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Marilyn Friesen

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Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts

Monday, September 18, 2017

Eat What's Set Before You---Or Choke On It

I love having BnB guests. I love scurrying around in anticipation of wonderful new visitors coming to our home and getting onto exciting and sometimes amazing topics. It has been the joy of my life to open our home to guests and I have frequently called it my dream job.

So, why such an odd sounding title at the top of the page? Well, we are kind of out in the boondocks and sometimes a week or two passes between company arriving and I get involved in other things. You can guess what happens then: housekeeping doesn’t and can’t remain absolutely top priority. But when I hear guests are coming whoopee, I love to whip things into shape, and add my special loving touches here and there which are only for them.

I did it again last Friday. Then they texted about the time we were beginning to expect them. ‘Oh sorry, we didn’t realise you were so far from the city. It won’t work. Have a nice weekend,’ or something like that.

Glup. Well, I decided not to choke on what was set before me and told my friend “I guess we’ll be sleeping in a bed and breakfast tonight,”



Remember you’re always welcome to ‘get away from it all" at Hollyhock Haven BnB.  We’re on Air BnB in Alberta somewhere. 

Thursday, June 30, 2016

Something Supernatural, you're Kidding, Right?


I suppose you are wondering if the euphoria of being healed wore off after a few weeks, maybe even days and I was just my old weary self again. I’m telling you, it was not like that at all. In fact, it just kept getting better and better.

That happened way back in April of this year, the 23 to be exact, and I still can’t praise God enough.

For my quiet time alone with God I enjoy studying various topics but lately I'm having a hard time getting past the praise stage. Oh sure, I’ll throw in a plea or two for some dear one but even that is with a confidence that God is on the giving hand.

Did I tell you about what happened about three weeks ago? I sure should have if I hadn’t. You know, my whole life was identified, mapped out by the plague of dizziness. I couldn’t even drive hardly, and for sure not in the city! Well, our daughter had moved away, but she wanted to sell her car back in Alberta, and that means we, as in Mom and Dad had a great excuse to go visit her, and bring back her car.

Problem is, that meant someone would have to drive one of the vehicles back.

Here’s where Yours Truly was supposed to come in. I solemnly, and repeatedly told my husband I couldn’t do it. For some reason whatever had been going on in my head the last few years caused me to get so extremely sleepy behind the wheel that I didn’t dare drive longer than twenty minutes for fear of not being able to get to the side in time to stop.

But he wanted me to do it, and yes, this was after that All Important day in April. At this time I was still having some trouble with headaches but not vertigo. 

We were already in Saskatchewan when a partial solution came to me.  If we drove at night then the sun wouldn’t be beating in my face all the time making me as drowsy.

Well we left in the late afternoon, and my poor husband was so concerned that he kept stopping to see how I was doing. But I was fine, completely fine!

Oh my, those words don’t cut it at all! We went through miles and miles of prairie, a couple of cities and I just drove on and on and on no trouble at all.

But I’ll tell you a little, no an awesome secret. I wasn’t all alone. It seemed like the whole car was filled with the Presence of God, even the vast Saskatchewan sky was displaying His handiwork in a glorious panorama of evening colors. My heart was overflowing with joy, gratitude and praise and I sang and prayed and sang some more. It was an incredible experience.

We are getting close to the end of June now and my body just keeps getting better and better. Even my personality is improving. (Smile.)

It seems like the real me had been locked up to a large extent in a cage and now it has a chance to truly blossom.

Sure, maybe I am a cheerful person by nature, but in the last few weeks I have been getting down
right bubbly. God is sooo good!






Monday, February 15, 2016

Fog-Bog


The fog was thick like walls around
Impen'tratable and deep
And there was I so sick and sore
And too inclined to weep.

But move I must so slowly walked
With weary feet and mind,
The trail was slanting lower still
But I was feeling blind.

How long I plod this downward trek
I cannot think or say,
I longed to feel a hand in mine ,
A Guide to lead the way.

I dimly knew that God was kind
And won't forsake His own
But demons taunted in that mist
Which made me sigh and groan.

Yet when I felt all hope was gone
And I had lost the road
I weakly said "I'll not give up"
I'll trust in Christ my Lord. 


POST SCRIPT:
I'm standing now on Blessings' Peak

(An angel brought me there.)
Rainbows of hope swirl all around
The Lord God answers prayer.

Marilyn Friesen

To read an inspiring book by this author click on the following link.

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

The First Christmas Is Drawing Nigh


24th  Chisleu
December 9th
Dear Diary,
This has been a very, very hard day. I am almost too weary to write, but must because such memorable things are happening. My body is being wracked with pain. I’ve clung to the poor donkey’s neck and I let my veil conceal my face so Yosef would not see how difficult it has been for me. Not that I fooled him for one moment. He is so anxious, he keeps asking whether or not we should press on to reach Beth Lechem’s khan(inn), by nightfall or if he should let me rest more often.

As it is, many have tramped on ahead. We are left behind with the roving wild animals, the geshem,, and perhaps even bandits for company. But I do not need to think of that. My emotions are fragile for many reasonssomehow, I still know that Adonai,  hallowed be His Name,  will care for us and His own beloved Son.




24 Chisleu
December 9th
continued
This page will surely be unreadable because I can’t keep the tears from falling. We finally reached Beth Lechem by nightfall but there was no room at the khan, no room at all! All the rooms above the shelter for the animals were overcrowded with wealthy wayfarers, much wealthier than us. In the courtyard below, the animals had scarcely enough room to shuffle around.

The innkeeper seemed apologetic, but helpless. Yosef pleaded for him to suggest someplace—anywhere for us to stay, but the poor, overwrought innkeeper shook his head sorrowfully.
“I am sorry. So sorry,” the innkeeper said, stroking his long, wavy beard agitatedly. He lifted his hand to point at the people crowding around.
“See this multitude? They too are in the same predicament that you are in.”
“But is there not somewhere, anywhere that we can go?”

In Yosef’s desperation, he reached out to clutch the steward’s striped garment.

“Look, it is not for me that I am concerned,” Yosef continued, “t is for my wife! She is young, slight of build, yet great with child. I fear that all this traveling may bring travail upon her earlier than it ought. We need to find a shelter where she can rest.”

The paunchy innkeeper’s brow furrowed as he gazed around, as if looking for direction. Someone plucked at his sleeve, demanding attention, with a scowl he nudged him aside.

“On yonder ridge is the town, but you will fare no better there.  Nary a house is not overfilled with guests at this time. Many have long awaited the  census already,  and I fear no one is willing or able to take in more travellers.”

“But is there no where for us to go? We are of the lineage of David!

‘”The lineage of David? Aye, that should help, should help. Know you not of any relative you could stay with?”
            Yosef wrung his hands. “I know of none. We should have inquired earlier..

The innkeeper stepped back and fumbled with his sash. “This small town is not able to contain all those of David’s line.” He finally admitted, sighing heavily.
“Yonder ridge has its share of caves. Many of them will be used as stables in this present predicament, but if you can find a little rest in one of them, you are welcome to it. I will send a servant after you with fresh straw.

“If you require a midwife before the night is over, I may find a moment to check into it, but it will be nigh impossible to secure one at this time. More than one woman is in the same dire condition as your sweet wife.”

In gratitude, Yosef took his hand, clasped it, then reached for the lead strap on the donkey so we could clamber awkwardly down among the rocks in search of a grotto turned into a stable. I lowered the veil back over my face, lest Yosef would see the despair written there.

We did find a cave, however, without too much searching.

When Yosef was able to get the clay lamp lit, it seemed more cozy and inviting. It was rather crowded, unfortunately. Yosef is trying to
persuade some of our fellow cave dwellers to take their lowing, smelly, burden bearers and hustle off to give us a measure of peace.

I am so weary that all I want to do is remove my wet garments, find something dry to wear, and try to rest.  Yosef was rather anxiously fluffing up the fresh straw, which was delivered by a young lad with a hand cart, he is now shaking out our blanket.


I laid  the baby’s swaddling strips near the fire to dry. Fortunatelywe had kept one blanket packed well so it wouldn’t get wet on the trip. It was somewhat damp in a couple places but it was better than nothing. We sat beside a central fire until I was warmed up, which seemed to take
forever, then we crawled under our one rather thin blanket together.
In the stall next to ours are two donkeys, tied up, their owners are lounging against a nearby wall. At the far end of the cave, there is some activity going on. I think a shepherd is about to aid a ewe giving birth. Will there be two male ‘lambs’ born before the night is o’er?

24th Chisleu
December 9th
Dear Diary,
I feel that my time is drawing nigh, I am anxious. It is frightening to think of having my baby without my mother, or a midwife nearby. I am worried about the baby. What will happen if He comes before we can move on to a better dwelling? This cave is not clean enough!

Two of the wayfarers, a middle-aged couple, were cooperative and helped us out. Some of the others growled that they were here first and were not at all inclined to be agreeable under such chilly weather conditions.

I fear they have been indulging too long in the wine that is red.

Oh, surely, surely Adonai, hallowed be His Name, will be with me during this difficult time. My every breath is a prayer that  Adonai will
protect His own Beloved Son and me.

By the dejected slope of Yosefs shoulders, I can sense that he feels that he has somehow failed me and us. I must stop writing now and tell him how warm and inviting it all looks by the light of the lamp. Surely these stabbing pains will ease now that I have a place to rest. It seems too soon for the little one to make His appearance.



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Friday, December 11, 2015

It's Coming Nearer!

Are you ready for Christmas? Are you sure? What about that story of Jesus' birth that you wanted to get for your children or grandchildren but in the hustle and bustle of the season it just didn't seem quite so important after all. Here's a little reminder of what the Christmas Season is all about. Sure it's called a Winter Holiday, or whatever now, but remember JOY to the world the LORD is come!! Imagine how sad this world would be if Jesus had NOT
 come!




20th  Chisleu
December 4th


Dear    Diary,
I am not feeling very brave today even though the stars are twinkling brightly in the otherwise black, early morning sky. Yosef is
loading Balaam, our donkey.

Somewhere, far, far away, in a place called Beth Lechem, the stars are also shining, I suppose, but the track is so rough and dark between here and there.

There are treacherous mountains just  few furlongs from the road we must take, who know what kinds of animals might come prowling around at night.

It will take us many days to get there, this is happening so close to when the baby is expected to arrive! I have never been far from home, except for the time I went to see Aunt Elisheva I dread this journey.

At least this time I will have Yosef with me. What a consolation. My deepest fear is for the Baby, because I am so near the end. Oh, if only it would have worked out to have left earlier. Will He be alright?

I know we will not be traveling alone but that is not much of a consolation.

Cousin Abigail, once my dearest friend, will be in the company, but she has been cool and aloof since my condition was revealed. It might be easier to handle than the scathing remarks Shoshoni made to Tamara at the marketplace. I think she knew  I might have overheard her.

My sister, Hanalei, claims Shoshoni has always been jealous of me, but why, I am not that special. Some have called me sweet and pretty but she is beautiful and sophisticated. Besides, her father is a prosperous  merchant and we are so poor.

It has been such a trial since the villagers shunned me  While whispering behind their hands.



I am so lonely for the merry prattle we aant’ats used to share when we met at the well each morning. Now everyone just falls silent or walks slowly away while
my eyes dolefully follow them. Oh well, it could be so much worse.

For some reason, and I am not sure why, it has not made that great of a difference that Yosef married me. Is it because of Yaakov? I probably shouldn’t have written that, yet I do know that someone is spreading rumors that Yosef is not the father of my child. Obviously, I am too far along for it to have happened since we were betrothed…

They have been saying that I was overtaken by a Roman soldier. They do ravage careless maidens at will, especially while in a drunken stupor. Of course, that is so impossible! My parents would never let their daughters be alone if they had to be out at night.

My aleichem(neighbors), could be making cutting remarks to my face but most of them don’t.

I mentioned Shoshoni, but really, most of them don’t say anything much . . . in my presence, at least. Sometimes I fear that the Little One I care about so deeply may have to suffer much worse persecution than I. Oh, how I yearn to protect Him!

Why do such thoughts come to me? Most people are confident  that the Mashiach will be a glorious King and will rule with a scepter of gold. If that is the whole
truth, why would a poor talitha like me be asked to be His mother? It is confusing. I am so inadequate for such a privilege, and it is such an awesome responsibility.

I wish Imma could come along to Beth Lechem. It would be such a comfort. But, on the other hand, maybe it is better that she is not able. She tends to worry so, saying things like,

“Be sure to keep warm, do not let yourself get too tired.”


She has told me that countless times, or so it seems. How can I keep from getting tired? I am worn out already, and we have not even begun. Imma is scurrying towards me with a nicely wrapped parcel of food for the journey. I really must go assist her.


Maybe you want this Christmas to be really refreshing. Maybe you are longing to have a real classical book to remind you of the true story of how Jesus came to earth and changed the world. Don't wait any longer. Here's a treasure that will be a precious reminder for years to come of how wonderful Jesus is. You might want to set it close to your Bible and use it as a Devotional, even.

Thursday, December 3, 2015

Tumbling Into a Valley

Now where shall I start this article? I have spent three glorious weeks travelling and it has been truly a mountaintop experience, but now I have tumbled down into the valley. See that little old lady with a cane? Well that
feels like me. All that driving in a car really crippled me up and I still can’t walk—change that to limp—without discomfort. I told my hubby last night that I felt imprisoned in my own body. Okay, that’s the down side of my experience, but there is a definite UP side. We stopped to see relatives in various places as far flung from each other as Edmonton, Alberta and way down to Oklahoma. We did go further than that though: Mississippi was our goal.
 Do you know what people have in common? A caring attitude.
When we reached Stephen’s sister is Kansas, I pretended to walk normally but didn’t deceive anyone. It wasn’t long before they were hovering over me like I was a beautiful bird with a broken wing.  Did that compassion soon stop? Nope. Because of generous, concerned loved ones, I ended up seeing chiropractors not once but four times before we arrived back home, and once since.
I admit being a little leery of having my bones manipulated, but hey, when you are desperate enough, you’ll do anything right?  To my surprise chiropractic methods have really soared over the last thirty years, and I was introduced to something called an Activator which really helped.  Believe it or not, anyone could have seen the improvement in my walk if there had been a before and after video taken.
No, it wasn’t a magic cure-all but hey, it took years to get into this condition which was caused mainly by an ancient injury, but at least I see light at the top of the valley I have tumbled into.
Oh, by the way, when I started rambling I didn’t really know which way this article was going, but there is one thing I must share with you.

Medical problems in the states aren’t something we Canadians look forward to having, but do you know what? Four of those treatments, plus ointment, plus pills and plus a couple of informative books were all provided anonymously free of charge. Any wonder why I’m feeling a bit teary-eyed?

Monday, September 7, 2015

What Happened to the Living Bread

This is based on a true story from what we call the Dark Ages. Thank you Google Images for the suitable picture.

Margit looked anxiously as her husband Jacob.

“Are you sure the children will be safe whilst we are gone?”

“They are in the Father’s care, wife. He will watch over them just as He will be with us.”

Margit nodded and picked up her satchel. If it were not for the urgent need to see her dying mother in another valley and another town, they would not have considered leaving their children overnight.

“Fear not, mother,” seventeen year old Eloise comforted, “We will be fine. Obed will care for the goats and other outdoor chores and I what pertaineth to the house.”

Margit nodded, and then whispered in Eloise’s ear. “Beware of the soldiers.”

Eloise was fearful, but pretended not to be, as she let her handkerchief flutter gaily in the breeze while watching their parents make their way through the empty streets.

Soon the early morning mist hid them from view.

                Well, we might as well start with our chores,” she began. “It will make the time go faster.”

Obed nodded and picked up the milk bucket, “Beware of the soldiers,” he also warned.

Once again they were on a rampage against the Christians. She shook her head woefully before picking up the straw broom to sweep into all the corners of their three room abode.

After that was done, she cleared the breakfast dishes off the table, and washed them in a pottery bowl, searched for the eggs from their tiny flock of chickens clucking in the yard, and laid out the ingredients for making the daily bread.

A few minutes later her fifteen year old brother handed her the milk from the goats then caressed the Bible resting on the corner of the wooden plank table.

“Henrik and Maria were taken in for questioning, “He informed her.

Although Eloise’s hands were busy adding the starter mixture to the ingredients in her dough trough, she stole a glance at the word of God.

“Aye, but it is so precious,” she murmured. “Our lives have been much changed since Papa and Mama have been taught by the Word. Papa no longer comes home drunk and brutal, and---“

“Shh, I know. But be careful. I must needs bring the goats out to pasture.  But ye be careful, ya hear?”

Eloise nodded and had a strange impulse to hug him, but that was not done in those days, so she dismissed it.

The silence hung heavily about the house after the last family member departed. Eloise wiped her hands on her apron and strained the milk.

I will put it to cool in the stream once the bread is rising.

Eloise found herself gazing frequently out the one small window at the street winding past their house. Then she heard it: the tromp of soldiers’ feet. They were across the street now, pounding on Neighbour Saul’s door but within minutes they would arrive at their own, ready to confiscate the Bible once they laid eyes on it, and possibly throw her in prison for breaking the law.

Eloise’s heart pounded as she snatched up the life changing word and pressed it against her bosom. Where oh where can I hide it?

The rough, angry voices grew louder, they were nearer.

“Forgive me Lord,” she whispered as she plunged the Bible into the dough that she had begun to knead  and carefully folded another portion on top.

“Open up! We command ye!”


“My hands are in the dough,” she responded with a slight tremor, “But the latch string is on the outside.”

The three burly men seemed to fill the space as they crowded in. Eloise noticed their eyes were blood shot.

“Hand over the heretic’s Bible,” the spokesman demanded. “We have heard that your parents purchased one from that wicked bookseller who came into the valley.”

“How we can hide anything in this small abode, “Eloise asked gently, “If ye insist on searching, look for yourselves for my hands are sticky.”

It didn’t take long before everything was upturned and even their straw pallets were slashed open.

“Where are your parents?” Simon demanded.

“They went to visit a dying relative. “She sprinkled some more flour into the mix and continued pressing it with the heels of her hands.  It is a good thing that Mama asked me to make a large batch so we would have some to give to the poor and needy, she thought, but one corner of the Bible did want to protrude.

“Did they take it with them?”


“Take what with them?   

“The Bible, you imbecile!”

“I trow not. They would not prate around town with such a dangerous item.”

“Simon, we are wasting your time here,” Thomas grabbed him roughly by the shirt. “It’s obvious there are no books of any kind in this humble cottage. We must be going.”

Simon cast one last suspicious glance at Eloise’s pale face before stomping out.

Many hours later Obed returned, his eyes wide with concern. “Where is the Word,” he asked? “I heard they made a search."

“Be careful when you cut the bread,” she answered simply.


www.prairieviewpress.com (Marilyn Friesen)







































































Monday, April 13, 2015

What's Ahead For Me?


Who walked this road before me,
Who traveled down this lane?
Does it get wet and muddy,
Is it obscured by rain?


You walked this road before me
And your report is true.
You said that it got snowy
Add it was slippery to.

He walked this road before me
And said he could not see
The panther that was howling
From a starkly blackened tree. 

She walked this road before me
And said that it was lined
With fragrant, wild roses
And morning glory vines.

I'll walk this road before me
I'll travel on with care
It is the path I've chosen
To focus on this year. 

Marilyn Friesen