www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

Marilyn Friesen

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http://www.goodebooks.net/biblicalhttp://www.amazon.com/dp/1983717819

Thursday, October 20, 2016

2 Dumped

www.prairieviewpress.com
Mother dies on the train, kids left at an overcrowded orphanage, how will they ever find a true Home at Last? But they did! Find out how with the included link for A Home at Last by Marilyn Friesen

Monday, October 17, 2016

One Down, Three Left



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

Thursday, October 13, 2016

What Works Best-Cracked or Uncracked?


A water bearer in India had two large pots, which he hung one on each end of a pole across his shoulders. One of the cruses had a crack in it while the other one was perfect. It was a long walk from the stream to the master’s house, but this one never failed to deliver a full portion. On the other hand, the cracked container would arrive sadly depleted. Of course, the perfect vessel was proud of his accomplishments, and the poor, cracked container felt ashamed and miserable that it could do only half of what it was made to do.
After two years of perceiving, he was a bitter failure, the damaged crock spoke to the water deliverer one day by the watercourse. “I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you.”
“Why,” asked the surprised water carrier. “What are you ashamed of?”

Sunday, September 25, 2016

What Three Words Make You Smile?


Home: what a beautiful word. I have been thinking about it a lot lately and it brings a smile to my lips, a warm glow in my heart.

Home Sweet Home, a place where family and friends gather and there is harmony, joy, and peace.

Or isn’t there?  Maybe that’s just a dream or wistful thinking for you? It has been for me too, far too often. 
I remember well the heartache that raising a family can bring: the stress, the turmoil, the fighting, and yes even disrespect.

Oh, why do people talk about home, sweet home? Is it even possible this side of Heaven for those of us who had less than perfect role models?

What do you think? Can you embrace the thought with no reserve?

I’ve found the answer: since Jesus has found a home in my heart there can be love, joy, and peace in spite of storms all around. It seems like such a little thing but it isn’t.  The Light of the world is Jesus and when that light is in our hearts it will automatically be in our homes and create a balm of joy to those around us.
Sound too idealistic? Maybe it’s time to find that secret place of prayer and surrender today’s problems to Him who is the perfect Homemaker. Too busy? Lock the bathroom door and throw your burden into your Savior’s arms. Hey, no strings attached. Let go of it completely, yes completely and march away.

You may or may not notice a difference right away, but if you give Jesus a chance to help you, peace, joy and love will be restored to your little haven and soon you to will be murmuring “Home, Sweet  Home.”


P.S. Don’t give up too soon. Keep or trying, praying, trusting, and remember our Father is the best role model and He loves homes!

P.S. 2 If you could do it differently, what would you change? I would take more time to read to my children and play with them more!

Tuesday, September 6, 2016

Where Are You?

So Where Are You Dwelling?
Narrow dusty corridors run throughout the castle, they are so much like a maze I can’t keep them all straight, rules, rules, and more rules. Every so often along the stone walls a cage appears with a sad, gaunt face peering out.  Someone had broken one of the hundreds of unwritten decrees and is imprisoned by condemnation, either self-inflicted or otherwise.  It is a grim place to be but I must be there, I must work diligently every blessed, er, I mean not so blessed day of my life to keep these halls clean lest the disapproving attention of the master is drawn to me, his trembling servant.
Or must I?
Must I be constantly feeling unloved, haunted by guilt, scurrying around like a rat, forever hunted, forever guilty, forever afraid of being caught by the frowning Judge who seems to be always glowering over my shoulder?
Perish the thought! Don’t you dare think of not walking the extremely straight and narrow path, which is wicked, wicked, wicked! You must toe the line, be shackled by chains of….oh I can’t count them all, now get to work! Keep your nose to the grindstone rough and banish those flighty dreams of fantasy.
But I can’t, and in a weak moment,  flee….Ah, the desert is so beautiful! I run with frenzied haste to a beautiful oasis, a paradise filled with refreshing fountains and verdant greenery. I run and run but it forever eludes me, it is a bauble, a mirage, but ah, there is another one, closer this time, brighter and more inviting, and there is something there. I sit there, satisfied at last, but what, what? All around me ,the ‘oasis’ is drying up, fading and growing dingy and I am disappointed and continue searching for that elusive place called happiness.
Other oases s appear, success, popularity, but ah me, there is always something wrong with them. Sometimes the water is bitter, the fruit unpalatable and I cry, where oh where can I find satisfaction?
Then an angel appears, a hand to hold, guiding me, pointing the way. The path is steep and rugged but somehow I trust this leader. He seems safe and steady.
He points to the foot of a cross. I lay my burden down, uh, me such a lot of garbage I had been hauling around: stinking, vile stuff. Then he breaks the chains and such a weight falls off of me.
I turn, with tear streaked eyes to thank the angel and find He is much more than that. He is my Savior, Friend, and Guide.
Together we walk. No more do I find places where the water is bitter, the food unpalatable because He shows me the way. In His Presence is fullness o
f joy. He leads me to Living Fountains. We stay clear of bauble like havens because He knows the way and I feel safe with Him as my Attendant
Hint: there's an illusion to the desert in the fallowing link:

Friday, September 2, 2016

I Hit Send

The Glass Castle has been a long time in coming, yeah, I'm sure it felt a lot longer to me than any of your readers. It's supposed to be available as an ebook immediately and on Amazon in a few days.Could you let me know what your think of the images? It's supposed to imitate an old-fashioned manuscript sort of because of the topic but do the pictures add or subtract from the overall impression?
Feedback is always welcome, either here, on Goodreads or as a review on Amazon. Thanks and have a good day. http://www.amazon.com/dp/1511783966

https://www.createspace.com/4837922

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

Friday, August 26, 2016

Two Miracles

Anxiety Disorder (An open letter)