Showing posts with label parents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parents. Show all posts

Thursday, 21 July 2016

The Number One Reason I Wrote It

So what’s really important to you? For me it is, was, and always will be to be a good mother. I think a lot of you can identify with that: being a worthwhile parent is a goal that we long to reach but at times seems unattainable.

So what do we do? We get help. By far my best assistant is the greatest parent of them all, the Heavenly Father. Have you found it so?

But, we still stumble and fall and search for more direction, right? Maybe we even find heroes that we admire. One of my favorites was Mary, the mother of Jesus. I think we all, Protestants, Catholics, Mennonite and Amish, or whatever, agree that she must have been a wonderful mother.

But what made her so special?  I think it was her humility, but had a consuming desire to learn more about her and possibly learn from her example.

So I wrote a book. Perhaps you have heard about it already: Mary’s Diary, Jesus through His Mother’ Eyes. I chose to write it in diary format because it seemed more personal, intimate.

And I prayed about it a lot, too. I really wanted to know how it might have felt to raise the most remarkable Son in the world. I’m telling you it was a real blessing delving into this topic.

Okay, enough for now. I’ll send you a few links so you can check out this book for yourself. I’m praying that, if you are a Mom, Dad, a teenage girl or anyone else looking for inspiration and direction, maybe this book will bless you just like it did me.

Take care!
Marilyn Friesen



https://www.createspace.com/4837922

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Wednesday, 9 March 2016

Better Than a Fairy Tale? Not Yet

A continuation of my spiritual journey.
Thank you Google Images for the wonderful snapshots.
So what happened next? There were many things of course, but what is really important? Eventually Mom and Dad separated and Dad took some of us younger ones to a runty little shack he built himself and we were supposed to start school in a new, far distant area. I was appointed, or rather accepted the job of head cook and clothes washer. With wood heating, which I wasn’t familiar with and inexperience combined, well, let’s just say it was a new experience for me.
I was introduced to a new ‘religion’ also. I wasn’t used to his new way of worshipping which included speaking in tongues that reached a higher and higher crescendo and numerous people walking in and out of the building during services and it made me fearful.
I did a lot of searching and praying during this time. It is still precious to me how God illuminated the Word for a sincere young teenager. I can still clearly remember how various Scriptures came to life for me and I knew He was giving me direction.
While I was holed up with my younger siblings in that out of the way homemade ‘trailer’ I got really sick with Hepatitis which must have lasted at least three weeks. Not a fun time, too be sure, but there was not only a silver lining in the clouds after this happened, but better than that it was like a rainbow in my memory.
It was the fall of the year so the leaves were turning color. One afternoon while I was still weak, but slowly getting better, I went for a walk in the woods and they were graced with natural autumn beauty. This meandering stroll was a time of communing with God. I felt him so close amidst His creation that later I wrote a rather long essay about it. Had I found ‘heaven’ at last? No, but it was another oasis of peace in a troubled lifestyle. I treasure to this day those little touches from God that kept me going.
Mom had found her way back to ‘her own people’ and their quiet, peaceful, loving ways were a drawing to me. I had a cousin my age who reached out to me but when Dad intercepted one of my responses to her there were dire consequences.
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, 


Tuesday, 29 September 2015

Are You Intimidated

Are You Intimidated?


Do you ever feel like kids are brats, and that’s not in the old-fashioned way when brat simply meant child?
Helen Keller was a classic example of a brat, but the most grudging among us would have to admit she had reason to be. She wasn’t born deaf and blind, but got that way from some sort of disease at the age of two.
At first Helen managed quite well. She had a little playmate, the cook’s daughter, who was two or three years older than her. This little girl was quite keen in catching the signals that indicated what Helen wanted to do.
Once when the girls were weary of cutting out paper dolls from a catalogue, Helen got the idea of snipping off Martha Washington’s tight little curls which were tied with string. Well, Martha wanted to return the ‘favor’ but after one long, gold strand was severed, Mama came to the rescue and put a stop to the beauty salon business.
As Helen grew older, her horizons widened, or rather she sensed they should be, but her handicaps were limiting her, and that made her increasingly frustrated. Her temper tantrums were getting so fierce and frequent that her parents were desperate to find help.
That’s when Anne Sullivan came on the scene. She was a young, trained teacher who took on the challenge of teaching an unloving, practically unlovable youngster.
Long before Helen would properly respond to love, Anne traced the letters I L O V E Y O U on her hand.
Is there a child in your life who is a challenge? Jesus can give you a deep, deep compassion for him or her, and more than that the inspiration and courage to make a difference that can last forever.

Please, whether you are a teacher, preacher, parent or some other relative or friend, look at that child through new eyes.  They need you to lead them out of their own maze of ‘deafness and blindness’ so they, too,  can become the treasure God created them to be. 

Monday, 7 September 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.