Welcome to Monday's with Michelle! This week I want to share some yummy (and healthy) salsa recipes with you in an effort to make your meals even more delicious without adding a ton of fat or calories.

Grilled chicken breast with my tomato salsa over the top... served with corn on the cob and  a mixed green salad. (That's a pretty colorful plate! Remember tip#2)

Black bean mango salsa

If you took a look at this week's Worldless Wednesday post, Tomatoes, To-mah-toes, you probably thought to yourself, "ehh...okay."

Well here's the backstory:

This past Saturday, I walked out onto my terrace and practically fell off of it when I saw tiny green tomatoes had sprouted on the tomato plants I planted with my daughter at the beginning of the Spring. I have been quietly complaining to myself for months about these damn tomatoes. The seedlings took root soon enough and out the original five I thought I planted, fourteen decided to make their presence known. I had to re-pot them twice. And everyday my daughter and I happily watered the plants. And then nothing.

Nothing.

And a little more nothing.

Months ago my Detroit, photog, green thumb, homie, Tafari, happily gloated about his tomatoes on Facebook. When I saw his status I thought, What is wrong with my tomatoes? Then my daughter went away to see her grandparents for the summer and still no tomatoes. I thought to myself, How in the world did I buy defective tomato seeds? They smelled like tomatoes. But no tomatoes.

Until now.

Despite my doubts, despite my complaints, I watered those plants everyday...EVERYDAY. Without thought, without fail. There was never a day that I thought, These things aren't growing, I ain't watering sugar/honey/ice/tea anymore! I just kept on watering the plants figuring I was going to have six-foot tall naked tomato stalks on my terrace.

I kept nourishing the plants, despite what I couldn't see, despite what my mind didn't understand. I kept sowing love and nourishment into the plants. Taking them out of the sun on asphalt buckling heat days and moving them inside when violent rain and wind whipped upside my building. And now the fruit is here. They didn't come when I wanted them to arrive. They showed up when the time was right for them. When the stalks were tall enough and strong enough to support the weight of the fruit they had to bear. A mystery of life was revealed right before my eyes this past Saturday.

And then things got downright spooky.

I hopped on a plane that afternoon and flew down to Atlanta to visit my wife who has accepted a position down there (more on this later). We went to church (Imapct Church) the next morning and the pastor preached a sermon on reaping what you sow, but moreso, sowing into something to receive from it. And what did he use to illustrate his point? A story about his tomato plants in his yard that didn't, at first glance, seem to be growing. But in their proper time and season, they arrived and were more tasty than anything he ever bought at the store. My mouth fell open. And it didn't end there. Without knowing I knew I knew the pastor so I decided to approach the man. As it turns out the pastor, who was celebrating his 70th birthday that day, has preached at my home church in Chicago and was mentored by one of the longtime leaders of that same church way back at the beginning of my time on Earth. Sunday was a day of revelation and confirmation for me. My cup was overflowing with it.

For those of you who don't believe in God or anything esle, this ain't a sermon. For those of you who do believe in God, I am a witness --- there are no such things as coincidences.

How's that for backstory?



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