As God would have it, I was born the first child of Carolyn and Jim Clevenger. My parents were small business owners in the rural community of Roland, Arkansas, nestled at the base of Pinnacle Mountain, though they moved our family to Little Rock while I was still an infant.

My parents were hardworking people, and we lived with modest means. My father worked long hours, and though he was often away, he set the tone of our home. Faith was not part of that atmosphere. There was no Bible in our living room and certainly no mention of Jesus. Instead of Scripture, a Time Life book illustrating the evolution of man sat on the coffee table. Church was never discussed. Meals were not prayed over. Bedtime prayers were unheard of.

As I reflect on those early years, gratitude overwhelms me. My salvation is one of God’s unmistakable mercies. Jesus met me exactly where I was, and praise God, He did not leave me there.

The summer of 1970 marked a turning point. It was an era of bell bottom jeans and rock and roll, and through a fourth grade friendship, God began His work in my heart. My friend’s home was very different from mine. Her father was a deacon in a Southern Baptist church, and through that relationship, I began attending Sunday School. That summer, I heard the gospel clearly for the first time, and God saved me when I was near ten years old.

I often think of Lydia, Paul’s first European convert, and the words of Acts 16:14, “The Lord opened her heart to pay attention.” Whether curiosity or a God given hunger for truth, I continued walking to church on Sunday mornings, where a faithful teacher named Joy Young poured Scripture into my young life. About six months later, my mom and brothers joined me from time to time, and I was baptized. John 6:44 reminds us, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws them,” and for that drawing grace, I am eternally grateful. I am a child of the King.

My teenage years unfolded in Little Rock, and it was there, during my freshman year at Little Rock Central High School, that I met the love of my life. At the time, I had no way of knowing how deeply that relationship would shape my future, yet even then God was faithfully at work, writing a story far greater than I could see or imagine.

My love for words began long before my high school creative writing class. Even when family members refused to play word games with me, I sensed that writing would one day matter deeply. Over the years, I enjoyed freelance writing for magazines and news publications, but it was not until my mid sixties that the weight and calling of putting words into print became clear.

From early on, I valued serving Christ and His Church. My path of service gradually shifted from teaching children to teaching, leading, and discipling women. Faithful service in the local church, along with a leadership role in Bible Study Fellowship, deepened my understanding of how God equips His people. Yet with growth came a growing awareness that faithfulness required more intentional preparation. I developed a strong desire to handle God’s Word rightly, and with that conviction, my story took an unexpected turn.

At fifty six, I found myself seated in an advanced theology classroom in Fort Worth, Texas, surrounded by much younger men and women preparing for counseling ministry. Pen in hand, I listened intently, aware that despite decades of Bible study and church involvement, significant theological gaps were being revealed. Those moments were clarifying. I knew I needed to continue learning. By God’s grace, that path led me to Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary.

Though I had known Christ since childhood, it was through theological study that I came to more fully understand what Christianity truly is. Doctrine began shaping not just my thinking, but every area of life. It was a demanding season, but it was also one of profound joy and clarity. As those theological gaps were filled, my purpose sharpened. God’s work in me and through me became unmistakably clear.

Today, my family and I reside in the Arkansas River Valley, a place we are grateful to call home. From here, I study the Scriptures, disciple women, and write with a heart anchored in the faithfulness of God and the ordinary rhythms of life. This season continues to remind me that the Lord often accomplishes His most meaningful work through steady obedience, rooted relationships, and lives faithfully lived before Him.

My life has not followed a straight path. It has curved and stretched in unexpected ways. Yet God’s sustaining grace, the consistency of faith, and the love of His people have anchored me throughout. Since the day of my salvation, I have lived with the assurance of my heavenly inheritance. By way of the cross, I have eternal life. I am a sinner, forgiven by grace alone, justified through the atoning blood of Jesus Christ and received by faith. As Romans 3:23–24 declares, I stand redeemed because Christ died and rose again on the third day.

This is the story that shapes my writing, my teaching, and my calling.