It was simple reality - most competitive tennis players in my day were privileged, spoiled, entitled and white. Also, many of them were beautiful, fit, tan and of good stock - great big hair and white teeth and long legs. Then there were the rest of us.

No one can appropriate God, goodness, the Bible or Jesus. It just seems that way.

It was not facing what life dealt that made you crazy, but rather trying to set life straight where it was unstraightenable.

I feel incredibly successful. I make a living as a writer and am able to help support a big family, my church, my bleeding-heart causes.

And as it turns out, if one person is praying for you, buckle up. Things can happen.

You can safely assume that you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.

I do not at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.