Marbles In My Pocket ~ The Official Blog of Charles L. Mashburn ~ Poems, Short Stories, and random thoughts from the author of "Be Still… and know that I am God"

In the spring of 1995, I was just winding down from a period in my life when I had severely tested the boundaries between right and wrong. I look back on those days and wonder how I survived, much less became the somewhat decent man I am. I credit God for both, but he has a co-star in the latter; He sent a beautiful lady—an angel, I believe—to show me what love is all about.

I wrote the following, rather clumsy, amateurish poem a few days before the first anniversary of the day I met Sherry, and today, almost 24 years after that first meeting, the words I wrote are truer than ever. Except that is, I can truly say I no longer worry about her, because I know God will always bring her home safely to me; and I no longer have to hope it’s her, because now, I know it’s her.

Sherry will be home soon, and at the end of what’s been more than three of the most trying weeks of our lives, I know when she walks through that door I’ll say, “Thank you, God, for her.”  

God, I Hope That’s Her

 I remember when we met

It seems like only yesterday

You walked into my life

I knew I wanted you to stay

And it still makes me smile

Every time I picture you

As you walked up to me

In that pretty dress of blue

I spent my whole life searching

And wondering where you were

And the first time that I saw you

I whispered, “God, I hope that’s her”

Our love grew so fast

We couldn’t stand to be apart

We were meant to be together

We knew it from the start

I wanted to be with you

Every minute of every day

Every time you left me

I wanted you to stay

I thought about you all the time

And I wondered where you were

Every time the phone would ring

I whispered, “God, I hope that’s her”

I promise that I’ll love you

For the rest of my life

I want you with me always

I’m so happy you’re my wife

Now, when you’re not at home

And it starts getting late

I sometimes start to worry

I walk the floor and wait

I tell myself, when you get home

I’ll ask you where you were

And every time I hear a car

I whisper, “God, I hope that’s her”

Copyright © 1996 C. Mashburn