Reading. And writing.

To describe me as a “bookworm” would be a laughable understatement.

Growing up, I read as if there were no tomorrow. Redwall, Sherlock Holmes, The Hardy Boys—all these and more I devoured with great gusto. I read enthusiastically. Unashamedly. My thirst for books seemed unquenchable.

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Faith

In 1958, renowned religious expert Huston Smith published a groundbreaking book titled The World’s Religions. 57 years and two million copies later, the book remains an authoritative summary of the world’s major faiths.

This month, for the first time, I read Smith’s book. (Actually, I had to read it for an honors class I’m taking this semester.)

Perusing this particular publication has proven to be profoundly provocative. Allow me to briefly summarize my most memorable musings.

Rather than focusing on one particular religion in the book, I have been thinking about all faiths corporately. More specifically, I’ve grappled with the question, Is there something all these religions—despite their undeniable diversity—have in common?

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The bald cypress adventure

Yesterday at 5:15 p.m., I found myself in the basement of the Texas Tech University library, rummaging through the microfilm archives of the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal. I was determined to locate the May 27, 1972, issue of the ­A-J.

The TTU library basement is a solemn place. Countless encyclopedias, periodicals, government records, and antiquated publications line the shelves of this cavernous chamber. Hushed students pore over textbooks and study materials.

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