MMMarvelous Memories of a Mom

There is nothing so thrilling as delivering a baby and having it laid in your arms for the first time. Many times before my first wee one was born I dreamed about her, and, in fact, I even dreamed that she was a red hair and I’d call her Audrey. What delicate hands she had! Oh, those sweet little fingers wrapped around my finger were so adorable. With all my heart I wanted to be the best little Mommy a woman could be. Even before Audrey came into the world, we communicated: I loved to sing to her and read Bible Stories out loud to my Little Blessing. It was such a lot of fun banging on the side of the tub with the hard handle of a brush while watching her kick back in response! Another time she let me know that my stress was affecting her. I was getting some dental work done, and she kicked wildly.

With e

The Cauldron of Pain

Ever have a caldron thumped in front of you?

It was quite a surprise; no I mean shock wasn’t it: a shock to the whole system. I don’t mean a real caldron now, but it’s sure real enough.

Someone offered to give me free laser therapy treatment, something I had never even heard of before, and I thought sure why not. Before I knew it she was looking me deep in the eyes and saying you have deep burdens. Me? I thought I was a happy, peaceful person, but would you believe I started to cry! Not only that but I was spilling out memories I haven’t been talking about for years. Again she gave me that deep penetrating look. Have you forgiven your Dad? I honestly thought I was able to several years ago, but the next question was harder. Have you forgiven yourself?

I feel like stopping there, but it wouldn't be fair to either you or me. Forgive myself? How could I? I’m the one to blame for not being a better mother, I’m the one to blame for every mistake my children have ever made, every discord between hubby and me, I am the one to blame for been          “ “ attractive”"  to my Dad. Does it sound familiar? Is it easy to forgive oneself?  

She told me the abuse usually starts at around the age of five—I told her my flashbacks reached back to my infancy--. She told me to take that baby me and hold her close, tell her she’s safe now, loved.

 I did. I tried at least, but my the fumes of emotions from that caldron keep wafting before and the dregs of painful memories are being stirred up.

Today is going to be a full, full day socially. Again. And I feel like a nervous wreck. What a time to ‘mother’ needy friends. 

I need your prayers. ‘She’ said to hold that baby close and comfort her, but it isn’t enough. I feel like I need to give that tiny Marilyn to Jesus to comfort and heal, but where is the courage?  I feel so wounded, so vulnerable that I don’t even want to trust her to Jesus’ care.

I was discussing this with a couple of our children yesterday, and one remarked that Jesus was there
   all along.  Yes. I’m trying to hand her over to Him, but oh, my, the grown up I needs holding to.

If you’re going through this same battle, have courage, Jesus is with us even in the valley of the shadow of death, even when the poisonous mists almost overwhelm us.

Face forward!

The First Christmas Has Arrived!!!

Festival of lights

25^th  Kislev

December 9^th

He’s come! Yehoshua has come! I cannot begin to express my

gratitude, and adoration! What a privilege it is to be the first one to

hold the treasured Son of God. Oh dear, tears are running down my

face again! He is so precious. I just can’t say it enough. It tugs at my

heart strings when I see how incredibly tiny and helpless He, the Son

of El’Shaddai, is.

Poor, Sweet Little Claudine

I suppose some of you might be wondering what happened to Claudine and her baby. I guess I shouldn't have put off finishing this story for so long, but it has been a bit hard to cope with. Claudine was faithful until the end. Amazingly, joyously faithful, something we can't comprehend because we have never been asked to suffer in that way. I believe her heart was broken that she was never able to see her infant again, but even I, with my limited understanding of agony know and have the assurance, that Jesus was there for her. I suppose she often wondered how little Jans was doing but perhaps he died at an early age which was so common in those days. I'm sure yearnings and prayers for her husband and children lingered in her heart at all times, but there was something more. God was giving her strength, she loved Jesus so much, and sensed her Saviour's love in return that she would have gone singing to her death if they wouldn't have gagged her. Well, she's gone to her reward now, and that is no idle platitude and perhaps I will someday get to know her on the Other Side.

Just Pretend to Change

This is part of a true story from the Martyr's Mirror. Scroll down until you get to the first one about the Couple (or Neighbour Next Door and read upwards. It will make a lot more sense that way.

“Claudine, don't be so hard on yourself,” a childhood friend pleaded as she handed her a basket after the guard had left. “Just give lip service to their demands.”

Claudine's eyes widened. “You mean tell them I won't serve Jesus anymore?” That was unthinkable.

“Shh! Not so loud! The guard might hear you!” Grieken laid her hand on her friend's arm. “You have been in this dirty dungeon for over a year, now. Just tell them you will obey their rules, and--”

“But I can't!”

“Don't you want your baby back? I'm sure he is crying for you every night.”

Claudine's pale face crumpled.

“You can just pretend not to follow Jesus,” Grieken continued. “God will forgive you.”

“Maybe. But I could never forgive myself! Grieken why are you talking this way? He--our Heavenly father-- is so good to us!”

Grieken shrugged. “Others are recanting.”

“Others? Really?”

“Yes. They are terrified of being buried alive. That is the latest punishment.”

Claudine's white face grew even whiter and she leaned against the stone wall to keep from collapsing. She lifted her chin slightly. “I can never recant. Never! The thought makes me ill, dear sister. Jesus died for me. He's been with me every step of the way. Oh please don't suggest such awful things to me!'

Grieken lifted one corner of the cloth covering the basket. “I just wanted to help.”

She leaned closer and whispered into Claudine's ear. “There is a letter from your husband in there, so bite carefully.”

Claudine smiled weakly. That meant it was probably baked into the loaf of bread.

“Are they praying for me?”

Grieken looked solemn. “Yes, sister. Everyday. Many times a day I am sure your name is breathed in prayer.”

Claudine nodded but didn't look up when Grieken left. Her heart was broken, but Jesus was there. It was enough.

Books by this author may be found at Tate Publishing, Amazon and elsewhere. Just type in Marilyn Friesen in the search box.

YOU CAN'T TAKE MY BABY !!!

Okay, I've skirted the issue long enough. It's high time we stopped wondering what the neighbours thought and see and feel it from Claudine's viewpoint. As a mother I find this awful hard to write because what she experienced had to be painful to put it mildly.

“Okay, Jannie boy, let's do it again.” She clapped his pudgy little hands together and sang a playful, made up rhyme. The baby's pink cheeks were wreathed in smiles so of course the mother's heart was light with joy also. His sweet cooing was like music to her ears.

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“I'm coming to take the baby.”

“WHAT?”

“You heard me right, ma'am. We've tried with all patience and perseverance to get you to see the errors of you ways, but you refuse.”

Discoveries in the Land of Primo

Some of the discoveries in the land of Primo were pleasant, and some they didn't mind so very much--until later! One such object was the Rocky Ridge all around one wall of their little abode.

Invasion In Primo

Have you ever heard of the wonderful land, the glorious land, the warm and happy land of Primo? It is not so very far away, but is in a dim and mysterious country where strange and incredible things happen every day.