Free For Now

For those of you who would like to read the 'diary' of Mary the mother of Jesus but feel you can't afford it, I just want to let you know it will be available for free on Amazon for a few days starting the first of June. (Kindle form)

http://www.amazon.com/dp/1511783966
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http://www.amazon.com/Marys-Diary-Jesus-Through-Mothers/product-reviews/1511783966/ref=cm_cr_dp_see_all_summary?ie=UTF8&showViewpoints=1&sortBy=helpful

No Time to Call the Vet!

We just had a terrifying moment with our adorable, little puppy. I use an old pitcher little this with a more curved neck to water houseplants with than the one in the picture, and Cuddles got her head stuck in it. I tried to pull or twist it off, but that was impossible! Next, I grabbed a stone to break out an air hole for her. She had been calm til now but was beginning to panic, like me! I raced into the storage room and grabbed the vice grip but it seemed to take forever to chip pieces off that in-my-mind-too-durable vessel. But we did it, we did it, and Cuddles definitely wanted a reassuring moment of cuddling after that. What if our daughter hadn't noticed the puppy's predicament so quickly? What if she hadn't been there to hold her for me? God cares even about the little things.

Imitate Hezekiah

Have you ever been reluctant to do something good because you were indulging in something even better? The most sacred time of the day by far is in the early morning and late at night when everyone else is possibly sleeping. Sweet communion with the Heavenly Father is...matchless.

But-- and nay, I will not even sigh-- before dawn's early light God was inviting me to share this joy, this beauty with others like you. He had whispered the suggestion yesterday and I was prayerfully wondering how I could do justice to such a lovely topic as communion with the Father.

But do you know what? He introduced a new twist: the Bible opened to a verse about Hezekiah who was one of the good kings of Israel from the long ago Bible Times. Maybe that doesn't seem so significant but it is, it really, really is. Do you know why? It's because his Dad, King Ahaz was a nasty old man, pardon me for saying so. He sure found a lot of ways to do evil but the one that makes me cringe the most is that he 'burned his children in the fire, after the abominations of the heathen,"  (2nd Chronicles 28 part of verse three.) It's a good thing he spared Hezekiah, but we'll get to that later.  Because Ahaz was a man of power and great influence, many people suffered and even died as a result of his sins.

By now you must be convinced that I have Alzheimer's or something and wandered completely off the topic but I haven't. I wanted to lay this background so you would get a better idea why the verse I am coming to is so remarkable. It's referring to Hezekiah after he replaced his father as king.

OK, sit up straight, and listen: 'For he clave (clung,) to the Lord and departed not from following Him, but kept His commandments, which the Lord commanded Moses.' (2nd Kings 18:6)

 That's the son of an evil man that we are talking about, but fortunately, he had a mother who loved the Lord, and so I am pretty sure both of them had learned how precious it is to pray, commune, fellowship, with the Lord God. That daily contact is vital. They were surrounded by evil, and maybe you are too, but get in touch with the Heavenly Father and cling to Him like Hezekiah did. Oh my, it is so worth it!

Thanks to Dr. James Dobson for this wonderful image. 

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.

The Unknown Messenger

While stooping to fasten his sandals

So no one could look on his face 
The messenger hid his emotions 
Then accepted the final embrace.

 The apostle with tenderness sent him
 On a journey precarious and hard 
And prayed that he would be kept safely
 In the sheltering arms of the Lord.

 In the city of Rome Paul was impris'ned 
Though his mission was not truly fettered 
The youth was his faithful assistant
 To deliver his wonderful letters. 

The streets of the city were crowded 
And the envoy was jostled by throngs
 The Appian Way lead him outwards 
Til at times he traveled alone. 

In a pouch on his belt was the parchment
 Protected most oft by his arm 
More precious than water or victuals
 He was careful to keep it from harm. 

The cobblestone road lead him at length 
To a bustling harbour and dock 
But sailors must wait on their omens 
They were a timorous lot.

 At last the sea journeys were ended 
And on foot he would travel again 
With Christ as a caring companion 
He never did feel all alone. 

At noon the sun beat without mercy
But night left him feeling the chill 
Though hunger and thirst often hounded 
The mission he vowed to fulfill.

 At eve he lay down in the starlight 
And thought of his Father and Guide 
But if storm clouds would thicken above him 
An inn was the place to reside.

 At last he reached troubled Colossae 
With words from the famed brother Paul 
The scroll was cherished and preserved
 A message for saints then and now.

Marilyn Friesen

Destroy the Enemy!

Do you know there are victims of sex crimes right under our noses practically that we don’t even know of? Do you know how evil Sex Communes are? Have you ever spoken to a victim who endured unspeakable torture in one of these horrendous strongholds of Satan? Christians Awake! These powerhouses MUST be destroyed! The evil “Daddy’s” must be routed out and brought to justice. These girls need to be cared for in loving, Christian foster homes and receive the emotional and physical care most of them have never experienced before!

I am not talking theoretically. I know some of these victims and have come to love them dearly.

Please, do me; do them, a huge favor. Pray for them: fast, also, if you feel the desire to. Sign this petition to say you will join in prayer; its high time Satan’s demons are confounded!

What's Going On Here?

Her master paced agitatedly just on the outskirts of the crowd, thought better of it, then ducked behind a sycamore tree, hoping to see but not be seen. ‘Why did the scribes and Pharisees have to pick on her of all people? Why couldn’t they have chosen some worthless scum like, like well, Marta, for example. She is old and bent over and no one wants to spend a night with her anymore anyways: might as well put her out on the streets.’

He peered around the tree, why is everyone so quiet? ‘I thought they would be stoning her by now and she would be screaming out and sobbing for mercy…What in the world? He is stooping down writing on the ground? What an odd rabbi.’

He tugged at his jet black beard agitatedly. ‘Something is definitely going on here that is strange.’ He inched a little closer, careful to keep concealed behind the billowing robes of the onlookers.

John and all the rest were edging away from the girl they had dragged in. They knew she committed adultery but now they were slinking off like beaten pups. The master was feeling increasingly uneasy. ‘Does that rabbi know what goes on under cover of darkness? Does he know how sinful these scribes and Pharisees really are?’

Suddenly he felt guilty also and found himself scurrying down the street, heedless of the other men also slinking away, heedless of the stares.

Christ came to seek and to save that which was lost. Reach out to Him.

John 8:3-11

Broken...and Mended

Their sister was already there, hiding in the shadows. Acts 16:20-24
Rufus bent closer to Zonya's ear: "How did you get past the guards?"

His little sister shrugged her shoulders as if to say that wasn't a problem. "I gave them some fresh dates."

"You always were a favorite of theirs."

"What about you?"

Rufus rubbed his thumb and finger together. "Coin."

They all knew it wouldn't have helped if they had wanted to see anyone but Paul and Silas.

"Shh!" Lucas leaned forward, listening intently. They heard voices, gentle voices, not loud, cursing, angry voices, not groanings cause by intense pain but...

"Singing!" Zonya peered around the stone-walled corner to get a closer look at their favorite prisoners and her brothers crowded behind her.

The singing, although feeble at first grew stronger and stronger until it seemed to fill the whole cell with vibrant, joyous sound. The three children stared at each other with starry eyes.

"Surely God is here," Fourteen year old Lucas whispered.

They went back to their beds feeling greatly comforted, until...

(Today's post)

Zonya pulled her fur covering back over her shoulder and wondered why she had awakened. Then she felt it. Again. A tremor: it was much worse this time.  She clutched the sides of her straw pallet not sure what to do, but the next time it happened she was sure that the city was in the throes of a full-fledged earthquake so tore through the darkness towards her parents separate room, her brothers at her heels.

Mama clung to her and rocked her, stroking her hair, but Zonya could tell her mother was just as frightened as she was.

"Where's Papa?" Zonya wailed.

"At the prison: the shaking is much worse there, and he is afraid some criminals might escape."

Lucas sounded sober. "We need to pray to the true God for protection."

"I bet God is punishing everyone because Paul and Silas were "---

"Hush, Child, we were about to pray."  Ten year old Zonya snuggled against her mama's boney shoulder and closed her eyes tightly.

No one started to pray out loud until the pottery leaped off the shelf and broken fragments lay scattered all around them.

"Help me God," Mama shrieked, or maybe they all had.

They continued cowering and frightened with blankets or fur mats over their heads for what seemed like hours until the door flung open.

"Papa!"

"Paul! Silas!"

"You're safe!"

"What happened that they let you come here?"

Papa looked weary, haggard even, but radiant.

Mama anxiously scurried around finding a basin of water and rags to cleanse the nasty-looking wounds on the men's bare backs. They had tears in their eyes as she gently dabbed at the sores before applying some ointment. The men barely flinched during these ministrations but were talking earnestly and excitedly about the miracle God had performed.

"I heard you sing!" Zonya burst out.

Her parents looked astonished, concerned, but Rufus glared at her. Her mother gave her a 'we'll talk about this later' look.

What seemed like hours passed, and especially the children sensed that they were all knitted together in the bond of love. It made Zonya very happy that her parents believed in 'the preacher's God,' the one that was kind and merciful and someone asked what would hinder them from being baptised.

After confessing their sins to God and one another, they knelt in a circle, and Paul, capable as always, poured a little water on their heads in baptism and prayed for each of them in turn.

After that Mama prepared some victuals for the men. The boys suddenly felt hungry also, so she laid out enough for the whole lot of them.

"It's funny eating in this watch," Zonya exclaimed, but dug in with gusto.

As long as she lived Zonya never forgot how God let His servants get away when it seemed impossible.

There are people today who are chained in various ways. Maybe you are one of them. Don't get panicky or discouraged: God has a way of escape for you also. Look up to Him in simple trusting faith and let Him lead you one step at a time. Take His hand. 

A Continuation of My Spiritual Journey

Okay, as I'm sure most of you have gathered by now, I did eventually join the Holdeman, Mennonite church. Since we are trained to to keep away from cliches like 'wasn't smooth sailing, or a 'bed of roses',  hang on for a sec while I  try to come up with something more original.

There were a few things that were making life difficult at this time. As if being a teenager wasn't problem enough, I was also suddenly thrust into a single parent home in a straight environment compared to the casual one of childhood, or the tumultuous one my father had recently adopted. I wasn't one of those laid-back whatever will-be-will be type of gals either. My sensitive nature caused intense mood swings; yup I know what depression was all about.

And Satan wanted me.

Late one night while laying wide awake on my bed an oppressive presence overpowered me, I mean literally and I felt my hands being clamped against the mattress and this leering face inches from mine. I don't know how many minutes this lasted, but it was plenty long. I remembered trying to pray but it seemed ineffectual.

The Word of God speaks of having 'power on her head because of the angels.' (1. Corinthians 11) Whether this scripture meant that the angels would be able to give me more protection if I had my head covered, or that the fallen angels had more power against me without this symbolic protection, I couldn't say, but it left me feeling defenceless against the attacks of the Evil One.

Eventually with a sadistic laugh and a few contemptuous words the presence faded yet leaving me feeling shaken for days to come. I have never had a casual take-it-or-leave-it attitude about wearing a prayer covering since.

Gimme My Money!

Acts 16: 16-19. The Bible says very little about the damsel in this story, but we can hope it turned out something like this, can’t we?
It doesn’t take a studious historian to know that women have been used and misused almost since the beginning of time. What is it about the fairer sex that causes men to take advantage of her?  Here’s an example, of course my imagination had to kick in to fill in the details.

“Okay, damsel, get out there, hurry now, those Christian men are heading to the place of prayer, and you know what you are supposed to say.”
The young girl lowered her eyelashes for the briefest instant and stifled a sigh. Yea, of course she knew what to say and she knew the terrible beatings, or worse, she would have to endure if she didn’t appease her masters. At least they didn’t demand that she try to sell her body to these preachers: that would seem impossible, she knew they were good men, and loved the One True God.
“These men are the servants of the most high God,” she called, then glanced worriedly at her owner. ‘I’m not being forceful enough.’
“These men are the servants of the most high God,” she called out once again, trying to make her voice sound stronger and more mocking.
Several people scurrying by paused to look at her then at the men. They knew that she was considered a wicked woman so cast the humble, earnest preachers’ scornful looks.
“If Delilah says good things about them, they must be worthless frauds,” they told each other.
Tears sprung to Delilah’s eyes, she knew they were good men and hated what she was doing.
“These men show us the way of salvation,” she screeched, and several others scurried over to Master Kasich to pay to have their fortunes told next. She felt creepy for always ‘knowing’ what to say about their future, and didn’t enjoy doing it.
This continued day after day, Delilah was impressed that the men never yelled at her or knocked her around because of her scornful shouting. ‘Do they know I don’t really want to do this? If they know surely my masters will catch on also.’
She tried desperately to try to be louder, more raucous, and saw the men who had bought her rub their hands together maliciously, gleeful that she was bringing them so much business.
But then something happened.
The preachers turned to look at her, and her heart pounded loudly. The tall, thin one, she already knew his name was Paul, seemed so grieved. ‘Is He mad at me?’ But no, he started speaking, and it seemed like he was talking to someone else, that ‘someone’ inside her that made her say such mean things even when she didn’t want to.
Delilah’s eyes widened, Paul was commanding the evil spirit to come out of her in the name of Jesus Christ!
Suddenly Delilah felt so released, so free, so filled with a quiet joy. She would have collapsed with the wonder of it all if Silas hadn’t taken her by the arm to steady her.
Of course Kasich grabbed her roughly and told her to get back to work, but she didn’t, she simply couldn’t say anything against these godly men, she couldn’t even foretell the future for any of the customers crowding around, either.
After roughing her up for a while they turned on the men, and Delilah knew they would be in deep trouble.
We’ll get to that in the next story, but I like to think someone, a kindly Christian matron, perhaps, had been watching Delilah pityingly all these days. Now that the mob was focused on the two would-be prisoners she took Delilah by the arm, and whispered,
“Would you like to come home with me?”
What do you think Delilah said?
This is one of my favorite verses: ‘For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.’ Can you grasp that? 

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