In 2023, I visited Israel. Nothing I have done in sixty years compares to it.
Walking in the steps of Jesus in the Holy Land is not a metaphor. It is a physical experience that changes you. You stand where He stood. You walk where He walked. The stones are real. The water is real. The weight of two thousand years of history is real. And somewhere in all of that, the faith you have carried your whole life — in your mind, in your heart — becomes something you can touch.
I was baptized in the Jordan River. The same river where Jesus was baptized by John. The same water.
My faith journey began in Sundance, Wyoming, at the Church of the Good Shepherd. My parents were married on July 4, 1954, and built our family on a foundation of faith from the very beginning. In 1975, I enrolled at Oral Roberts University in Tulsa as a freshman. During those early days I spent many hours at the Prayer Tower on campus, where I first encountered Jesus in a personal way and began my relationship with Him as a disciple and servant. Both of my sons would later graduate from ORU as well — one of the great joys of my life.
Not long after joining the First Presbyterian Church of Bentonville, Helen Walton asked me to become an elder. I told her I was too young at 23. She said, "You'll do just fine." She was right about a great many things.
In 2024, I had the privilege of visiting Rwanda — a country that has experienced remarkable transformation through faith after one of history's darkest tragedies. What I witnessed there is difficult to describe: grace taking root in devastated soil, a people choosing restoration over bitterness. It is one of the most powerful things I have ever seen.
I came home more sure than I have ever been. Not because I have answered every question. Because I have met the One the questions point to.