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?”

Better Than a Fairy Tale

Do you want to hear a story that is so marvelous that you’ll think I made it up? I know for a fact that it is true ‘cuz it happened to me over forty years ago and the results ripple right down to the present.

Okay, where shall I start? Guess what, I have something in common with a lot of you. I come from a broken home. I know the anguish of seeing a marriage torn apart right in front of my eyes and feeling the effects in my own soul because it was my Mom and Dad.

Ours was one of those old-fashioned homes where you didn’t tell others what was going on behind closed doors: gotta put on a good front, y’know. So what was the result? Pain and heartache and groping in despair.

But I did reach out: I was not as reserved as some of my siblings so talked to our pastor, or at least tried too. He listened impassively, or so it seemed. I got more desperate: our home was falling apart right in front of my eyes, Mom and Dad didn’t love one another anymore, and I and my hapless brothers and sisters were caught in the vortex.

So I did what only a writer would do, I put my heartache in words, in poem form actually, and gave it to him when I had the opportunity. What did he do? He gave it back and said: “that’s very nice.” Did it help? Nope. (Wish I still had that poem.)

I see that this is going to end up being a whole lot longer than I had expected, but I promise you it does have a happy ending. What a trite word. Come on give me a better one, joyous, blessed, comforting,-- gratifying? No one word seems to describe what I went, and am going through.

But I know you have places to go, and things to do, so stay tuned until tomorrow, and yes, I’ll keep writing while you face your day.

 P.S. Please check out my book. (Link below.) If you want to escape from a troubled past and hope for a better future, this may be the most comforting book you will ever read, 

 http://www.amazon.com/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.de/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.es/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.fr/dp/1511783966
 http://www.amazon.it/dp/1511783966

https://www.createspace.com/4837922

What Are You Doing Today?

Are you in prison, or even in a dungeon, perhaps? Where are you in your mind, your heart, your spirit? Do you feel trapped, overwhelmed, pressured, frantic, lonely or in despair? Does it feel like no one understands, and maybe they don't either because of problems of their own? Do you feel like you have no one to turn to and every time you move forward you hit against a brick wall or a tangle of thorns? You're facing darkness, which causes frustration, a hopeless feeling while seeing no way out. "Someone put the lights out in the tunnel, but it wasn't me," you say. I've gone through that, too. Maybe not to the extent some of you have, but I know what it is like to be in a fog, in emotional distress, so may I offer you a hand to hold? Oh, my, I feel so inadequate to get my message across! I know there are folks out there who are suffering, they are part of the Broken Hearted Anonymous Communities and are on the fringes of life. I'd reach out my hands imploringly "let me help you, let me help carry your burden," but I am so inadequate. But, fortunately, there is hope. Even though those of us that care feel so helpless to do enough, there is someone who can help. Have you met Jesus? Do you know that He is the dearest, most faithful Friend of all? Did you know He is the great Burden Bearer, the Healer? Do you know that He is reaching out to comfort you? Did you? He wants to remove all those worries, vices, and what not all that you are carrying, replace them with His love and His peace then hold you close to His bosom. Did you know that? Will you let Him do it? I know, it takes a step of faith, but you can trust Him, I promise. I found out for myself. I promise, you can trust Him, and when you are ready to start walking again, he will take your hand if you let Him, He will guide you through the dark valleys, the storms and the desert. Trust Him. I know it's true because He did it for me. And oh, here's a great post-script. When you walk hand in hand with Him long enough, you will discover that as one song says 'there is joy in the journey, good times in the going.' In all their afflictions He was afflicted, and the Angel of His Presence saved them: in His love and in His pity He redeemed them; and He bare them and He carried them all the days of old. Isaiah 63:9 Afflicted: Troubled, Suffering, Hurt, Tormented, Plagued, Stricken, Aggrieved, Distressed

Guess What I Found

https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEjflVZLrOI7DhqMbAkzbuFV0fpcvm8wT9A5JAlQaeUx9zvshazqgIQRdJDrL6VbcQ9qxPP9L8Gwbz54t82qzp7UA5raL-kW47XES36DYUBHI3U22Hag1y4tr8eghnrvWoUpD9fc95h0b1qlCTn2l1cIiHCd=

Guess what I found on the internet today? No it wasn't in an archeological dig way out in the Middle East somewhere, but it was still fascinating. It was a book. It looked old fashioned in a way and the pictures were kind of blurry, but the cover sure looked antique! I thought the pages would have been more yellow with a parchment-y look, but I guess they are better at preserving things that we figured, eh? Anyway, it was a book called Mary's Diary. WOW! I mean double-wow! Who could have had a more intimate relationship with Jesus, the Son of God, than His own birth mother! Who could have cared more to get the facts right and to portray His life in a as loving a way as possible? And guess what?! It even covers those hidden years of when He was a little boy in Egypt. (He must have been such a cute, sweet little fella.) .
I'm quit bugging you so you can find out for yourself. https://www.createspace.com/4837922
http://www.amazon.com/dp/1511783966
http://www.hollywoodbooktrailers.com/me=image%2F*

How Worthwhile Are We?

I heard a statement that had a profound impact on me. A man from Burkina Faso made it.  

    “If a senior dies it is like a whole library has been destroyed.”

 Many of us are seniors, but are we wise? Are we compassionate and understanding?  How are we filling in the dash between our cradles and the grave? Perhaps you know I am referring to how a gravestone has the date of someone’s birth, a dash, and then the date they passed from this world.

The Bible teaches us that the older women should teach the younger, (Titus 2.4) surely we must have accumulated something worthwhile in our life experiences. Do we have the humility and kindness to help those behind us who are floundering? We all have different ways we can do it.

Are we writing books’ of value with our lives? ‘Only one life will soon be past. Only what’s done for Christ will last.’

Let us pray for each other. 

What Are You Doing in THERE?

               

Someone you admire seems to have the ideal personality. Let’s say she’s sweet, ladylike and oh so soft spoken. What a perfect example. So you try to imitate her. It seems like the perfect mold to build around yourself. First of all it’s time to moderate that rather loud chuckle because it won’t fit into the new image you want to create. What about that quirky sense of humor, tone it down, by all means tone it down, it borders on mischievous if not do down-right rascally: you want to be a lady, remember? And so the building continues. The mold is taking shape.

Is this the real me? Why are people so quiet and reserved, as if they don’t quite know what to expect of me? Am I a nut? Or why am I curling up inside of this nutshell? Help, help let me out! Let me grow, let me be myself!

http://www.authorsden.com/marilynffriesen

Silly White Stuff

“Isn’t it ridiculous picking up this silly white stuff day after day?”

“Shh, you had better be careful what you say. God sent it. Would you rather be eating… eating, well who knows what and dying of thirst like our forefathers practically did before Moses struck the Rock?”

“Yes,” a younger voice piped up, “And he sure got in trouble for doing that. Now he won’t be able to go into the Promised Land.”

“Promised Land,” the first one scoffed. “We’ve been wandering in this desert for nearly twenty years already. Why, you and I and everyone else our age was born after they were shut out of that so called Promised Land.” Dinah huffed as she swung a big basket over her arm. “I’m getting a weeks’ supply of that manna. I’m sick and tired of gathering it every single day just because Mama is so sickly all the time.”

“Go ahead,” her friend Lilka scoffed, “You know what Moses warned us would happen. I’ve heard rumors it has already  in some other areas of ‘tent city’.

Twenty four hours passed. Same time same station as it were, the only difference was facial expressions, mostly, and of course the conversation had changed.

Dinah looked so sullen, or was it subdued, that Lilka and Josiah didn’t dare say a word to her.  They had observed her, from a distance mind you, trying to dispose of a whole week’s supply of moldy wormy manna and trying unsuccessfully not to throw up over the whole repulsive mess.

Dinah learned her lesson, have we to? God simply does not want us to gather too many worries for example. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

Some might wonder if I sit down at the beginning of every month and map out the topics I will be writing about for the next thirty days.

“ Nope, not a chance.”

“ Well, for the next week then?”

“ Uh uh.  Why bother, I want my manna (which comes from Heaven) fresh and new.” Give us our day our daily bread.  

Help! Where Have I Been?

 Help! Where have I been?? I've been feeling like my tires were

spinning in a mud hole while  the tools I needed were in my trunk all along.  So what tools you ask? 

Partridge Exposed!

 I don’t know so terribly much about partridges but suspect they have a lot in common with chickens. Anyone who knows me well knows how fond I am of raising free range hens and selling the eggs. But there is something even more enjoyable than that. It is watching Mama Bird possessively brood over a nest of eggs and patiently wait, with barely any food or water, for those little guys to be mature enough to peck their way out of the shells. Her nurturing instinct doesn’t end there, however, and I love to see how she calls her little brood over to share some food she has discovered. I love even more how they nestle under her wings yet peek out, out of curiosity at the friendly world around them. I have an amusing memory of one ‘teenage’ chick

So This Is Me...

I live and breathe writing, but not just any kind. Penetrating the darkness seems to be a pet theme, or phrase with me. This world is so full of shadows that come in many different shapes and forms. You know what the chains that want to tighten you are, whether they are poverty, fear, pain, heartache in its many kinds, or something else. I have given my life to bringing a ray of light into this dark and hurting world.

Another thought I like is this description of a glowing candle.  It is warm and beckoning with just enough of a glow to be deeply appreciated, but not so much that you feel unhappy with the glare or the heat.

Come in and help yourself to a candle and let's walk together towards Jesus who is the Light of the world.

Lovingly, Marilyn

P.S. I’m not a very conspicuous person: auburn haired, round faced, smiley with gentle eyes and what you might call an old fashioned grandmotherly look.  Because we like people so much we have a bed and breakfast. If you want to visit us you can find it under the listings for air bnb (bed and breakfast) Alberta.