Ready, Set, Geaux!

Stories have always fascinated me — whether they were fictional or not. I used to have a small library in my mother’s room when I was little. All of my books were housed on a set of shelves that my mother assembled one night so that everything would be in one place. Every cent I earned for good report cards (excluding conduct), birthdays, or tooth fairy visits went toward more books. I could hardly wait until my teacher gave us the Troll and Scholastic order forms. I’d check off the titles I wanted before I made it home, and my conversation with my mom would end in compromise. She’d tell me how much money was in my budget, and I’d ask to borrow from anticipated funds for future report cards. Even as a kid, I was a fierce negotiator.  She would often times cave and let me get what I wanted, but as I reflect on that time period, I realize that she read all of those books too, so they were as much for her as they were for me.

Those times were special, but they were tough times too. We lived in a small house — not much bigger than those tiny houses you see on TV. It had three small bedrooms, two living areas (one of which had a sleeper sofa), a small kitchen, and one bathroom. It was in disrepair — probably should’ve been condemned, but it was home, and we all have fond memories of living in the old house on Jeff Davis. I even dream about the old shotgun house sometimes — mulberry trees at the front and rear of the house and pecan trees on the right. A gentle wind would blow and would knock some pecans to the ground while others hit the tin roof as if it were a snare drum tapping out an alert to anyone who wanted to grab a bag full to enjoy as they walked home.

I remember wanting to leave that small house and visit places I’ve only seen in books. My cousins had done that by joining the Army. They left Jeff Davis Street years apart in order to see the world, and they did. They both had options. Monique was a gifted athlete, musician, and scholar. Grady was a gifted artist, tailor, and scholar. Instead of using their obvious gifts, I believe they discovered others along their journey like leadership, discernment, and tenacity.

As a kid growing up in a house with two standouts, I never felt inferior because I wasn’t in competition with them. Besides, they always took time to praise me, so I knew that whatever I was doing had passed muster. I did, however, watch them closely. I studied them. I prayed for them. I embraced them when they came back to the old house on Jeff Davis Street. I also sought their advice and approval as I made plans to leave the old house. No one in my family ever thought I would leave my momma. I couldn’t cook, had never cleaned, and couldn’t do laundry. I was relegated to a life on Jeff Davis Street (according to my know-it-all cousins), but God and I had other plans, and we sketched out phase one of the plan as I prepared to play school on the front porch the summer before my seventh birthday. Here we are 40 years later, and he has just revealed phase two. I can’t imagine my life without his constant care and attention — his grace and mercy toward me. Where on Earth would I be? I can only imagine where on Earth he will take me next.

14 thoughts on “Ready, Set, Geaux!

  1. I felt something big was in the wind out your way. I’ve probably been too busy, but I felt like I missed you for a few days, my friend. Excellent post, Michelle! ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

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    1. Hey Sis…though school’s out for summer. My summer is filled with leadership conferences, meetings, and planning for next school year. My heart wants to write, but my brain is often tired by the time I get home. I’m asking God to carve out some time for me to work on my main manuscript. I know he will provide. 🙂 Praying all is well with you, dear friend.

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  2. I have to ask, did you live in New Orleans? I lived there in the 1970s and remember a Jefferson Davis Highway or street. I loved your tale. I too loved books growing up and still enjoy many stories even now. They can be entertaining, have a morale, and a chuckle hidden in them.

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  3. […] One of my life goals is to be like Jesus. Yes, I know I’m fallible and fall very short of that Jesus Standard, but it’s still my life goal. That means that each day as I wake up, I must repent for all of my foolish acts from the day before. Like I said, I’m fallible. I work toward being good each day, but sometimes a juicy story distracts me or a selfish thought enters my mind when it’s time to tithe each week. Nevertheless, my goal is to be like Him. If you just judged me for my sins, you have some work to do too, so stop snickering and get to work. It’s ok though. We need each other in order to grow. Perhaps the fact that I just called you out may be the impetus for you to set a life goal that will be pleasing to our Creator. Don’t think about it for too long; you might talk yourself out of it. Ready, Set, Geaux! […]

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