Weathering Life’s Storms by Mike Roberts


I was born in Detroit, MI on April 4, 1956 and when I was seven, we moved to Southfield, a suburb. I went off to college at Central Michigan University and earned a degree in Broadcast Journalism. It was there I met a young lady named Anne who would become my wife.  Later, I went back for a second degree in Atmospheric Sciences (meteorology) at Creighton University.

What a journey it’s been doing television weather! I started my career in Cadillac MI, and then went Traverse City.  After three years we moved to Huntington, WV, and then Omaha, St. Louis, Kansas City and back to St. Louis. Whatever else a career in television meteorology might be it is not, for most of us, a wealthy journey and can often be cruel. My wife, Anne, deserves so much credit. She built me up, carried me through, urged me on and cheered for me always but never without critical analysis. After 34 years, I guess Jesus just thought she’d given enough and took her home. Through her faith, she did long to see Him.

Just over a year ago, with a retirement I did not see coming, I was walked out of the television studio where I’d done weather as a meteorologist for 37 years. Now, I’m on a new journey as a Director of Business Development and Marketing at Visiting Nurse Association of Greater St Louis. It might seem strange to go from a television studio to health care but I had been on that path for a while.

In my private life,  I have seen many late life storms, as a hospice volunteer and then caring for my late wife. Not long after Anne’s passing, my youngest son, Dan, was nearly killed in an accident at his job as a carpenter. As I sat in the emergency room alternately praying and checking my emails I found one from the St. Vincent DePaul Society asking me to write something for their winter fundraiser. My first instinct was to delete it because, well, I had my hands full with the current crisis. Then I thought, why not write it, and now?  Many prayers were answered. My son miraculously (though painfully) survived and the person I sent the email to is now my wife. 

Karen is a veteran of many life storms herself. She lost a son not long after we married. Her older brother was taken before we met. She is like Anne in her generosity and kindness but more reserved. However quiet she might be, Karen is a gentle warrior for those she loves.  Between the two of us we have eight children two grandchildren and dogs, Darby and Scruffles.

 

Who am I that I should be so richly blessed?