Like Rolling off a Blog

Monday's child is fair of face Tuesday's child is full of grace Wednesday's child is full of woe Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for a living, And the child that is born on the Sabbath day Is bonny and blithe, and good always. August 29, 1957, was a Thursday. There was no hospital in this tiny hamlet of Polo, Missouri, and so the mother, heavy with child as she was, knew that there was a drive to Cameron in her near future. If history had taught her anything, it was that she had better get to the hospital when she felt her first "pains." So she quickly got the two older children ("older" being a loose term, since the oldest daughter would turn 3 tomorrow, and the son just turned 1 three weeks earlier.) to the church babysitter. She then enlisted her minister husband in driving the 24 miles on a hot August day. The mother's obstetrician had warned her early on not to have...

September 7, 2001, we closed on our newly constructed home. We began the laborious move across town, and by "across town" I mean about 40 miles away. On Monday, September 10, we finally closed the new garage door, full of boxes, and went to sleep, wondering how we would acclimate to our commute to Moody Bible Institute the next day. Mark awoke just before 3 AM, as per usual, readied himself, and got to the radio station by 4:30. His morning program went from 5 AM to 9 AM. My alarm went off at 4:10, so that I could get on the road at around 5 AM and hopefully miss the dreadful commuter traffic on the Stevenson (I-55 heading into Chicago). My desk was in a quad toward the back of the building housing Moody Press (now called Moody Publishers) and Public Safety. I went to work ... which included greeting all my coworkers and combing through emails to find the urgent items of the day. And, as a dedicated wife, my hubby's program was on in the background. As the years g...