We choose what we will focus on. It’s easy to get distracted, but just as easy to turn our gaze back to the good stuff.
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable-if anything is excellent or praiseworthy-think about such things. Philippians 4:8
I sometimes imagine God and Jesus, sitting side-by-side, watching me go about my day. And I’m sure there are times God looks over at Jesus and asks, “Did you see that? Are you sure about this one?” But I’m also sure that every time God asks, Jesus replies, “Yes, Father, I’m sure. He’s one of mine.” Thank you, Jesus!
In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will, Ephesians 1:11
For over 25 years, Sherry and I have read and discussed a daily encouragement every morning. Currently, we’re re-reading my book “Be Still”, and today’s encouragement started with Jesus, speaking to the disciples in John 16:24, saying, “Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete.” The encouragement ends with me asking this question: “If you could ask Jesus for one thing, what would it be?”
At first, I couldn’t think what my one prayer would be, but then it struck me that what I would ask for is something Jesus asked the Father for…
As they were yesterday, the trees, shrubs and grass alongside the walking path were many shades of green this morning. The sky was the same light blue, and the clouds were still white. But, unlike yesterday there was color on the trail today. Dark Blue.
As I approached the trail, I was met by one of the Longview Police Department’s finest. I’m not shy, and didn’t ask if I could, I simply fell in beside her, asked how she was doing, then we walked and talked for about a mile before turning around and heading back. As we walked, we shared our thoughts about current events, family, and other things. We smiled, waved, and said good mornings to those we met on the trail, and then as we came to the trail head, we shook hands, said our goodbyes and she went to her patrol car. You might ask, “So what’s the big deal?” And, that is exactly my point. She was just people. Just one of us. I feel blessed to live in Longview, Texas, and blessed I was able to spend a few minutes of my day with Amy Works.
There are times I write something and it seems it’s not me doing the writing. Such was the case with this one. I actually set out to write something entirely different, but this is what came out. Sometimes it’s fun, because folks get all big-eyed and wonder what’s going on at Charlie’s house. It’s all good here, folks. It’s all good.
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Copyright © 2020 C Mashburn
I push aside worn shirts looking for my suit. I hate going to these “parties”, but not as much as I hate wearing a suit and tie. I’ll get over it—always do—but the thing is… well, as usual, we’re so broke we can’t pay attention.
The car’s got less than a quarter tank in it, and I got a buck or three to my name until payday. I couldn’t sleep last night, but her! She just gave my shoulder a pat, then slipped right off to dreamland. Then, as I was finally drifting off to sleep, I heard Mom’s voice; “Don’t worry, Charlie. God will provide.” I groaned and answered out loud, “Sure, Mom. Is He gonna leave a twenty under my pillow?”
Then! Tonight, we’re getting ready and when I shove my wallet into the inside pocket of my suit jacket I feel something. “No way,” I whisper. But yes way! I pull the wallet out, reach back in, and stare at a folded twenty-dollar bill.
She’s in front of the mirror, checking her hair—again—and I grin at her.
“What?” she says, returning the grin.
I give her a playful pat—not on the shoulder—and say, “You look gorgeous. But come on, we have to stop for gas.”
Copyright © 2013 C Mashburn
At that moment I was twelve going on twenty. I’d jumped so far forward in life my head was spinning but, in a strange way, it was all starting to make sense. But it was making sense in a way that made no sense at all. As I looked across the table at my mom, her tears dripping onto the Formica-topped kitchen table, I wondered about love, I wondered about God, I wondered what life was all about. And as all these things raced around in my mind, they began to form the new me—the soon-to-be-a-man me. I suddenly realized, and I admit a tinge of fear accompanied the thought, that I had to—somehow—protect my mom, my brothers, and my sister. From my dad.
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The above is an excerpt from a book I began writing last November. I abruptly stopped writing the book, due to a very unexpected circumstance. Most of you are aware of what happened but if not, you can read my post, The World Stopped Turning, for the details. But there’s more to it than that. I simply didn’t, and still don’t, know if I can write the rest of this story.
But, a few days ago, I began reading a book, not by but about, Ernest Hemingway. As I read it, I was inspired, not by his talent, or his person, but by his pain. He was a tormented man, and he was not afraid to display his frailty to the world. He said this about writing:
I’m certainly no Hemingway, but I bleed, and I cannot stop the bleeding. I’ll let you know when the book is finished.
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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" 