Sometimes my mom, after serving Sunday mornings wiping noses in the nursery like the good pastor’s wife she was (is), would pop in a tape (remember those?) of the sermon into the living room stereo system. And if my dad happened to wander into the room, he’d run away going blah blah blah so he wouldn’t have to hear himself. I so get that. It’s incredibly awkward and uncomfortable to hear your own voice, a sure indication that it’s best... Read more