From Victim to Victor

Based on a true story.

Pete, Joe and Mike openly mocked when Stan came into their hospital ward.

                “Hey, Doug,” Joe called. “Yer old man is here. Do you think he’s gonna preach a sermon today?”

                Doug glowered towards the door, but dropped his eyes when Stan appeared.

                He muttered a few curses but managed to add “Hi, Dad,” when the tall, thin man sat down stiffly beside him.

                Doug sighed inwardly: another hour of enduring his father’s obvious discomfort with how his fellow Aids patients acted up. He knew without a doubt their actions were more unnatural, their language filthier when he came around.

                Doug sighed, again.  Why couldn’t he just bug off?  Just because I’m his son and dying of this creepy disease is no reason for him to stick around.

                “You, okay, son?”

                “Same as usual: no better, no worse,” he lied, although he knew perfectly well his life was ebbing out of him.

                “Is there anything I can do to help?” Stan sat with his hands tightly folded on his lap and Doug, as well as several others took note of the look of revulsion on his features.

Ya, Doug thought, just once you can get that awful nauseated look off your face and treat me like a human.

  What he didn’t know, however, was how desperately Stan was praying for compassion, for understanding towards these people.

                But one day Stan was different. He was still quiet and dignified, but he spoke to them with respect, and by name! He ever shook their hands when he greeted them.  The assortment of men viewed him with wary surprise.

                Stan continued to visit his son on a daily basis, and the men sensed that Stan was different, that he really did care about them. First one then another responded to the obvious love they felt from him, and some even started unburdening their hearts.

                It was a happy day when Doug, who had always been a wayward boy, broke down and confessed a fear of dying.

                “Dad,” he wept, “I need Jesus, but I’m so afraid He won’t accept me because I have sinned so badly."

                While the others listened in, Stan convinced his son that it was for people such as Doug that Jesus had laid down His life.

                Doug made such a complete change, and was so obviously at peace with God and man after he confessed his sins, that no one tried to dissuade him.  It was considered unusual how peacefully he died under the circumstances.

                Both the hospital staff and the patients were deeply impressed with the caring Stan showed, but Jesus helped him.

Guess What I Found!

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

Should I Do Something That Outlandish? (Update Included!!)

Dear Diary 
I am so frightened. Someone saw my diary scrolls and wants to get them distributed. 
They are from a strange, far away place and are asking to stick them on the Internet and do other queer things with them. 
Did I even spell that odd word right? I have NO idea what they are talking about. 
Oh I wish Jesus was here so I could ask His advice, but He floated up to Heaven in a cloud. 

But…on the other hand, it was such a wonderful, yet often terrifying experience raising Jesus from a little boy and watching Him develop into a strong caring Man. He brought joy, healing and peace to so many people and yet they killed Him in the most awful way imaginable!Maybe I should let those strangers do whatever they think is best with my scrolls. It would be so nice if others could know how wonderful He really is. I sure hope no one in our village finds out, though, that I did something so outlandish! They'd never understand what happened to me. 
Love, Mary

This book will be available from Amazon, CreateSpace and elsewhere soon. You can get th ebook from Hollywood Book Trailers. 
www.hollywoodbooktrailers.com https://www.createspace.com/4837922 Did you see that last link? The book is NOW available, also!   Wow, finally!!

If you don't have time to sit down with a good book how about downloading a copy on to your Kindle and you can read it whereever you go. (Nice escape from the modern world!) If you don't have

The Internet? What's That?

Okay, I know the "powers that be" won't allow me to use this on the back of my book Mary's Diary of Jesus' Life, but it was fun writing it, so I'll share it would you. Enjoy!

Dear Diary

I am soo frightened. Someone got hold of my diary scrolls and wants to get them distributed.

 They are from a strange, far away place and are asking to stick them on the internet and do other queer things with them.

 Did I even spell that odd word right? I have NO clue what they are talking about.

 Oh I wish Joseph was here so I could ask his advice, or better yet, Jesus, but He floated up to Heaven in a cloud.

But…on the other hand, it was such a wonderful experience raising Jesus from a little boy and watching Him develop into a strong caring Man who brought joy, healing and peace to so many people.Maybe I should let those strangers do whatever they think is best with my scrolls I sure hope no one in our village finds out that I did something so outlandish!

Love, Mary

Some People Deserve to Die--And Some Don't

 Back in 1908, or so, (yes, that was before my time,) something happened that touched my heart. Someone did something awful, really, really awful and he killed another human being. He deserves to be condemned to death, right? But his attorney saw things differently. I think he must have visited with this prisoner many times, and became convinced the man deeply regretted what he had done. Most likely the guilty man didn’t give a whole list of excuses why he committed that horrendous act. He knew he was a sinner, and his advocate knew that he knew so he pled his cause.

In those days the man probably didn’t have a hope or not being hung from a tree or whatever means of punishment they used in his area, so it came to him as a surprise when the verdict was changed to a life sentence.  There were tears of gratitude in his eyes when he was led away.

I wish I could fill in the names of the key characters, my written source had not included them, but let’s put our own names into the blank.

We have been condemned to die, we are guilty. Our sin separates as from God. We can offer a multitude of excuses why we are like we are, but they won’t get us anywhere, certainly not to Heaven. An advocate came, and plead our cause. Perhaps it was because of His deep sacrificial love-I’m talking about Jesus now- we began to feel remorse then repentant. Yes, we admit, we deserve to die, but we are sorry, very sorry. The death sentence is lifted.

Do we run away scot free? Do we want to? Not if we truly realize what Jesus saved us from. In gratitude we will offer to be bond slaves to Jesus. It’s a whole lot easier than to be imprisoned by guilt and sin. It’s a whole lot easier in another way also. There is warmth and joy in such close fellowship.

What do you choose?

http://www.authorsden.com/marilynffriesen

Take Down That Wall

Sometimes we encounter relationships that are challenging at the best of times. The world would say walk away from them but that is not God’s solution. Those people whom we find difficult may very well think the problem lies with us. We must do our level best to show compassion and try to work through our differences. If we preserve in prayer God can help us take that wall down one brick at a time. Marilyn Friesen

Marilyn Friesen

An Imaginary Visit With Jesus

Today I want to share a poem with you that I wrote many years ago. Hopefully it will be an encouragement to young mothers all around the earth.

Sometimes I get to sighing

And wish that I could see

The Savior come a-knocking

To spend the day with me.

Wake Up and Smell the Coffee

 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? 

He said, "I Don't Believe in God"

My dear friend,

You declared recently that you don’t believe in God, anymore.

So What's the Use of a Broken Mirror?

So what is the meaning of life? Silly question, eh? Alexandros Papaderos' students certainly thought so when one of their colleagues popped the question. But their teacher didn't.

The First Christmas Has Arrived!

Festival of lights

25^th  Kislev

December 9^th

He’s come! Yehoshua has come! I cannot begin to express my

gratitude, and adoration! What a privilege it is to be the first one to

hold the treasured Son of God. Oh dear, tears are running down my

face again! He is so precious. I just can’t say it enough. It tugs at my

heart strings when I see how incredibly tiny and helpless He, the Son

of El’Shaddai, is.

Christmas From Mary's Viewpoint

I dumped way too many pages on all you busy people last time, but I hope this will be more manageable.  The pages are crowded together, not like they’d be in the book to make it more compact.  Enjoy!

14^th Sivan

June 4^th

Yosef has not warmly greeted me for many days. I might as well say

it like it really is; we haven’t even exchanged more than two words. He

is polite, but I have seen him treat strangers with more cordiality than

he has bestowed on me! I feel ill with despair.

15^th  Sivan

Somehow, something, must have leaked out at home, because my younger

sisters don’t treat me so sweetly any more. Dorcas and Naomi give me

troubled looks as if they cannot quite understand what has changed

with me. They are not as spontaneous with their hugs as in former days,

or am I just imagining it?

Hanalei and I used to be as close as burrs in sheep’s wool but now she is somewhat reserved in my presence.

 Imma had thought she was old enough to share in our secret, but from the way she is acting we wonder. Perhaps Hana is concerned about how her friends will react when they find out her older sister is expecting a riba, (child), before the wedding. 

Maybe she is afraid this will lessen her own chances of finding a nice, respectable husband. She had been telling me how much she admires Caleb bar-Reuven, for some time now.

Dear old Abba has been quiet and unsmiling  since our discussion.

I wonder so often what he is really thinking. I wish he would not

council with Yaakov so much since Yosef’s father is so perturbed with me.

Now that Father is so distant, Imma waits until he is out of the

house to show her loving sympathy. It is then that the tears, the soothing

healing tears, flow freely, and we can talk.

Naturally Imma does not feel ill as I do, so she is still quite optimistic

about it all. I know she does not consider my story a fantasy like Abba,

Yosef and his family appear to.

What would I do without my mother to lean on; to comfort me? Imma is touched that a daughter of hers would be considered worthy to be the mother of the son of  Adonai , our Almighty God, but is deeply concerned that Yosef is considering getting divorce papers written out.

Isn’t it strange that two such conflicting emotions can dwell in the same heart?

Being thrilled yet at the same time deeply concerned seem so opposite from each other.

 Imma feels for me, and I am glad she is praying that things will work out somehow.

We have whispered together about how dreadful it would be to be identified as an unwed mother. I do not believe Yosef would ever have me stoned, but would

not the stony disapproval of our community be almost harder to bear?

I know that every day I am growing a little rounder, and someday the

sacred secret will be revealed. But unfortunately, or is it fortunately, I

will be far away by then, for Abba insists that I must go, and for who knows how long?

2^nd Tammuz

June 22^nd

We have arrived at Zechariah’s home. The trip was long and

tiresome, but not as dreadful as I feared.

Zechariah’s stone house is situated in a serenely beautiful valley.

It is a spacious dwelling with many archways and pillars.

It even has marble floors. That is such a contrast to our own dirt floor! Oh, well, I love our little home just as much, if not more, because that’s where my family dwells.

I was so enthralled with the cooling fountain in their courtyard, though, as

well as all the exotic flowers and plants surrounding it. It was such a

refreshing change after trudging through the wilderness for so long.

It is very strange to have a room all to myself, and such a soft, high

bed! Yet I will miss having my sisters snuggling down close beside me.

What a blessing it was to be enfolded in Elisheva’s warm embrace!

She seemed so happy to see me. It was like an unexpectedly warm and

balmy breeze in frigid weather.

We had such a meaningful visit right after I arrived that I did not even remember how exhausted I had been feeling ’til a long time later.

To my amazement she knew immediately that I was carrying Yahweh’s son. The baby leaped within her, and then do you know what?—Elisheva started to prophecy like the patriarchs of old! I have never heard anyone do that before!

It thrilled me right to my toes when she said, nay, almost shouted

“Mary’am, you are very blessed among women! The baby you are

carrying is very blessed indeed! How can I be so fortunate that the

mother of our Lord would come, and visit me? As soon as you called

out, the babe knew who you were, and leaped within me!”

What a shiver of awe ran down my back!

She told me I would be blessed for believing. Can you imagine the comfort that was after the despondent atmosphere at home? She also reminded me that all that

the angel told me would come true.

Perhaps if Abba could have heard her faith, and enthusiastic response to my pregnancy, he would have believed, also.

It filled me with such a deep joy to know that Jehovah has regarded

the low estate of me, His quiet, unassuming talitha, that I clasped my

hands in wonder, and magnified His Holy Name.

Future generations will call me Banoah, (blessed),  and indeed they are surely right. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of aant’at would gladly trade places with me.

 The Mighty One has done marvelous things; holy is His name!

 Somehow I sense that when He reigns, He will not only show mercy to those our generation that fear him, but will extend mercy for generations come! I cannot comprehend it! It is so amazing!

Under His guidance, I just know that wrongs will be righted, those that we call powerful will be of no more value than the poor in spirit; the hungry will be satisfied, but the rich will go away empty.

How can I know these things? I simply don’t know. It does seem like a spirit of prophecy descended upon me also, and I am eagerly waiting to see what it means.

 As you may well know, my despondency has been lifted up, carried away on wings of joy!

I just know these are going to be pleasant, meaningful months

helping Elisheva. I am really looking forward to it! Surely we will have many inspirational visits. I really need them to help me to grow into the role Adonai, ordained for me.

Pre Christmas peek into the Virgin Mary's Diary

My thoughts have been soaring heavenward with a yearning to be

one with HaShem especially today because the sky shone like shining

molten gold. The whole atmosphere seemed to be hushed as if it is

standing on tiptoe in the Shekinah of Adonai, (the glorious presence of

the Lord of Lords.) Many furlongs away the Sea of Galilee is rippling under this same

glorious sunset. If it reminds me so much of Paradise here, what must

it look like over the waves?

I was lingering near our almond tree, which is shrouded with a

thousand pink and white flowers. Over my arm hung a basket filled with herbs since I had just finished gathering them from our dew-scented garden when a dazzling dove

swept by catching my attention. She was such a bright contrast to the beautiful horizon. As I gazed upon her, I wondered if perchance this would be the time I would see where her little fledglings were hidden. I have been intently watching her for some time now.

I was also enjoying the fresh, invigorating breeze against my cheeks. It was sweetly scented with the fragrance of a million early flowers.

Then a Voice seemed to float towards me. I do not know how

else to describe it. I looked around but saw no one. There was such a

quietness, and calmness in the twilight stillness that I was not afraid;

just mildly curious. While my eyes swept the glowing sky and dewy

green landscape a marvelous Being appeared. He seemed to materialize

out of thin air, but for some reason I was pleasantly intrigued rather

than terrified. Then in angelic tones, this glorious creature, who was arrayed in

raiment that dazzled like snow, spoke to me.

“Hail, you are highly favored, the Lord is with you: you are blessed among woman.”

I had been gazing rapturously upon him but these words made me

feel uneasy so lowered my eyes. How could someone such as I be highly

favored? Surely my thoughts have become too lofty, and El’ Shaddai was

about to rebuke me. He knows how deeply I have longed to mother his

Son. Perhaps that was rash and foolish for talitha as lowly as I.

“Fear not Mary’am:” he said gently, “for you have found favor

with God.”

My hand pressed against my throat. “Me?” I breathed.

He nodded, and not only his face but his whole being glowed with a

radiance that could only be described as celestial. Although I was in

the presence of one of the angels of El’ Shaddai, for some reason I felt

serene, and more composed than I have ever felt before. It was almost

like I had been lifted to a hallowed plane. The cares and burdens of life

had fallen away, as if I had shed them for a time, like waterfowl sheds

water. After a momentous pause, he continued.

“Listen! You are going to conceive, and give birth to a Son, and

shall call His name Yeshua. He shall be great, and shall be called the

Son of the Highest: and the Lord God shall give unto Him the throne

of His father David. He shall reign over the house of Yaakov, (Jacob),

forever: and of His kingdom there shall be no end.”

“Excuse me, sir,” I raised my eyes to shyly meet his gaze,

“But how can this be, since I am a virgin, and know not a man?”

“The Holy Ghost shall come upon you, and the power of the

Highest shall overshadow you: therefore also that holy thing that shall

be born of you shall be called the Son of  Adonai.

A tremble shook my body at these majestic words, and I think my

face must have gone ashen. It was more than I could comprehend.

Carry the Son of God! That was my heart’s desire! Something I had longed for more intensely even than to be married

to my Chavivi, (beloved.) My knees felt weak. Surely something so

holy and glorious could not be happening to such an insignificant

handmaiden of the Lord. I must be dreaming!

The serenely glowing face of the angel came back into focus once

again, and when he spoke it was in a gentle, soothing voice about things

that were at least a little more ordinary.

“I have more good news for you! Your relative, Elisheva, (Elisabeth,) is carrying a

son in her old age, and this is the sixth month with her, who was

called infertile.”

I gazed at him in awe, open-mouthed but speechless. Elisheva ? A tremble shook my body at these majestic words, and I think my face must have gone ashen. It was more than I could comprehend. Elisheva was my favorite aunt! How wonderful! How very, very wonderful! Won’t Imma be delighted when she finds out? She always felt so sorry for her eldest sister because she never knew the joys of motherhood!

He beamed. “With God nothing shall be impossible!”

I sank to my knees and with clasped hands, replied in a hushed voice.

“Behold the talitha of the Lord: be it unto me according to your word.”

  While I watched wonderingly, the angel’s feet rose from the ground,

his magnificent wings spread out, and I saw him gradually rise higher,

and higher, until he flew out of my sight.

After he was gone, an Invisible but very hallowed sense of Shekinah surrounded me. Never have I had such profound love, such happiness, and complete tranquility permeate my being as it did at that moment. It must have been a foretaste of the

joys of Paradise.

Although the sensation faded, I am certain that HaShem’ touched me in a very profound, and personal way. I cannot express what He has done for, and to me. When He left I quietly murmured

“Alleluia El ohim Yisrael!”

Shortly after this experience the evening sun set and the sky grew

dark quickly. The night air was laden with the perfume of roses, and

the sky was brilliant with stars. There were so many stars that it seemed

like there were surely symbolic messages of great portent written in the

sky that only the learned could read.

I slipped into the house for this little scroll, my reed pen, and a small clay lamp. I am now sitting on a large flat rock near the lovely

almond tree trying to write with the aid of the stars, and the lamp’s

flickering glow.

“Holy, holy, holy,” I breathed, loath to leave this sacred place, yet

knowing the hour was growing late.

I seemed to have been wrapped in an aura of other—worldliness for

the rest of the evening.

When I wandered back into the house, Imma, (mother), was busy chopping up vegetables for a stew. Soon the aroma of simmering onions permeated the air.

My sister Hana came in from milking the goats, and handed me the milk which I absentmindedly strained through cheese cloth into another container.

The hum of voices ebbed, and flowed around me, but I hardly noticed.

Abba,  (father,) came in, and after washing up said the Banoah,

(blessing). After he was finished eating the rest of us gathered around

the table.

“You are quiet tonight,” Imma observed. Her voice barely registered.

“Mary’am.” Abba’s hand was poised above the scroll he was reaching

for. I looked up when he spoke my name. “Your mother spoke to you.”

“I’m sorry, Imma dear. Did you want something?”

“I just remarked at how quiet you have been since coming in.”

My cheeks felt like they were growing warm so I looked down,

and dipped a sop into the common bowl.

 “I’m feeling . . . thoughtful, tonight.”

Abba and Imma exchanged a quizzical look, but I didn’t feel like I

couldn’t explain anything, not yet.

It is hard for me to grasp the magnitude of what actually happened just a few short hours ago, harder perhaps because everything else in

my small world continues in just the same down-to-earth way it always

had.

I hope people can comprehend that it is not that I am so special.

It is what HaShem is going to do through me. I am just a poor earthen

vessel.