www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

Showing posts with label prayers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prayers. Show all posts

Monday, March 20, 2017

Don't Come into my heart, Lord Jesus


Faced a difficult situation last night. You know what that's like.Someone we love dearly had gotten offended at us and I felt helpless to heal the breach. What, oh what could be done to remedy the situation? With tears and a breaking heart I told my husband it felt like love just wasn't enough when you're raising children. Then they asked us over. It was a tentative step forward on their part, and oh I hated the thought of messing things up by saying or doing the wrong thing. That's when it came to me that I didn't want Jesus in my heart because it was so scrawny and mean and narrow but I wanted to be in His heart so that His love could flow uninhibited right through me.
Please pray for me, for us. 
www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com


Tuesday, August 30, 2016

The Afghan and the Mouse



I watched it being made: it was a creation of incredible beauty. There were squares for each stage of development in our lives and nothing was more precious, more valuable than that afghan:
Our children’s lives.
I loved watching it develop slowly before my wondering eyes. Woven together with prayers and lots of love it would be cherished forever.
But it was marred.
The Master Weaver had me helping. His part was perfect, flawless and beautiful, and when He guided my hands my awkwardness was minimized, His talent shone through.
Although lacking, I still love it.
It is mine, ours; something to be cherished forever. We tried our best but over time damage was revealed: a mouse had chewed holes into the fabric.
I’ll not give up.
It’s still beautiful to me, so precious. I lift it up to show the Master Weaver: Mend it please, could you, please. It took years to create; will it take years to repair?
I’ll wait. And pray.
Lord, use my hands, more patient now from years of grief and experience to help mend. Make us into a soft, comfortable afghan that will bring joy to all.

Marilyn Friesen

Sunday, August 14, 2016

I Searched for You




We searched all over for you. Remember me? I met you sitting on the curb by Goodwill and got down beside you. We chatted for quite a while and it was easy to tell that life had thrown you some nasty curve balls in the last few months.

My heart went out to you, but we felt so helpless. I even asked you, ‘what can I do, how can we help?’ It wasn’t money that you wanted and you said so, but we did go to a nearby restaurant together to get a bite to eat.

The timing may have seemed off to some since we were super busy at home with a wedding coming up as well as BnB guests, but bringing you home with us was hardly the solution anyway because there are not many job opportunities in a rural area such as where we live.
You said you wanted to come to church with us and would find a way, but we knew that would be easier said than done since so much had been stolen from you already, including your cell phone.

So we came into town tonight, a week later,  using the excuse of picking up groceries. You weren’t where we expected to find you nor at any of the other places where the homeless might be inclined to hang out and we drove around for a long time looking.
We found another girl who was obviously troubled; her eyes red,  face sad and we told each other maybe that was who God wanted us to come into town to comfort, but I wasn’t totally convinced.

Where are you? Are you reaching up and holding to the Good Shepherd’s hand? Jesus is the Good Shepherd. Let Him hold your hand so it won’t slip. Remember He is always looking out for you even when you can’t feel Him. Learn to trust Him and surrender your all to Him and He will lead you down the tunnel where there is a light at the end.





You, and you and you…are in my thoughts and prayers.

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Lullabies and Memories Even Though the Twins are Still Separated

Are you interested in seeing an excerpt from my upcoming book? My computer has a serious attitude so I can't seem to edit this. I hope it will publish!!

“Away in a manger no crib for a bed,” Margaret sang not caring that it was still a long time until Christmas. Juniour and Sally waited patiently on the couch until it was their turn to be rocked. Finally with a little smile on her face, Alice closed her innocent young eyes and was fast asleep.
            Margaret didn’t put her down right away, though. She stroked the soft copper-colored tendrils off Alice’s forehead and wondered if her twin still looked so totally identical to her. She carried her carefully to the lower bunk that David had made: twin sized on the bottom and single on the top, so that each of the children could sleep in the former storage room. Her heart was filled with prayerful longings towards the Other Twin.



She opened her arms to Sally who jumped eagerly on to her lap.



“Jesus loves me this I know,” she crooned next smiling at Davey Juniour. Soon, all too soon he wouldn’t want to be rocked anymore, thinking he was a big boy now. Already he was worried that the Other Boys in grade two would Find Out but she assured him she and Daddy would never tell and since he wouldn’t either it was their special secret. After the customary three or four songs for Sally, she tucked a light cover over the  girls and planted a kiss on each smooth, untroubled forehead
Now it was Davey’s turn. My, he’s growing to look more and more like his Daddy. She hugged him close and started singing “Dare to Be a Daniel,” which he loved. Sally resembled her birth mother, Janet, who Margaret had never met. None of the three were bone of her bone and flesh of her flesh, but she loved them dearly as if they were
Her voice faltered while singing “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine,” but Junior didn’t notice
 If little Ricky had lived he would be just a few months older than Emily and Alice, and he, too, would have had an opportunity to snuggle in her arms, something she achingly missed. She tried not to let her voice quaver as she thought about the baby she had lost on the ship, and that there had been no little brother or sister forthcoming since.
Soon the little darlings were fast asleep and as Margaret finished tidying up she wondered how much longer it would be before David came in. He often spent his evenings at the shop repairing a customer’s vehicle.





Sunday rolled around once again.



“Davey come stand by me as I brush the dust off your little suit.  My word, what were you doing, Little Man, that you got so dusty?”



“The ball rolled under your bed, Mummy.”



“And you when to fetch it, I see.   I had neglected to sweep under there for too long! Well, you sit on the couch and look at a book. Come Alice, I will comb your hair.”  



Oh my, how the time has flown. When I first came to Halifax Sally was even younger than Alice is now. When she was done she plopped the little girl on her David’s lap. He smiled at the little girl and tweaked her chin. When she snuggled up against his shoulder, Margaret’s brow puckered. How would we ever be able to give up Alice if Marita decides to want her back?  As she combed Sally’s shiny, blond hair into two almost waist-length braids and fastened them with ribbons, she thought of even deeper worries. Lord, what is going on in Marita’s life?  Are they destitute? Ill-treated? Has Randall gotten his drinking under control?



“Margaret we will have to hurry if we want to get to church on time.”



Margaret’s eyes swept over the kitchen and she sighed. The dishes were stacked neatly beside the sink but they weren’t washed. Oh well, at least the children got the table cleared and wiped.



She often dreaded Sunday’s because unexpectedly a wave of nostalgic memories would sweep over her and she had been known to weep right in the pew of that formal church.

 Daddy, her dear Daddy used to be a warm-hearted preacher far away in England, but he, and Mumsey, also, had died in such a tragic way.



Alice, who was sitting on her lap as they drove, was prattling away, and didn’t notice when she sniffed and discretely wiped away a tear. David did though, and his hand reached out to cover hers.  She smiled sadly at him.



The two in the back were making such a ruckus; they certainly wouldn’t be noticing the little exchange going on in front of them.



Later the sermon droned on and on. What wouldn’t Margaret give to be listening to her father preach just once more? How she missed his endearing way of weaving in stories in so that even the younger ones would be interested. How she missed seeing her brother Richard sitting close to the front on the far side with a batch of boys his age. She remembered more than once his mischievousness would threaten to boil over and father would quell it with a stern look. Oh, dear where is my hankie?



After church there was the usual gossip and idle chit-chat.



The neighbour girl, Janiece, strolled by arm in arm with a handsome man from the States. Her mint green drooping and flower adored hat was the envy of the younger set…or was it the man she was with?



She joined a cluster of women visiting in front of the building.



“Well Janiece sure got herself a fine catch. I wonder when the wedding will be.”



“”Oh, hadn’t you heard? It’s going to be a June wedding, next June, of course, and they will be honeymooning in France. Imagine! In our day France was a dreadful place to be.”



The first speaker grimaced, “I’m glad that war is over. My cousin was the only one from our family, who served, and he’s such a grouchy, old soul since returning. He used to be so much fun!”



Margaret turned to gather up the children, feeling empty and desolate. Sometimes she admitted being less satisfied after going to church than she had before the service.



 







Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Healing Prayer

Can eight weeks of suffering disappear in one night? Nay, make that eight years, or even two-thirds of a lifetime.

Physically I was never like 'other girls' I was weaker, frailer, and had less stamina. This showed up even as a child, but it wasn't until I was in my twenties, I believe, before the dizzy spells really kicked in. I'm telling you our family doctor tried, he really tried to find the solution for many years but nothing helped.

But the years sped on with migraines, sinus headaches, and the nausea and vertigo that increased intolerably under the slightest stress.

Was I miserable? Yes: and no. God was there. And anywhere with God is a haven of comfort.

My husband had seen me suffering all these years and it became so severe that social settings were becoming intolerable. He got the idea to ask one of the pastor's in our local congregation if they could have a healing prayer for me.  They were open to the idea.

Saturday evening, April 23 has become a holy day in my heart and memories. We are a large congregation so there are two ministers (pastors) and two deacons. We met for a time of Bible reading, fellowship and praying. It was a time of sweet communion as we shared our hearts, confessing our faults one to another. Although the discomfort in my head was so bad at this time, I was willing to go through with it, to see what God could or would do.

We knelt beside our chairs with my dear friend; one of the pastor's wife's, supporting me while her husband anointed my head with oil, and prayed.

Immediately I felt a burning, but not uncomfortable feeling in the center of my forehead which lasted for about a half an hour. Was the dizziness gone? Yes. Was I able to do things what 'normal' people do after that? Absolutely.

I felt like I was treading on Holy Ground, and today which is Tuesday, the wonder, the hallowed feeling is still with me. He Touched Me. The loving Heavenly Father deemed me worthy of a gentle touch of healing and I feel like tiptoeing in His Presence, He was/ is so close.


Monday, April 11, 2016

The Unknown Voice...in the Night

Mom, Hey, Mom


I woke up abruptly at 4:28 this morning. Someone said “Mom, hey, Mom “clear enough to get me out of bed and look out our bedroom door. We have a daughter who has moved back home so I thought it might be her, but no, no one was there. I even checked where she sleeps, but all was quiet and darkness in her bedroom, and she later told me it wasn’t her.
Was it you? Did you call out last night? Did you need something, or someone? Was/ is your heart aching, or sadder yet, breaking, perhaps because of some terrible turn of events in your life?
Something nudged me awake. Someone called out in anguish, perhaps unknowingly, but God let me hear the message. I just want to let you know you have been in my heart and prayers ever since.
Call if you need someone to talk to. 
echoingheartbeats@gmail.com
Or hangouts.
P.S. Several hours after posting this, a girl read it and messaged me on hangouts. Yes, she had called out to me, screamed actually. She was totally alone, and I walked her through the process of giving birth!!!

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Him?? Fight Like a Tiger??!!

How many of you have read the book Pilgrim’s Progress? How many of you have never even heard of the book?

My husband and I have been reading it out loud in the evenings. It’s an old fashioned book with an up to date message. The part we are on now really jumped out at me. This strong, brave man called Greatheart in the book was leading a group of ladies to the Celestial City, when they came across an old man, sleeping. Did they leave him sleeping? Nope. It was a dangerous place to be taking a nap. 

This book represents our spiritual journey, our efforts to reach Heaven and we need to be diligent if we want to make it there.

Well, Mr. Honesty woke up with a start and old as he was ready to do battle with anything that would prevent him from reaching his goal.

Now this is the part that really impressed me. He told Greatheart and his little band of followers that he would have fought like a tiger as long as he had breath. He was sure he would have never been defeated because a Christian can never be defeated unless he yields himself.


What are you being tempted with right at this moment? Cheating on a test? Giving in to your friends who have been pestering you to do drugs with you? Hanging out with the ‘wrong’ crowd and not letting them know you as a follower of Christ? What is it? What is it?  Being disrespectful to your Mom when she is soo exasperating? A Christian can never be defeated unless he chooses to. Do you choose to trust God to see you through your trial one step at a time? He can you know.  And you can ask for prayers.

Pilgrims Progress by John Bunyanwww.prairieviewpress.com


Monday, November 24, 2014

Does God Care About the Little Things?




He sure does, and I have the cutest little doll to remind me. When we went to Africa I left part of my heart there, and had wanted to bring back an African baby doll wrapped on its mother’s back as a symbolic memory of the place.  Would you believe there wasn’t any that really looked authentic?  

I did find a painting done by a native artist of that scene which was beautiful though.

Now this is the truly neat part. The first time, the very first time I strolled into Value Village after our trip I found a super authentic looking African baby doll just sitting there waiting for me to take home.

 And here's the bonus. Never once have I seen one that looks anywhere nearly as authentic before or since.  Not even on line! Does Jesus care bout the little things? You bet.




Thursday, October 2, 2014

Can You Believe This?


(Not exactly as illustrated)
Oh well, don’t feel bad. I wouldn't have believed it either if it hadn't happened to me.
“Has anyone seen my container of embroidery cotton?” I could feel my stress level soaring as I searched frantically for all those lovely strands of colour and the box they were stored in. In my mind I was measuring the amount of days until the guest room would be needed with how much work still to be done on the Flower Basket Quilt I was embroidering for the bed.
No one knew, and more frustrating yet, no one seemed to care …at that point. After searching every plausible and many not so plausible places for the not so tiny missing item I sank into the recliner and allowed the cat to crawl into my lap. He is jokingly called Dr. Jones for a reason. He seems to know when I am not feeling well. I tried to pray and calm my nerves…
My eyes grew wide then wider

Monday, July 28, 2014

Nightmare World



We live in a nightmare world. I’m sure there are people right at this moment who are surfing the net while trying to block out terrible memories. Maybe they are hiding behind the shame of having been brutally beaten. Maybe they have been verbally abused so many times they half believe the lies that are told them. I know a little girl who is constantly being bullied. I try to help but what will be the long range results of such cruelty? I also know a woman who was physically abused as a child and it carried over into her first marriage. She managed to escape when he threatened to shoot her and the children, but the second marriage was just as bad in different ways. Are you caught in the same sort of trap and no one seems to care and understand?
What are you being called? Do you believe the lies? How have you been treated today, this last week or month? Are you the victim of an alcoholic or someone who is mentally ill? Are you too fearful or ashamed to admit it? Do you have anyone to go to that you feel safe with?
I’m not sitting in an ivory tower somewhere and tossing down bits of advice to you. I’ve been in the gutter also. I have felt the anger, the hatred and depression that comes from being molested. But I have also learned how to forgive and the healing that eventually comes with it. It wasn’t easy. I suffered emotionally for many years because of what happened, but now I am free. Now I want to reach out a helping hand to you and let you know there is a way of escape. There is hope and a light at the end of the tunnel.
To start with I’d like you to repeat these words at least ten times a day.
I am precious in the eyes of the Lord. I do not deserve to be abused. God does not want me to be abused. I am a worthwhile person.
We can’t see the future so from one day to the next it might not seem like anything is changing, but if you trust God to lead you, someday you will be able to look back and see that things have gotten better. And remember I am praying for you.
marilynfriesen.blogspot.com


Monday, December 16, 2013

Building A Bridge For You

Logan I saw you last night. Did you see me? I think you did. I saw you just once, maybe twice, glancing my way. You know I have a mother-heart for you, don’t you. Did you know that I was praying for you? You four young men were singing a powerful song. You have tremendous tenor and bass voices and the song itself was so beautiful, but I noticed the lack, and I’m sure you three brothers felt it keenly.

Thursday, December 5, 2013

We're Coming to Help You

It was dark. And cold and here we were skimming along the highway reaching 130kms per hour now and then. If you’re not metric please don’t look it up because I’m not bragging.. It’s just that we had places to go. Fast. The text messages had been coming in rapidly.  They started with this one.
“EMERGENCY. We locked ourselves out of the vehicle and the library closes at nine o’clock.”

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Oops! Wrong Food!

What do little boys do when they’re hungry? Why, find food, of course! And that’s what “Billy’ did to. Only problem is, he looked in the wrong place, and it got him into a lot more trouble than he had bargained for.