Called to Seek and Share the Truth

After working across Tennessee and living in East Tennessee, West Tennessee, the Nashville metro area and other states, it was time to put down roots. Tennessee has many wonderful communities, but Cookeville had long been a familiar stopping place for family gatherings, funerals and work. Choosing it as our home more than seven years ago felt natural.

It is funny how a familiar road, conversation, song, meal or even a smell can carry us back to another time. Some memories are precious and others are not so pleasant, but they help explain who we are, where we came from and perhaps where God is leading us.

I was raised in a Baptist family and attended a Methodist college. My family volunteered their time and talents in church, not for recognition, but because they believed in serving something greater than themselves.

I have family and friends from many Christian denominations and have worked alongside people who were Muslim, agnostic, atheist or followed other faith traditions. I believe communication is important. Listening to people whose beliefs differ from mine does not require surrendering my convictions.

I believe in Jesus Christ. I am not afraid to say I am a Christian, and my faith remains the foundation of how I strive to live, lead and serve.

Years ago, while living and working in Springfield, Illinois, a woman invited me and one of our assistant editors to attend her Lutheran church, where we would be recognized for our work in journalism.

I had never attended a Lutheran church. I was intrigued, but I also wondered why people I had never met wanted to recognize us.

My publication covered the state Capitol and surrounding communities. Our office stood beside the site of Abraham Lincoln’s law office, near his restored home. The church was also part of Springfield’s historic district. It was a beautiful old church, one of the oldest in Springfield and in Illinois.

When we arrived, we were welcomed with open arms. The people were kind and made us feel at home.

Then the pastor described the disciples as some of the first journalists.

I had never considered it that way.

The disciples witnessed extraordinary events. They listened, asked questions, recorded what they saw and heard, and carried the truth to others. They did not have printing presses, cameras, websites or social media, but they understood the responsibility of bearing witness.

Luke explained that he had “carefully investigated everything from the beginning” so his reader could know the certainty of what he had been taught. John wrote, “That which we have seen and heard declare we unto you.”

They investigated, witnessed, recorded and shared.  That sounds a great deal like responsible journalism.

The pastor’s message came at a time when I was questioning whether my work made a difference in the kingdom of Christ. I had spent years reporting stories, publishing newspapers and helping communities understand what was happening around them. But did that work have an eternal purpose?

It was as though God placed the answer directly in front of me through the kindness and wisdom of people I had never met.

What I did not know was that the assistant editor accompanying me had been raised Catholic, had struggled deeply with her faith and had come to consider herself an atheist. At one point during the service, I looked over and saw tears streaming down her face.

Someone had connected what she loved doing with a greater calling, and it resonated with her. She was not simply hearing a message about journalism. She was being reminded of faith and called back toward God.

That moment has stayed with me.

Many of the newspapers I have published have received industry honors. At the pinnacle of those awards is General Excellence, which virtually every newspaper I have published has received during my more than 30 years in this industry. I am grateful for each honor.

But the most meaningful recognition has never been a plaque or trophy.

It comes from readers. It comes when someone says a story touched a heart, helped a family, preserved a memory, exposed a wrong or inspired someone to act. It comes when we learn that something we published truly made a difference in another person’s life.

Journalism carries tremendous responsibility because words have consequences. Proverbs 18:21 tells us, “Death and life are in the power of the tongue.” Our words can injure or heal. They can mislead or illuminate. A careless sentence can damage someone’s reputation, while carefully documented reporting can give a voice to someone who might otherwise go unheard.

Proverbs 18:17 offers another clear instruction: “The one who states his case first seems right, until the other comes and examines him.”

The first account may sound convincing. The loudest voice may attract the most attention. But a journalist’s responsibility is to ask questions, listen, investigate, examine the evidence and seek the truth.

Truth is not always comfortable, but it must remain the standard.

That responsibility guides my work today across Highlands Insider, Reaves & Williams Publishing Group, Hometown Digital Marketing Agency, Cookeville Now, Shine Messengers and Shine Cast Studio. Whether we are reporting news, helping a business share its story or offering a testimony of faith, we have a responsibility to communicate truthfully.

Micah 6:8 calls us to do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with God.

Justice requires courage. Mercy reminds us that every person is created in God’s image. Humility requires us to acknowledge when we are wrong, correct our mistakes and remain willing to learn.

Those are worthy standards for journalism, leadership and life.

Perhaps journalism is not merely what I do. Perhaps it is part of what God called me to do.

What about you? What is God calling you to do?

Your calling may already be found in the work before you, the gifts He has given you or the quiet pull on your heart you can no longer ignore. Sometimes God answers our questions in unexpected places and through people we have never met, just as He answered mine that Sunday morning in a Lutheran church in Springfield.