www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts

Friday, October 27, 2017

Did the Twins Miss Each Other?


Remember to get your copy soon. The deadline for the contest is in December. www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com Margaret lifted anxious eyes to the sky. Lord, what am I supposed to do, she cried inwardly. The sky looked innocent enough, a few cottony clouds floating by; they weren’t the cause of her turmoil. She wrung her hands in anguish then realized they were still stuck into her slightly shabby gardening gloves. With a sigh, Margaret dropped to her knees in the handkerchief-sized garden behind the tall Victorian style apartment and dug out a thistle. Her mind wasn’t on what she was doing. Soon the children would be home from school and she must be composed before then. But how could she be? She had been having a peaceful morning with her just-turned-six year old but all changed. Alice had been chattering away about what they would do when David and Sally came home from school ‘for good’ and the holidays began in a few days. Margaret knew most of it was fanciful thinking but she liked listening to the lively little girl’s chatter, who wasn’t really her daughter but fostered. The happy mood continued over the noon hour. Alice didn’t protest being told to rest for a little while since they had walked earlier to the shops in downtown Halifax. It was after her nap the trouble started. “Mommy,” she called, “I had a dream.” A dream? Just a dream? Not one that was funny or interesting or scary? Margaret went into the storage area, turned bedroom and yanked the shade to make it rise. The sunlight streamed across the rumpled bunk, single at the top and twinned at the bottom. Alice’s eyes drifted shut then she opened them again. “I dreamed I had a twin,” She stifled a yawn then sat up. Margaret’s heart clenched as she sat down beside the precious girl, reaching for her hand. “Care to tell me about it?”Alice leaned her head against her shoulder. “She was small, just like me, and had red hair just like me, but it wasn’t in curls like mine. She had two long braids. They f’opped over her shoulders an’ she got no bangs.” “You mean she didn’t get hurt?” Alice had run into a doorknob the day before. Alice shook her head and touched her forehead. “No bangs like me,” she explained. Margaret felt the colour drain from her face. “Anything else?” “I was looking in a store window and she looked back at me.” Margaret wished she could say it was just her reflection. “She looked like me. She looked sad, we both did.” “ Why do you think you were sad?” Alice shrugged. “ I guess ‘cuz we didn’t know we were so close. Even our dresses were the same. They were like my first day of school dress.” She bit her lip. “I think you called it a plaid. The green one.” Margaret swallowed but made herself respond. “’That’s interesting. Did you like dream?” Alice shrugged her shoulders. “Kinda. But kinda not.” “Why not?” Alice gazed into her mother’s eyes. “When I waked up I felt like crying. ” She flung her arms around her mother. “Mummy, I wish I had a twin!” Margaret stroked her daughters’ hair. “I think a lot of little girls dream of having a twin. I wanted a sister, badly, when I was a little tyke.” “But dream Mummy,” she looked up at her Mother again, “Like in sleep-time dream?” “That is strange, “ Margaret murmured, “Very strange.” As she twisted one of Alice’s shiny locks around her finger, a faraway look came into in her eyes, her cheeks were pale. Alice lay her head back on the pillow murmuring “I’m still sleepy, Mommy,” so Margaret tucked a light throw over her and said she would be in the garden. That was fifteen minutes ago and Margaret still wasn’t in control of her emotions. Deep down she knew why. With every passing month, no, week even, she felt condemned for not encouraging Marita to break the wall of silence between herself and Randall. Many times she had taken out paper and pen to write 'you must tell your husband Emily is a twin, you must get your daughter back,' but it was too hard, she couldn’t bear to let Alice go, and she knew the rest of the family would be devastated also. Davy had been tossing the ball up in the air on the way home from school and catching it with his gloved hand until he caught sight of Margaret with a watering can. She was sprinkling their elderly landlady’s petunia-lined walk. “Hi,
Mom.” “Hi Davy, how’s my boy?” “Fine.” I guess.” Mom’s been crying. I wonder what happened. “Can I have a peanut butter sandwich?” “Of course, son. I meant to make some peanut butter cookies since I know you love them so much but it didn’t get done.” “That's okay,” Davy mumbled so low Margaret didn't hear him. He kicked at a pebble on the cement sidewalk then glanced once more at his mother before turning the corner of the house and pounding up the stairs. “Davy, you scared me!” Alice’s giggle floated through the open kitchen window as Margaret put the trowel and watering can away. She was about to join her children in their hot, stuffy apartment but old Mrs Bentley poked her head out the back door and invited her in for a cup of tea, she couldn’t say no.

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Free Christmas Surprise!!

Guess what I found on the internet today? No it wasn't in an archeological dig way out in the Middle East somewhere, but it was still fascinating. It was a book. It looked old fashioned in a way and the pictures were kind of blurry, but the cover sure looked antique! I thought the pages would have been more yellow with a parchment-y look, but I guess they are better at preserving things that we figured, eh? Anyway, it was a book called Mary's Diary. WOW! I mean double-wow! Who could have had a more intimate relationship with Jesus, the Son of God, than His own birth mother! Who could have cared more to get the facts right and to portray His life in a as loving a way as possible? And guess what?! It even covers those hidden years of when He was a little boy in Egypt. (He must have been such a cute, sweet little fella.)  And oh yes, it sure sounds authentic! : )
I'm quit bugging you so you can find out for yourself. https://www.createspace.com/4837922
http://www.amazon.com/dp/1511783966


BONUS! FROM THE 23rd TIL JUST AFTER CHRISTMAS THE KINDLE VERSION IS FREE! HERE'S YOUR CHANCE TO GET A FREE CHRISTMAS GIFT FROM THE AUTHOR, WITH LOVE...

Saturday, December 5, 2015

Me? A Little Bird in a Cage?

 Hey you guys, remember me writing about tumbling into a valley? That’s not soo long ago, surely you remember it!  Well anyway, I mentioned being imprisoned in my own body, quite a phrase, eh? 

That trip really did a number on me physically. Not only was I crippled up but it was kind of hard, okay I’ll admit, sometimes mighty hard to find food that my body wanted to tolerate, which left me feeling…UHHH when I got home. (Ya, before to.)

Then I got inspired to read in this real old book called Springs in the Valley. It’s so ancient I don’t even have the original cover on it, but the author was Mrs. Somebody-Or-Other-Cowman.

Ever hear of a lady called Madam Guyon? She must have been a real sweetheart cuz when she was imprisoned in a castle at Vincennes she said: “It seems as though I were a little bird whom the Lord has placed in a cage, and that I have nothing to do but sing.” I like that thought. I think many of you can verify that suffering often does bring us closer to God and we can hardly stop praising Him for all the love He is bestowing on us.

Oh, I know, I know you have things to do and places to go, but please, let me throw in another thought or two. The famous John Bunyan also found prison a blessing in disguise. It was there that Scriptures, that meant nothing to him before, shone with new light and ‘Jesus was never more real and apparent’ than there.  I envy him.

Monday, April 13, 2015

Radio Interview

Something very unique is happening today. Did you know there are conservative Mennonites “out there” that don’t even watch TV or own a radio? Well, as many of you very well know I am one of them but today I am going to launch out of my comfort zone. My book Mary’s Diary of Jesus’ Life is very precious to me. I think it is a beautiful, heart-warming story that thousands of people would love…if they had the opportunity to read it. When the man who is doing the audio and eBook copies of Mary’s Diary over at Hollywood Book Trailers offered to do an interview on the radio with me, I actually agreed!
This is going to be unusual. I thought I had the confidence to go through with it, but oh, boy, I am getting nervous in an excited sort of way. If you are a fellow believer please pray for me that I’ll be able to ‘wing it’ for God’s honor and glory.

10:00 Mountain Standard Time: the clocks a tickin’!

https://soundcloud.com/hollywoodbooktrailers/marys-diary-part-one-audio-book
P.S. Good thing I didn't send this flying. I just got an email that the interview has been rescheduled for this week Wednesday. 10:00 eastern standard time.

Monday, February 23, 2015

How Worthwhile Are We?


I heard a statement that had a profound impact on me. A man from Burkina Faso made it.  

    “If a senior dies it is like a whole library has been destroyed.”

 Many of us are seniors, but are we wise? Are we compassionate and understanding?  How are we filling in the dash between our cradles and the grave? Perhaps you know I am referring to how a gravestone has the date of someone’s birth, a dash, and then the date they passed from this world.

The Bible teaches us that the older women should teach the younger, (Titus 2.4) surely we must have accumulated something worthwhile in our life experiences. Do we have the humility and kindness to help those behind us who are floundering? We all have different ways we can do it.

Are we writing books’ of value with our lives? ‘Only one life will soon be past. Only what’s done for Christ will last.’


Let us pray for each other. 


Saturday, November 15, 2014

Mary's Diary, the Life of Jesus through His Mother's Eyes

Some of you have been so good about buying Mary's Diary, the Life of Jesus through His Mother's Eyes, even with it's blah, blah, blah cover. Did I tell you already that I'm getting it redone, and reedited, and I think those of you that haven't bought a copy will like it better than ever. Meanwhile, I will dole out a pre-Christmas preview! So here' the beginning!

By the way, I'll need to think of another title. What do you think of these ideas.

Mary'am Muses
   about her son Jesus

Mary's Journal

Mary's Memories
  of Jesus

More suggests and votes would be most welcome!




April 2nd
10th Nissan
             

                          
                              


will always be grateful to my dignified, elderly Uncle Zachariah
for teaching me to read and write that long ago summer when I was
ten. There are some thoughts that are too personal; too profound to
give voice to, but they must be shared, and writing is the best way.


How can I get close to HaShemYet that is what I am striving for.
HaShem means The Name, and is the most respectful title I know to
call The Holy One. We hesitate to speak His Name out loud, but I pray
He will pardon me if I write it from time to time. There is something
About  Adonai , hallowed be His Name, that is dreadful, but I long to have a
more meaningful relationship with Him.

This week I have been thinking much about the sacred prophecies
concerning the Mashiach. (Messiah,) What kind of woman would Yahweh choose
as the mother for His Son? It would be such a delightful honor, and
a privilege! I wish it could be me.

Did you hear my tiny sigh? I suppose hundreds, nay, thousands of talitha(girls), more honorable than I have longed to cherish the Holy Child as their own, but they were not chosen, so why would I be?
We are of the lowliest of the lowly. The Judeans, particularly the religious leaders, look down their long noses at us Galileans. Do they not think we are so dim-witted
about understanding the finer points of the law?

The Anointed One’s mother would be someone without the many
faults that I have! I imagine she will be someone like the virtuous
woman our noble King Solomon described many years ago. She would
diligently reach out to the poor, and needy, and in her tongue would
be the law of kindness. I have a lot to learn in that area!

I am guessing that the Mother of the Mashiach, (what elegant
sounding words!) would need to be someone of royal birth so she would
know how to groom her Son to become the future King.

 But I am of the right lineage! David is my ancestor. We have the precious documents right here in our chest to prove it. They have been passed down from generation to generation, and are among our most valuable possessions.

Yea, I must admit though, that thousands of others are of the same lineage.

Just this one last time I will confess it hurts deeply that I cannot
mother HaShem’s Son. He must be born of a virgin, and I am soon to
be married.

You will not ere in your thinking, no? I am joyfully planning to
wed my beloved Yosef, but when I do, this other dream will have to die
forever. It is most difficult to lie down. It has been a secret desire for
so long, but I will; I will lift a brave face, and cheerfully walk hand in
hand with my betrothed for all my days, and if perchance some other
aant’at ,(woman,) gets this blessing during my lifetime I will try to be
happy for her.

Perhaps it will be my own daughter!





Thursday, August 29, 2013

I Don’t Understand God


You know, I really don’t understand God all that well. He reacts in a sometimes unpredictable way, and almost, if not always in a more loving way than I had expected.