I'm Here

Goodness gracious...it's dusty around here. I guess that's what happens when you just leave a place unattended for almost three years. It has been more than three years, friends. And since it's been that long, I guess a good place to start is with introductions. For old friends, enjoy getting reacquainted.

My name is Michelle...I am THE YankeeBelle.  Like there are others...but the definite article lends a sense of panache, no?  I grew up in Michigan but at the tender age of 21, I got myself Down South and here I have stayed. Oldest child of a single mother doing the dang thing before it was "cool" or as culturally normal as it is these days. Any of you familiar with birth order psychology, I do possess many of the "first child" characteristics: reliable, conscientious, cautious, and while we're in words that start with "c"...controlling. (Insert MONSTER eye roll here.) My childhood was complicated: dysfunction, poverty, a short period of abuse. But by the grace of God, I survived.  The adversities and challenges of childhood left imprints on me, but they don't define me. I like to think that they give me a different perspective on life and make my heart tender in certain places that might be different from yours.

It wasn't all tragedy and tears. There were good times. Mama would make homemade fries and brown gravy. We danced to her ABBA and Motown albums; we went thrift store shopping and had lunch at the KMart cafeteria. My friend would schlep a trash bag FULL of her mama's old prom dresses to Granny's house and we would put on front porch fashion shows. Our cousin Shelby...the big sister I never had and the one that my younger sister would have preferred...would pick us up in her midnight blue Firebird and take us for meals at Chi-Chi's. She would order us virgin daiquiris and we thought we were hot stuff! We had white shoes for Easter Sunday. Granny would roll our hair (that's what we call putting hair on curlers for the youngsters out there) on Saturday nights. Sponge rollers for the one who got there first. Picky black, wiry rollers for the second head. Why we never got a complete set of sponge rollers for two heads is beyond me. On the occasional Sunday when Granny was on duty at "The Groovy Juvy" (she worked for the State of Michigan at a juvenile detention center), she would put a roast in the oven for us to have after morning worship.  Papa would turn that sucker down even lower, making it impossible for it to be ready at lunchtime, and then go up the street to get the fixings for chili. It wasn't a proper bowl of Sunday chili without a loaf of garlic bread from the grocery store's bakery. Nothing but fat and salt and white-bread carbs, but we felt like queens of the world with that meal on the table.

Mr. Snark (that's my husband) and I met in 1987. His youth group from Knoxville TN came to my Michigan hometown for a summer mission project. He cracked a joke, told me I had pretty eyes, and just stole my heart. We were pen pals...actual pen to paper letters...spent a lot of money on long distance calls. He graduated in 1988 and served the next two years in the US Navy. I graduated in 1989 and went on to Eastern Michigan University. We got engaged in December 1989 and finally married in July 1992. So, that makes thirty years this summer. THIRTY YEARS! We have relocated five times in those thirty years. Finished three college degrees between us. Birthed and raised two fine boys, buried six grandparents, his mama and daddy. Our various homeplaces have afforded us the blessings of good friends that have become family in the absence of blood kin. Many of these good friends coming from the churches that provided us instruction and encouragement. We have had the great fortune of having pastors who led and loved us well.

Let's see....I am an extrovert. SO extroverted that the other portions of my personality inventory were scared to even stand up and be counted! Seriously, when I saw my outgoing tendencies quantified, it was scary and shocking.  What comes next? Exhibitionism?? I love to cook, plan parties, decorate for parties. I LOVE dishes. That's a topic for a different post. That might make an interesting blog...or series of blogs. Each set has a story. And I love to tell stories (How about that segue??). Despite the most recent abandonment of The Chronicles, I do enjoy writing. Folks have said that I need to write a book. A dear friend is waiting for me to crank out the next great Southern novel. It's a blessing to have friends with that kind of faith in you. Never met a crayon, colored pencil, oil pastel, marker, tube of paint I didn't like. Wandering through the fabric store and taking in the various bolts of material is a joy. The paper smell of an actual library is comforting. The feel of a book in my hand is a comfort. Put on some music and I am likely to dance and/or sing...depending on what you choose. Just know that the 80's station will make it happen. I'm the "mama" personality...Enneagram #2...combination of golden retriever/otter. If you are hurt, I will be there with a pot of soup, a box of kleenex, chocolate, and whatever else I think might make you feel better. Need to cry and don't want to do it alone? I'm your girl! Been a card carrying member of "The Sob Sisters" most of my life. Tender hearted, compassionate, empathetic, always willing to give a second chance...sometimes to my own detriment. 

Did you know that you could accept the gift of salvation at a skating rink?  You sure can. I did. I was in the third grade. My late uncle was the pastor leading devotion on that particular third Monday of the month...also known as "Christian Skate Night." I'm here to tell you, if no one ever has, God is real. And he wants to be part of your life. He's not expecting you to clean yourself up or get yourself together before you come to him because he knows you can't. Apart from him, you can't do anything to save yourself. I couldn't. No one can. Salvation is a free gift and if it depended on anything of human design, it would fail. I've seen the goodness of God. His faithfulness, his love, his mercy, his grace, his healing, his discipline, his companionship, his joy...I've seen every one of these things. My life is what it is and I am who I am because of him. Plain and simple. Recent days have caused me to dig deeper into who he REALLY is because of the unflattering caricatures that I've seen on display. Pushing past the plastic, the silicone, the veneer, the artifice, the smoke and mirrors to the Jesus I know and love has been an ordeal but if I come out of the other side of this "momentary, light affliction" with a strengthened and fortified faith, so be it. Just look the other way while I cry every bit of makeup off my face.

I'm here. Somedays, that's plenty. Other days, it feels like so very little. I'm working through some things. Maybe we'll talk about them...with a lot of editing and rewrites. Maybe we won't. Maybe we'll just talk about my dishes. But I'm here...thanks for being here, too.