Lone Star Golden Triangle Edition #110

By Caleb Ávila Founder and Director, Lone Star Newspaper and El Perico Newspaper October 2026

Hello, my dear friends. Wherever you may find yourselves today, I send you my warmest greetings and sincere wishes that God continues to bless you and your families. Once again, I come before you through this weekly editorial to share another story. However, this time the story is different. It is not about someone I have met, a community celebration, or an individual whose accomplishments deserve recognition. This time, the story is about me, about the man I have become, the battles I have fought, and the wounds I have carried throughout my journey.

At 62 years of age, I find myself reflecting on a lifetime filled with dreams, sacrifices, disappointments, accomplishments, and lessons that have shaped my character. I have been a teacher, a businessman, a founder, a newspaper publisher, a father, and a man who has spent much of his life struggling to overcome circumstances that sometimes seemed impossible to defeat. But if there is one description that best represents the person I have become, it is that of a wounded soldier, a man who has faced countless battles and somehow found the strength to continue standing. These are not necessarily battles fought with weapons, but the invisible struggles that leave deep scars within the human heart.

There was a time when I believed that life would unfold according to the dreams I had created for myself. I wanted to build a beautiful family, become an honorable husband, and be the kind of father whose children would always feel proud to call him their own. Unfortunately, life does not always respect the plans we make. One of the most painful chapters of my journey came through a divorce that I have always considered unjust, an experience that shattered many of the hopes I carried for my family and my future as a father. Even today, I sometimes wonder whether I became the father my children wanted or deserved, although I know that my desire to love, protect, and guide them was always sincere.

Much of my desire to become an honorable man came from the teachings of my mother, a beautiful and extraordinary woman whose strength, wisdom, and character helped build the foundation of the person I am today. She taught me that dignity is not determined by the opinions of others, but by the values we carry within ourselves. I still remember her words: “It doesn’t matter what anyone tells me. I know who you are because I raised you.” Those words have accompanied me throughout my life, especially during moments when I felt misunderstood, criticized, or unfairly judged by people who knew very little about the battles I was fighting.

We are five siblings, including three brothers, and each of us has followed a different road through life. I am proud of my family, although I sometimes believe that I may have been the one who encountered some of the most difficult circumstances. There were times when I was considered the black sheep of the family, perhaps the one who behaved differently, made more mistakes, or seemed to possess the least potential. I have never claimed to be a perfect man. I have made mistakes, experienced failures, trusted the wrong people, and followed paths that sometimes led to disappointment. Nevertheless, every difficult experience became part of my education and helped shape the person I eventually became.

Throughout those years, I often felt like a soldier standing before a firing squad, waiting for another round of emotional bullets to strike. Just when I believed one battle had ended, another would begin. Sometimes the people responsible for those wounds were strangers, but on other occasions they were individuals I had trusted, respected, or welcomed into my life. The wounds were created by betrayal, rejection, disappointment, criticism, broken promises, and circumstances that left me questioning the meaning of everything I had worked so hard to accomplish. A soldier who spends too many years fighting can eventually forget why he began the struggle, yet he continues moving because surrender has never been part of his nature.

God has been good to me, even during the moments when I struggled to understand His plans. There were times when I felt alone, defeated, or abandoned by circumstances beyond my control. Yet, somehow, I continued finding the strength to stand again. I believe His mercy accompanied me through situations that might otherwise have destroyed my determination.

As I have grown older, I have noticed that the wounds I carry are beginning to change. They no longer come primarily from people who disappoint me or situations that threaten my dreams. Today, some of the deepest concerns come from something far more difficult to confront: the reality that time continues moving forward and that my body is no longer as strong as it once was. The battles of yesterday were often emotional, but the challenges of today increasingly remind me of my own physical limitations. I can tell you sincerely, my friends, that life sometimes frightens me now, especially when I realize how much strength this wounded soldier has already spent along the way.

At 62 years old, I have begun noticing changes that remind me of the many years I have spent fighting one battle after another. There are moments when my body seems to be telling me that this wounded soldier cannot continue carrying the same burdens without acknowledging the physical cost. Sometimes it feels as though my body is speaking directly to me, saying, “Hey, relax. Take it easy. You have been fighting for a long time.” Yet, I come from the strong foundation my mother gave me. I was raised to believe that a person must continue moving forward regardless of the obstacles that appear along the road, even when the heart is hurting and the body is tired.

I have often said that if the end of a journey must eventually arrive, I would rather face it while walking forward than surrendering to fear. However, I am also beginning to understand that there is wisdom in recognizing when the body needs rest and when the heart deserves an opportunity to recover. This wounded soldier can no longer promise that he will always possess the strength he once had. I cannot promise that tomorrow will be easier or that my health will remain unchanged, but I can say that my faith remains alive and that I continue appreciating the blessings God places before me. Even the strongest soldier must eventually learn that resting is not the same as surrendering.

Growing older has changed the way I look at the world. Things that once seemed extremely important no longer occupy the same place in my heart. Arguments, disagreements, material possessions, and the opinions of others have gradually lost much of their power over me. What matters more today is peace, dignity, gratitude, and the opportunity to live without carrying unnecessary bitterness. When I look back, I remember the people who extended a helping hand, those who believed in my dreams, and even those whose actions caused me pain. Each became part of the story that shaped my life, teaching me lessons about loyalty, forgiveness, perseverance, and the true meaning of human relationships.

If there ever comes a day when you no longer see my name appearing in these editorials, I want you to understand that I have been deeply grateful for the opportunities God has given me. I have had the privilege of meeting extraordinary individuals, telling meaningful stories, building publications, and becoming part of communities that have given purpose to many years of my life.

To my children, my family, my friends, and everyone who has followed my editorials, I want to say that I may not have given you everything you expected from me. Perhaps I fell short in ways that I still carry within my heart. But whatever I was able to give came from the strength, understanding, and opportunities I possessed at that moment. My love, my intentions, and my desire to do what was right were sincere. Today, I ask for nothing more than the opportunity to appreciate the blessings that remain, enjoy the simple moments, and recognize the people who genuinely care. If there is one thing I hope you remember, it is that this wounded soldier never stopped trying to become a better man.

And so, my dear friends, this wounded soldier continues his journey, carrying his scars, his memories, his faith, and his gratitude. I thank God for every battle I survived, every lesson I learned, every person who crossed my path, and every opportunity He placed before me. This is my story, a story worth telling, not because it has been perfect, but because it has been real. I am Caleb Ávila, Founder and Director of Lone Star Newspaper and El Perico Newspaper. Until our next editorial, this wounded soldier signs off with the words that have accompanied him throughout his journey: Ten-four. May God bless each and every one of you. Amen.