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Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts

Tuesday, 30 August 2016

The Afghan and the Mouse



I watched it being made: it was a creation of incredible beauty. There were squares for each of our children and nothing was more precious, more valuable than that afghan:
Our children’s lives.
I loved watching it develop slowly before my wondering eyes. Woven together with prayers and lots of love it would be cherished forever.
But it was marred.
The Master Weaver had me helping. His part was perfect, flawless and beautiful, and when He guided my hands my awkwardness was minimized, His talent shone through.
Although lacking, I still love it.
It is mine, ours; something to be cherished forever. We tried our best but over time damage was revealed: a mouse had chewed holes into the fabric.
I’ll not give up.
It’s still beautiful to me, so precious. I lift it up to show the Master Weaver: Mend it please, could you, please. It took years to create; will it take years to repair?
I’ll wait. And pray.
Lord, use my hands, more patient now from years of grief and experience to help mend. Make us into a soft, comfortable afghan that will bring joy to all.

Marilyn Friesen

Thursday, 10 March 2016

It Will Get Better Than a Fairy Tale

Do you want to hear more of my life story? Tell me if you have any questions or comments.
So what makes something a highlight in our life? How do we decide that this is worth writing about but not that? I, or rather we, started attending an entirely new school in a new part of the province but I missed a lot because, as mentioned earlier, I became ill.
Somehow word got out that we were living in unsavory circumstances and Mom persuaded her brother and brother-in-law to come and get us. When they arrived they asked us if we would like to come along with them.  We were more than willing, but one of the uncles said he had always felt bad about not talking to my father first, but he hadn’t been home.
Without a doubt there would have been a huge row if they had, and we would have ended up staying put.
While reminiscing years later, Mom’s brother commented that I would fearfully look back from time to time, but no, we weren’t being followed.
So now is it better than a fairy tale? Not yet, not, yet, but just hang on. I soon made some dear friends and felt secure in the love of relatives and in the church we were attending, but this ole girl was carrying a lot of baggage with her that caused her to stumble more than once. 

 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, 

Tuesday, 27 January 2015

Veronica 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

Monday, 17 March 2014

Just Pretend to Change



“Claudine, don't be so hard on yourself,” a childhood friend pleaded as she handed her a basket after the guard had left. “Just give lip service to their demands.”