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        Meet Michelle…..

     I guess I will start my story where so many stories so often begin. My parents divorced when I was two. My mom remarried a man who fought many demons each day. He was sad and broken inside and tried in vain to ease his pain with beer. Sober he was a man who loved the outdoors, and taught me many useful things. Drunk, he was a  violent alcoholic. I spent eight years of my life in a constant state of  anxiety. He would explode in an instant. I felt my job was to keep my mother and siblings safe. I was on watch at all times, ready to run for help at any given moment. I slept with my shoes on most of my childhood.  My stepdad chased us as we ran down dark streets and hid in neighbor’s houses while they were away.  Once we ran  from the bathtub, across a field, and into a neighbor’s house soaking wet and naked. Another time, my mom went into labor with my little sister in the middle of the night on a roadside. I stood there in the dark,  a scared nine year old, trying to come up with a plan to get my mom to a hospital. We often got away from him during those frantic moments, but sometimes we couldn’t run fast enough and my mom would end up a bloody mess. I hated him then, with my child perspective. Now I just feel sad he lost so much to addiction. This sort of childhood changed me. In some ways for good, and in other ways for bad. I am compassionate and care aboout people, especially if they feel alone or unloved. I am a fiercely, loving mother. My kids are precious to me. I am able to adjust to new situations and new people easily. We often moved three or four times a years so I got used to adapting.  I like people and conversing with them and hearing their stories energize me. I laugh a lot and love to have fun. I see humor in the most simple situations. On the flip side…I wear my heart on my sleeve. I am easily wounded and find it hard to let things roll off my back. I struggle with anxiety. Did you really hear that one? Anxiety sticks to me like Velcro. I usually think of the worst case scenrio because I always had to be prepared for whatever came my way. I feel unworthy of people’s time and effort. It is hard for me to ask for help unless I really trust someone. I do not see details. My glasses are always smudged and I lose my things nonstop. My head is often in the clouds.  I don’t even know the make of my own van. But if you want to tell me a story, I will listen. I won’t walk away or be too busy. I want to help people feel a little less…alone. This journey of life is so hard. It’s so much easier when we walk it together. This blog is my way of doing that. Opening up my life feels a bit like living in a fish bowl, but the trade off is worth it if I am able to help others see they are not isolated. We all struggle. And yet we can find ways to be grateful and love others in spite of the pain.

      I have been a wife for twenty one years.  My husband, Scott, works at Logos Bible Software and interacts with ministries all over the country.  We have five kids and one new son in law. I have home schooled for 15 years.  Some days are less then perfect or easy, but I still count it a blessing to be their teacher.  Some days are glorious and some days are gut wrenching.  Scott and I are as opposite as it gets. Seriously. Night and Day. Oil and Water. Black and White. I often think God is either brilliant or has a strange sense of humor. Since I know He is in fact, brilliant, I try to simply trust.  From the outside Scott and I look pretty amazing. And in many ways, we are. He has helped me become independent in ways nobody else could. He has always provided well for his family which was refreshing after all of the instability of my upbringing. He is giving towards others and always trying to make people happy. He loves his children immensely. He loves God and wants to walk close with Him.  But we also really struggle. And we have had a rough couple of years, for sure. But I happen to believe that marriage reflects God’s unending love for us. He never leaves us. He is constant. He sees us as whole and beautiful. I know this is the way I should view my husband. Instead of  keeping track his faults, I need to view  him through the lens of grace. That can be difficult, especially when he is pushing my buttons or not meeting my expectations. Or just pushing my buttons.

That is where the Nitty Gritty comes in.

      I often find myself wishing my life resembled a fairy tale. For instance, WHERE  is the background music and the white horse? Why am I not in a glittery golden gown? Why are we fighting instead of waltzing? I feel defeated quite easily. But recently, a light has clicked on. A spark of an idea has lit up my heart.  Maybe the nit and the grit…. ARE my fairy dust?! Maybe my prince charming is the guy drooling on the pillow next to me. The one who has been hanging on for twenty one years despite the pain and sorrows along the way could very well be my champion.  Maybe being clothed in strength and dignity is way better than some poofy dress….. and maybe the Creator Of The Universe has allowed the dirt, and the manure to cover us, almost smother us,  knowing it will one day bear beautiful fruit.

 I hope to be real with you.

      Far be it from me to hide behind some mask and let you think I have it all together. I would much prefer you see all the gunk, and let God get the glory when the story ends well.