Posts Tagged Buckeye AZ

Two Wolves

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I tend to expound on the people and things that shaped me into who I am, and the Cherokee legend of the two wolves hits the nail on the head. For too much of my life, I fed the evil within me and allowed it to guide my steps. Fortunately, the good was the more powerful force, and as time went on, I began to feed it, and watched in amazement as it easily overpowered the evil I’d given control to. Looking back, I realize the good wolf within me was made strong by the good people God placed in my path. People like Judge Billy Meck who taught my Sunday school class when I was around the age of ten. It wasn’t just the things he taught me in that class, but even more so, it was the kind of man he was. Truth is, I don’t even know what kind of man Judge Meck was, but I know what kind of man I saw when I was a boy, and that’s how I will always remember him. 

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I Want To Be Like Billy

This is a repeat, but it bears repeating. God puts people in our paths to show us the way. I wish I could’ve realized it sooner; maybe I would have paid better attention. Fortunately, the lessons he showed me with the people he sent my way took root. It just took me awhile to realize it.

Shew me thy ways, O LORD; teach me thy paths. Psalms 25:4

God sends special people into our lives for us to learn from. Today, I’d like to tell you about three very special ones He sent my way.

Judge Billy Meck was my Sunday school teacher when I was ten. I didn’t spend a lot of time with him, but he left a lasting impression on me. I remember him as one of the kindest, perpetually happy men I’ve ever encountered. I want to be kind and always happy like Billy.

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In case you can’t tell, Billy Ray is the one on the right. The other two are pretty special too. (I’m the beanpole on the left. Kenny is the hot dog below me, and sister, Patsy is the beautiful little girl in the middle.

Another Billy who left a lasting impression on me was my little brother, Billy Ray Mashburn, who died at fourteen in a car accident two weeks before I graduated high school. Billy Ray could look at you with those big blue eyes—fighting back a smile, so as not to crack his forever chapped lips—and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. Billy Ray loved everybody and everybody loved Billy Ray. I want to love and be loved like Billy.

My oldest son, Billy (he goes by Bill these days, being grown up and all) is the Billy I admire these days. I don’t know anyone who can match his work ethic or his love for his family. He’s a good man, a good husband, and the most devoted father I have ever seen. I am so very proud of my son. I want to be a good man like Billy.

I’m working on it.

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Do-lang, Do-lang, Do-lang

The eighth grade dance! It was without a doubt an event every young boy awaited with a gut-twisting eager dread.

I grew up in the little town of Buckeye, Arizona, and by the time my pals and I reached the eighth grade we knew we liked girls, but weren’t sure why, or what we should do about it. Read the rest of this entry »

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