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

Friday, 26 August 2016

Two Miracles

Today, 8:01 AM

Monday, 15 February 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

Saturday, 5 December 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?

Saturday, 13 December 2014

Saturday, 2 August 2014

African Fruit and Stuff



  • I was told there were three or four stages a missionary who goes through when they come to a place like Africa. I only remember three of them.
  • Honeymoon
  • Horror
  • And Home.
    I wasn't there long enough for it to feel like home, but the first two sure 'smershed' together in my mind in those short two weeks we were there. I love, loved, loved it therein many ways, but oh my, the horror! Let's get into a little more.
Try to picture all the clusters of tin roof shanties surrounded by barren ground on all sides. Not a blooming bush or strip of green grass to soften the village yards. Not a curtain fluttering in any window, or even, at night, the welcoming glow of electric lights. Can you see it? Now let's go inside. See the rooms? One, two, three. One for living, one a bedroom, and the other for storage. Ya, that's a bare dirt floor beneath your feet, and thanks for removing your sandals before entering, that's only courtesy, and we sure don't want to trample all over that bamboo mat where we'll be sitting.
  • I was told there were three or four stages a missionary who goes through when they come to a place like Africa. I only remember three of them.
  • Honeymoon
  • Horror
  • And Home.
    I wasn't there long enough for it to feel like home, but the first two sure 'smershed' together in my mind in those short two weeks we were there. I love, loved, loved it therein many ways, but oh my, the horror! Let's get into a little more.
Try to picture all the clusters of tin roof shanties surrounded by barren ground on all sides. Not a blooming bush or strip of green grass to soften the village yards. Not a curtain fluttering in any window, or even, at night, the welcoming glow of electric lights. Can you see it? Now let's go inside. See the rooms? One, two, three. One for living, one a bedroom, and the other for storage. Ya, that's a bare dirt floor beneath your feet, and thanks for removing your sandals before entering, that's only courtesy, and we sure don't want to trample all over that bamboo mat where we'll be sitting.

Show respect to what they are serving you, and at least try to eat it. Do you know they might be going rather hungry for the rest of the week because they tried to serve you their very best? That white stuff that looks sort of like stiff mashed potatoes is called Masa, or something like that. It's made from white cornmeal, I think. If you catch on quickly you'll be able to made a spoon out of a dab of it to scoop up some of the broth. I didn't quite get the hang of it partly because I didn't know what they were doing.

If you're like me, you'll be feeling sorry for that lively eighteen month old baby that wants so badly to run outside and play. Unfortunately it's not safe out there. Today the cattle are roaming close to the house and even if they weren't, the goats and pigs would not be far off. In some places there would also be small, skinny dogs and scrawny chickens in the picture.

I really liked this couple with the toddler. We went there for a meal, although the spread set before us was fancier than it would have been in many homes. Zach is the interpreter and an interesting story teller as well. I really felt for him though. His father was all swollen up and congested, and lived quite a distance away from his son as well as proper medical facilities. I've wondered often how that poor, old pastor is doing.

Once I thoroughly delighted a few little children who were pretending to make Masa around their tiny cook fire. I asked if I could have some to, and shared pretend food with them. The children are so sweet.

One thing that bothered me since coming home is the assumption that they have bare yards because that is how they have always done it. Sure there is a grain of truth in it, but people like Zach and others, are obviously intelligent enough to realize how much safer it is that way. Think of the fire hazard, especially in areas where there is lots of thatched roofs if they didn't keep their yards clear. It is an ancient custom that goes back thousands of years for a good reason. I don't want to scare you with the thought of snakes and scorpions and other nasty beasties that could hide in tall vegetation, but it sure would be possible!

Oh, back to those three H's. Maybe it did feel more like Home than I realized, because I sure did leave part of my heart there!

Show respect to what they are serving you, and at least try to eat it. Do you know they might be going rather hungry for the rest of the week because they tried to serve you their very best? That white stuff that looks sort of like stiff mashed potatoes is called Masa, or something like that. It's made from white cornmeal, I think. If you catch on quickly you'll be able to made a spoon out of a dab of it to scoop up some of the broth. I didn't quite get the hang of it partly because I didn't know what they were doing.

If you're like me, you'll be feeling sorry for that lively eighteen month old baby that wants so badly to run outside and play. Unfortunately it's not safe out there. Today the cattle are roaming close to the house and even if they weren't, the goats and pigs would not be far off. In some places there would also be small, skinny dogs and scrawny chickens in the picture.

I really liked this couple with the toddler. We went there for a meal, although the spread set before us was fancier than it would have been in many homes. Zach is the interpreter and an interesting story teller as well. I really felt for him though. His father was all swollen up and congested, and lived quite a distance away from his son as well as proper medical facilities. I've wondered often how that poor, old pastor is doing.

Once I thoroughly delighted a few little children who were pretending to make Masa around their tiny cook fire. I asked if I could have some to, and shared pretend food with them. The children are so sweet.

One thing that bothered me since coming home is the assumption that they have bare yards because that is how they have always done it. Sure there is a grain of truth in it, but people like Zach and others, are obviously intelligent enough to realize how much safer it is that way. Think of the fire hazard, especially in areas where there is lots of thatched roofs if they didn't keep their yards clear. It is an ancient custom that goes back thousands of years for a good reason. I don't want to scare you with the thought of snakes and scorpions and other nasty beasties that could hide in tall vegetation, but it sure would be possible!

Oh, back to those three H's. Maybe it did feel more like Home than I realized, because I sure did leave part of my heart there!
P.S. I found out later the third H was Humor. Something we sure can't do without!

Thursday, 24 July 2014

A Hard Nut to Crack

Someone asked 'would you still believe in Christ if you found out He had never existed'. What a hard nut to crack! What a hard nut to crack. All I could do is pray that the warmth of God's convicting power could penetrate the hardness, because a person like that does not appear to be open to the truth. Would you stop believing that you exist just because someone tried to convince you that you were never born, after all you don't remember it! :). To those of us who have learned to know and love Jesus as our Saviour and Friend, the question is totally rediculous and immaterial.

I heard that 50,000 people surge through Heathrow Airport on any given day. But even in that vast multitude someone I had never seen or heard of before zeroed in on me as being a fellow Christian. I never held up a sign announcing my faith but somehow people can tell because we serve a Risen Savior and His spirit dwells within us. We shared for a few minutes about what is most important in our lives. Actually this happened to me twice. I think the other time was in Rye. In the hustle and bustle of life I would never recognise them again, but on the Other Side there will be instant recognition!

P.S. Just this last week I got to talking to strangers, one in a restaurant the other at a cellphone shop. Both were pretty soon sharing with me the important things they were praying about. Did I tell them I was a Christian? Did I tell them I believed in prayer? No, and no. True Christianity is not a dead religion. We serve a Living Saviour and people can tell. Do you know Him? Do you want to find out why we have such a strong faith in Him?marilynfriesen.blogspot.com