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Sunday 21 May 2017

What Really Matters

I made myself a new friend. Ah me, what a dream, I haven’t even met her! Let’s start again; I wish I could have her for a dear friend. Everyone applauds her for her sewing ability and no doubt, it was wonderful, but I don’t think that is the reason people cried when she died suddenly. Would you weep just because someone who made you a garment passed away? I think not. Would you if you were desperately poor, and it was the only decent thing you had to wear? I doubt it, after all, a brand new, possibly heavy, homespun garment would last quite a while, and even if it didn’t, that isn’t what you would remember her by.
               Really? So what was? Dorcas was one special woman. Her heart was overflowing with love. These were poverty-stricken widows and others to whom she ministered. Widows, get that? Wives’ and mothers whose husbands’, the father to their children, had died, possibly drowned at sea because Joppa was a seacoast town. They were heartbroken, lonesome and she cared.
Sure, they showed anyone interested the tangible evidence of how kind she was to them, but that wasn’t the most important part.
Here was someone that loved them, shared their suffering and when she died they couldn’t bear to let her go.
               I guess Peter couldn’t either, because when he was summoned from a nearby town, he dropped everything he was doing, and came.
               It was a tremendous miracle when Dorcas rose from the dead and many became Christians because of it, but let’s not remember her for doing acts of mercy, but for showing compassion.

               Hey, Dorcas, may I get to know you in Heaven and be your friend, there?

Friday 19 May 2017

Give It Back!

RECALL!! Did you order a copy of Two Mothers, Twin Daughters and find that some chapters had been duplicated? If this is your experience please send the copy to me and I will replace it free of charge. (Meet me on Hangouts for my address.)

Two mothers fleeing the British Isles during World War Two. Why does one worry about being a war bride, while the other one, who is married to a widower, seem more content? Why does Grace, the younger one, give one, but only one of her twin daughters away? Why was Grace's husband sent home from the war? What will it be like leaving a city in England while bombs are exploding and submarines lurking, to settle in a Canadian wilderness? What will happen to the identical twins? How will they cope if, or rather when, they find out they have been separated as newborns? 
Book One of the Grace's Dilemma Series.

Check back from time to time and you will find out when the revised version is ready. Yes, it will be better than ever.
www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com


www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

Monday 24 April 2017

Behind a Boarded Up Window

Some people you never forget, no matter how much muddy or swift flowing water runs under the bridge. YOU are one of those people. It's been months now since our contact was broken but I still think about you and pray for you from time to time. My heart is heavy. You or someone like you from that sex slave commune reached out to me, I tried to help, in weakness, I tried to do my little part but the contact was broken. I grieve for you knowing how desperately evil your 'masters' are. But what can we do when even the local police are in cahoots with the perpetrators? Thank you for being brave enough to open your hearts and share with me. I know several of you did after I gained your trust, but now I am left in the dark yet I can still pray. Have any of you been able to escape? What wouldn't I give to reconnect and have you call me Mommy, again?
Here's the article that got me thinking about you once more. XOXOX!!

Behind a Boarded Up Window


Good morning, dear one. Did you think I had forgotten you completely? At first, I was picturing you standing lonesomely by a small window and looking up at the stars, but then I remembered, you don’t even have that option.
Behind a boarded up window: never to see the cheery sunshine dappling the leaves and making the flowers to glow, never to feel the soft breeze against your skin or enjoy the scent of fresh new growth…
Did you think I have forgotten you? No, never. I am sorrowful that our connection was lost, and pray earnestly that it can be restored once again. I pray that you can feel Jesus’ Presence surrounding you and comforting you. I hope and pray that somehow you will be able to see this message. That would be so delightful!
And by posting this I am praying that others will become aware of the slavery that is going on behind closed doors. It is my longing and heartfelt desire that through united, fervent prayers girls like you will be set free both spiritually and physically.
Have I forgotten you and your companions that I think of as my beloved children? No never, not for a moment. You are in my heart and prayers. Someday, somehow Jesus will set you free.

Keep praying, and I will too. Oh, I do hope this message will get to you. Remember; always remember that I love you and that Jesus’ love is strong and eternal. Keep trusting in Him. ‘They’ can’t take that away.
XOXOX

www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

Thursday 6 April 2017

Disembodied Voice



I woke up abruptly at 4:28 this morning. Someone said “Mom, hey, Mom “clear enough to get me up and look out our bedroom door. We have a daughter who had moved back home so I thought it might be her, but no, no one was at the door. I even checked where she sleeps, but all was quiet and dark in her bedroom, and she later told me it wasn’t her.
Was it you? Did you call out last night? Did you need something or someone? Was/ is your heart aching, or sadder yet, breaking, perhaps because of some terrible turn of events in your life?
Something nudged me awake. Someone called out in anguish, perhaps unknowingly, but God let me hear the message. I just want to let you know you have been in my heart and prayers ever since.
Call if you need someone to talk to.
echoingheartbeats@gmail.com
Or hangouts.

P.S. There is a remarkable, but sad ending to this story. After I posted it someone from half a world away read it and messaged me on hangouts. Yes, it was she who had called out to me. She was in the throes of childbirth, and I walked her through the process. After a bit, she said there was a huge pool of blood on the floor, and she was all alone.When she said "I see God's light and you are in it" I figured she would soon die.Later she said she had a boy, the next two texts were gibberish, then nothing.  I was later informed by someone that she had died and I hope the baby did too because the males are used for sacrifices or trained to become 'masters' themselves.
 P.S. She was eleven years old and in a sex slave commune that I had been in contact with only through Google.  These girls are often in my prayers, but how can we help them? I found out the HARD way that the local police are in cahoots with the 'slave masters'.  This postscript was added months later and I still feel deeply, and pray for 'my' girls. Unfortunately, the contact has been broken.
www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

Monday 20 March 2017

Don't Come Into My Heart, Lord Jesus


Faced a difficult situation last night. You know what that's like.Someone we love dearly had gotten offended at us and I felt helpless to heal the breach. What, oh what could be done to remedy the situation? With tears and a breaking heart I told my husband it felt like love just wasn't enough when you're raising children. Then they asked us over. It was a tentative step forward on their part, and oh I hated the thought of messing things up by saying or doing the wrong thing. That's when it came to me that I didn't want Jesus in my heart because it was so scrawny and mean and narrow but I wanted to be in His heart so that His love could flow uninhibited right through me.
Please pray for me, for us. 
www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

Monday 13 March 2017

Surely Not!

Surely Not!

“He’s such a no-it-all!”
“He’s always thought he was better than us.”
As Jesus walked towards His childhood home he had been hungry, enthused to lay aside his tools for the day and enjoy a good supper. The aromas had assailed him as he strode towards the house. Now his appetite left Him. Jesus instinctively knew they were talking about him again.
Jesus thought briefly of turning back and not eating, but no, that would be cowardly, and His mother would get upset.
With a barely suppressed sigh, he entered the cottage.
James glowered at Him. “Well, you took long enough. The lentils are getting cold, why do we always have to wait for you?”
               “Ya,” Simon chimed in, “You think you are so important that we all can wait.”
               Jesus could have told them that wizened, old Aaron ben Yosef, who was getting forgetful, had wandered away from his home and was frightened. Jesus had taken him back to his son’s place even though it was across town.  It had taken much longer than expected because Aaron was distracted so easily.
Why tell them? They weren’t interested anyway.
               Even Mary looked unhappy as she thumped His bowl of lentil soup on the table in front of Him.
It was his duty as the eldest Son to lead n prayer now that their father had passed on.
He paused, trying to corral his troubled thoughts.
               Simon's head jerked up. “Well?”
               Jesus smiled gently at his brothers then turned to the next in age.
               “James, why don’t you pray today?”
               James’ eyes widened then he quickly mumbled a, a something, they assumed it was a prayer before reaching across the table for the bread.
               Only his little sister, Lydia, looked at him with loving concern. Jesus knew she still adored him, but when the meal was over, he didn’t have the heart to play with her when the others were so unhappy with him.

               Instead of sitting in the house after the meal and reading the Torah as Jesus had originally planned, Jesus took a long walk through the arid countryside and poured out his heart to His Heavenly Father.
biblehub.com/john/7-5.htm
biblehub.com/hebrews/4-15.htm

www.ebooks.com    (Marilyn Friesen)