Marilyn Friesen

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Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts

Thursday, March 8, 2018


Now why did I have to dream about him?  In spite of things that happened in my childhood and teen years I haven’t been plagued by those kinds of dreams. Why now?
                There was a large glossy topped table between us but it was obvious that he was after me. I would rapidly walk a few steps then stop. So would he. He would cross his arms and give me a slightly sneering grin. I glanced around at the wood paneled walls. No windows and doors in sight, no escape route. I started moving again and so did he. This kept on for a while. I knew he was just wearing me down in his tormentingly leisurely way.

                I dropped to my knees, putting my head on my arms, and cried out to God. Then my alarm rang.  He vanished, but I was still troubled. Why did I dream about him?
                My husband had an explanation that echoed my own.
                “It was a good dream,” he said. “Because you knew where to turn, you cried out to God.” (Something like that.) “Your Dad represents evil to you.”
                But why did I dream it? Why, why? And then I knew. There are those of you that are facing situations like that. You and ‘him’ seem to be going round and round the table.  He ‘knows’ he will wear you down eventually and is gloating. But will he? Does he have to? No. Sure you have an adversary, but you also have an Advocate. Jesus is our protector and guide out of difficult situations.

                But do you have an advocate? Have you found Jesus to be a haven of rest ‘in the trying scenes of life’ as one song put it?  He doesn’t wave a magic wand and make all your troubles disappear but He will be there for you making you stronger, giving you comfort. Admit that you can’t ‘escape’ on your own. Admit that you are poor and needy in need of a Savior and commit everything to the lovingly Heavenly Father’s care. 

Tuesday, January 2, 2018

A Spectacular Moment in History

Those of you that have already read the first book in the series are probably ‘dying’ to know when the twins will be reunited. As a New-Year’s tantalizer, I’ll let you get just a peek at the sequel that I am working on tonight. Don’t die completely because I think you will find it worth the wait, and hopefully worth its weight in gold. Remember if you haven’t read Two Mothers, Twin Daughters, yet you still have time before this hits the market which is coming as soon as possible!

        Suddenly there she was. Alice had to be that small frightened figure with the wildly flowing red hair and a smoke blue coat draped over her arm. She was standing on the steep steps of the plane and scanning the airfield. And shivering, because it was probably a lot colder here in Edmonton than it was in Switzerland.

        The first thing Randall did when he reached his daughter was to gently remove the luggage from her hand and place it on the ground. Then he took the obviously brand-new coat and helped her into it. But that wasn't all. Next to carefully lifted the hood over her wavy tresses and tied it snugly under her chin. Alice was so touched by his gesture of kindness she wanted to throw her arms around him, but she didn’t. 

        Randall stepped back and tipped his hat. A mischievous grin played around the corners of his mouth. He thrust out his hand and Alice timidly took it. His grip was warm and strong.
       “If I didn’t know better, I’d have sworn that was Emily coming off the plane. I am so glad to meet you. Two beautiful girls as alike as peas in a pod. How much luckier could a man get? “
       A faint smile lurked in the corners of Alice’s mouth but the
very first words she ever said to her father, she later considered rather clumsy.
       “Where are the others?”
       “Wait and see,” he grinned. “Naturally, wild horses couldn’t keep them at home, but neither did your mother want to meet you at such a public place as the airport.”  

Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Don't Panic!

(Or Will Trump Triumph?)

Possibly, all over the world people have been watching the American election with keen interest…and even fear. Way up here in northern Alberta people are keeping up with the news, also, yes, and opening their arms wide to immigrants who might want to flee.
               So what do you think? Are you frightened? Excited? Enthused? I don’t think the polls were done correctly, the name that the majority had sworn allegiance to wasn’t even on the ballots.
               So calm down folks, Donald Trump may seem to be in control but God is still on His throne and watching over each one of us.

               Want to know what my Bible opened to this morning?  And I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you forever. John 14:16

The Shining Castle ( it's about the church and the world)

Friday, February 19, 2016

Alone and Suffering

This poem is my gift to you  if you feel all alone and as if no one cares.  If you can, print it out and tuck it in a safe place where you can always find it. Contact me if you need someone to talk to.

You are the one
That needs a home
A mother's love
A Daddy's care

You are the one
Who haunts my dreams
Disturbs my sleep
With your sad stare.

You are the one 
Who will be sighing
In some dark place
Alone tonight.

You are the one
I'd love to find
Take to my heart
And hold you tight.

Oh Precious Child
Just pray to God
And trust in Him
I know He cares

Oh Troubled Child
I pray someone 
Will Find you soon
And call you theirs.

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

One Wrong Decision

One Wrong Decision

Dear Diary, Cara stared at the words with growing frustration, then anger. Why do I have to resort to pouring out my feelings out on a mere scrap of paper? Isn’t there anyone, anyone at all who cares and understands? She clutched at her hair. I sure blew it way back when I was a kid, but I didn’t know any better, did I? Or did I? She leaped up and paced back and forth in front of the darkened window of the cheap apartment building.
Dear Diary, She sat down and stared at the words once again, then picked up her pen. Memories came flooding back. From her viewpoint the most precious recollection of them all seemed to be enshrined in gold. I was so happy that summer when I was nine. Les and Bonny cared for me like a daughter. I know they cared even though I stressed them out many a time with my wild ways. But I blew it. I blew it! I chose not to stay, and every home since then has been worse in one way or another. I never knew it would be such a rocky road if I took my own way, but how can I ever get back to that peace and serenity I knew as a kid on the farm?
She pressed her fingers against her lips to keep them from trembling, but the tears pooling in her eyes couldn’t be so easily stooped. I even stooped to asking Les’ if they would take me in; let me find a job in their community, but no, of course not. It was too late. They had their own children to think about. They didn’t say so, but I knew they thought I might be a bad influence on them. And it’s true. I might.
She viciously tore the tear stained paper out of the notebook, ripped it in half, crumbled it, and tossed it on the floor. I’m not the same girl I was then. In some ways I am even worse. And, yeah, their children would be curious to know what I have gone through, and in a weak moment, I would tell them…and relish it.
Oh God what do I do about this longing in my breast, so dull and yet so real? I want a different life. I want to find that light at the end of the tunnel but there are so many boulders in the way. How will I ever find it? She lay her head down on the desk and wept.

Come unto me all ye that labor, and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Matthew11:28
If this sounds like you, remember there is HOPE. Reach out to God and he will reach out to you. 

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

The Flood From a Child's Viewpoint (concluded)

Another stern command came from above, and Raibo said later he thought for sure Noah and his sons were going to plunge into the crowd and break up the fight, but just then Jakal yanked Shabo to his feet and dragged him away. Raibo didn’t dare follow, he was sure Shaba would be dead anyway.

Several weeks went by and Shaba slowly mended but made sure he never, ever came near the village where he grew up again. He would rather be torn by the claws and jaws of a lion than face another adult human. Raibo eventually found him, because he wanted to, then he went away and brought back three or four youngsters who were in just as dire circumstances as themselves.  The children hid out in the jungle but close to the Ark so that they could glimpse and hear Noah’s earnest pleading.
One day everything changed. The children stared transfixed as not one pair but two, they more and more animals filed out of the nearby woods and distant plains and up the ramp in a most orderly fashion. The children, forgetting their fear, rushed out to get a closer look at this strange phenomenon. The whole crowd grew silent, and the news must have been spread by runners because soon the surrounding hillsides were swelling with the marveling throng.
As the animals came the sky grew dark and there was the occasional flash of lightning and loud clap of thunder and Shaba saw many look nervously at the sky, but the threatened rain didn’t come.
Soon the animals had all filed in and Noah started to speak once again.  All around him men and women were muttering then beginning to disperse. Shaba lifted his arms in longing. Please, please, let me come, he begged, but Noah didn’t hear him because a burly giant next to him knocked him over and kept him down with his foot.
The giant eventually walked away and Shaba sat up, and rubbed the dirt out of his eyes. His companions had all snuck back to the safety of the undergrowth and before Shaba’s tired eyes he saw the doors slowly shut.
Shaba hung around with his friends the next few days but they were all strangely silent. 
If they were terrified of the earthquakes that repeatedly shook the earth they didn’t mention it. More and more innocent young children who had been brutally treated somehow found their way to them. Shaba became their unspoken leader.
“Shaba, I am so scared,” Kenzy murmured.
Eight year old Shaba brushed the hair from the little girl’s eyes.
“We all are, Kenzy,” he replied.
“I’m afraid he was right,” Loto whispered.
“Who was?”
Shaba nodded.
“And we’re all going to drown.”
Shaba put his hand on the little lad’s trembling shoulder.
“Ya I know we will.”
“Aren’t you scared?”
“A little.” The earth trembled beneath their feet and they hung on to each other for support.
“But I’ve listened carefully to Preacher Noah for many days and I think I understand what he was saying,”
Right then the unnatural stench from a non-wood fire reached their nostrils. Terrified, the youngsters clung to Raibo and Shaba.
“They making more and more sacrifices to appease their gods,” a newcomer announced soberly. “There was five thrown into the fire last night.”
So they believed Noah, Shaba thought, but didn’t want to admit it.
“What was Noah trying to tell them?” the newcomer asked a moment later.
Shaba took a deep breath and looked at the sky. He reached out his hand as the first raindrop fell. 
“That the earth would be washed clean of all wickedness,” He looked at each child in turn. “You know what wickedness is. “ They shuddered and stared into each-others frightened eyes.
The rain fell faster. “Shall we go to higher ground?”  Raibo asked.
Shabo hesitated then shook his head. “The bad guys will be there, and some of them will be meaner than ever,”
“What shall we do?” Kenzy wailed.
“We will pray,” Shaba decided, “To Noah’s God.

They did, and then Shaba told them that God was preparing a happy place for all the little children: a place where they would have plenty of food and playtime with no reason to ever fear again.

For some reason they became intrigued by how much water was gushing over the waterfalls and walked over to see it. All around people were yelling, screaming and pushing their way to higher ground, but the seven little children watched the cascade with rain gushing all around them.  When the ground gave away beneath their feet they were swept away to Heaven’s gate. 

Monday, December 7, 2015

The Flood From a Child's Viewpoint (continued)

                Noah was begging them to find safety in the Ark because a flood was coming to drown all the bad people. Shaba didn’t need anyone to tell him what a flood was. He would never forget how some older boys had thrown him over a small waterfall and he had thrashed and screamed his way to shore. How he had survived he would never, ever know.
                “Shaba!” The barked command made Shaba’s knees buckle. Was it Mobid? No, but it was just as bad.  The crowd quickly parted as his dad shoved his way through and flung Shaba on the ground. A woman tittered nervously as Jakal thrashed him.
                A sharp cry came from the Ark’s doorway. Jakal rose and shook his black hair out of his eyes, glared at Noah then continued beating the lad.

                Another stern command came from above, and Raibo said later he thought for sure Noah and his sons were going to plunge into the crowd and break up the fight, but just then Jakal yanked Shabo to his feet and dragged him away. Raibo didn’t dare follow, he was sure Shaba would be killed anyway. 

Friday, October 31, 2014

Scarier Than Halloween! (Concluded)

The cries seem to be coming from further away. 

She was going in the wrong direction! She made a quarter turn, carefully shuffling forward. Her hand touched something hard and she felt around it. It was the door frame. Were the children inside the house, or out? Well, the baby would be inside. She must find Lill-dae-nan at least.She dropped to her knees, crawling slowly along. Something also moving, rubbed against her arm. Re-bae-taih screamed. It felt soft and furry.

Friday, February 14, 2014

Afraid in the Catacombs

Time for another quick peek into my upcoming novel. Around Smoldering Coals.  Two children and their mother are trying to find their way back to their home in the catacombs. This is part of what I added today, so I haven't had the time to do a whole lot of editing on it.

Tayletha took two, then three candles from a stash near the door. After such a harrowing experience she wanted the comfort of light surrounding her. The fosser saw them studying the map Cedric had made for them and looked over their shoulder.
“I can draw you a quicker route,” 
Lydda and Tayletha looked at each other. Then Lydda saw the exhaustion in her son's eyes.
“Where is it?”
He took the wax tablet and started to erase it. Tayletha snatched it back. “We don't know you! Our pateras made this map and it's good enough for us.”