Sunday mornings. It began shaping the way I saw people, purpose, and the work that really matters. Opportunities to serve in church and to spend time with young people started appearing, and I discovered something surprising: the same love of words that drew me to journalism could also be used to teach, to encourage, and sometimes to help a student see themselves or their future a little more clearly.
Eventually classrooms replaced newsrooms, at least as my daily workplace. Instead of chasing stories, I was helping young writers find their voices. Instead of writing headlines, I was explaining grammar, storytelling, and the power of a well-chosen word. And instead of tomorrow’s newspaper deadline, the work became about something longer lasting—helping shape the people who would write the stories of their own lives.
Looking back now, it doesn’t really feel like I left one road for another.
It feels more like both roads have been running side by side all along.
Journalism gave me a love for truth and storytelling. Faith gave me perspective. Teaching gave me a chance to pass those things on. And writing—whether in a newsroom, a classroom, or late at night at my own keyboard—has always been the thread connecting them all.
So I suppose that’s why the crossroads image feels right.
My life didn’t turn one way or the other.
Somehow, by the grace of God and a few unexpected turns along the road, I ended up walking both.
Copyright © 2026 Doug DeBolt.
