I finished writing a book this week. It took more than two years. It wasn’t a biography or a memoir. I didn’t write about my achievements. It was about how I became me, about what happened in my life that transformed me and shaped me into who I am today.
Childhood Through Adolescence
I spent most of my early life very angry. Not at other people, but at myself. You see, I had a great father. He was a humble man who achieved great things. He quit high school at fourteen and became an itinerant farmhand, moving from job to job. When World War II broke out at 17, he lied about his age to join the Navy. He served in the Philippines on a minesweeper, clearing mines for beachhead invasions. He received two Bronze Stars for valor. His high school burned down during the war, which allowed him to attend college without a high school transcript. In college, he earned a degree in civil engineering.
He went on to become the Superintendent of Highways, the Chairman of our City Council, and the Chairman of the School Board. My dad was funny and never acted as if he were somebody. He was an incredible role model; he really was a good man. Dad was married to my mother for 72 years.
Somewhere along the line, I grew angry with myself. I never did enough, accomplished enough, or knew enough; I was consumed by anxiety about performance. That is the way I lived until my mid-forties. I wasn’t just driven; I was obsessed with my performance and accomplishments, never living up to my expectations. I was successful in business, but I never felt any relief. Despite all my earthly goods, I was not happy. By thirty, I was divorced and had a pacemaker. If someone tried to help me by giving advice, I felt humiliated because I didn’t already know what they were trying to teach me.
All of this was internalized. Outside, I was happy and well-adjusted. I didn’t want others to see my flaws. People saw me as intense and as someone who loved their work. I wish I could say that one day I broke and God fixed me, but that wasn’t what happened.
My Forties
One day in my forties, I picked up a Bible. Not because I felt God cared or even knew I existed, but because I was seeking answers. It helped. I read it cover to cover every year for about four years. I never once sought eternal salvation, only salvation from the life I lived. It calmed my anger and gave me perspective. It didn’t quench the drive within me.
Then, somehow, I came across a book by Lee Strobel titled “A Case for Christ.” Lee meticulously documented that every story in the New Testament is historically accurate. Christ lived, died, and rose again. He performed all the miracles described. I needed to go to Church. Who was this guy? This wasn’t a book of fables or stories; it was real life.
“If Jesus Christ was who He claimed to be, and He did die on a cross at a point of time in history, then, for all history past and all history future, it is relevant because that is the very focal point for forgiveness and redemption.” – Josh McDowell
Isaiah 44:22, “I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. Return to me, for I have redeemed you.”
I went from church to church in search of answers. I was not, and still am not, a fan of religion. Arbitrary rules were piled onto the gospel in an attempt to segment the marketplace (Personal Bias). I ended up at a gospel-teaching church that simply preached what the Bible says. No membership rules, no membership classes, just the gospel.
For several years, I attended this church and learned about salvation. But I was still self-driven. I was perhaps calmer, friendlier, and much less angry, yet I remained focused on myself. I now wanted to be the best Tomme Stevenson God could make.
True Conversion
Then one day, a friend gave me a cassette tape of a one-man play called “The Bema.” The question was: What have you done for Christ since you met Him? My answer: Nothing. This is where my book begins. This is where true transformation began. It was when I stopped looking only at myself and started looking outward.
The book documents how an extremely logical, pragmatic person met Christ. How Christ used my life to mold me into the person I was always meant to be. How the person I am today is a light-year away from who I was. It is the tragedy of wasting almost five decades chasing meaningless things instead of living the life I was meant to live.
1 Corinthians 1:30, “It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption.”
It was a lot of dumpster fires and train wrecks; I’m a hard guy to get through to at times. But every one of them had purpose and meaning. Every one of them changed me for the better. I started looking at God’s plan and moving away from mine: I started judging results not by what I wanted to achieve, but by what God had planned.
I am now more relaxed, still a type “A” personality, but living by God’s standard, not mine. These last twenty-five years have been the best. The book is my best description of how that transformation took place. It is simple lessons from an ordinary life learning to live for Christ.
Galatians 2:20, “I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”
P.S. if you want an electronic copy drop me an email. It was created for my family, but otherwise not completely unreadable.
,Whose side are you on? I forgot the importance of that question.
God Never Intended for us to Stay the Same. Many Christians can point to the moment they accepted Christ. They remember the day, the place, and the circumstances. It marked the beginning of a relationship that changed their eternal future. Yet for many believers, that is where the story seems to stop.
Another year, another Birthday has arrived.
Buried but not forgotten, I was asked today to join a panel to discuss one of the most painful events of my life. The purpose is noble: to help others understand pain, survival, and the hidden struggles people carry. We go through these stages to refine ourselves and become more human in our interactions with others.
Measuring Purpose. A tree does not hear the sound of its own growth. That was a very clear message to me. I am analytical to a fault. Plan your work, work your plan, should be on my family crest. I think what I experience is something many people feel: a deep need to know if we are living our intended purpose.
“We are overworked and underpaid.” Every generation says it. My grandfather said it, my father said it, I’ve said it, and now my daughter says it too.
Few people know the name Hanson Gregory. 
At some point, we all need a miracle. That isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s part of being human. Sometimes life pushes us so hard that we finally see what has always been true: we were never meant to carry everything alone.
In my three-quarters of a century, I have noticed that a life that ends well rarely happens by chance. It results from thousands of small decisions made over many years.