Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts

Thursday, 6 April 2017

Disembodied Voice


I woke up abruptly at 4:28 one 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

Saturday, 14 February 2015

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


Wednesday, 10 December 2014

After Grandma is Buried, We'll Go

The Christmas Story from Mary's Viewpoint
19th  Chisleu
December 15th

Because of one delay after another we were not able to go to the city of David to be taxed as soon as we had planned to. The most tragic is that my Mimi , grandma, went to be with her fathers.

She was so dear to me. I couldn’t bear to leave her when she was so low, but she passed away, so we will sadly depart after the funeral.

This will be all for now, for I want to take one last look at her calm, still face before we follow the bier to the grave site.








20th  Chisleu
December 16th



I am not feeling very brave today even though the stars are
twinkling brightly in the otherwise black, early morning sky. Yosef is
loading Balaam, our donkey.

Somewhere, far, far away in a place called Bethlehem the stars are also shining, I suppose, but the track is so rough and dark between here and there.

There are treacherous mountains just furlongs from the road we must take, and who know what kinds of animals might come prowling around at night.

It will take us many days to get there, and this is happening so close to when the baby is expected to arrive! I have never been far from home except for the
time I went to see Aunt Elisheva, and I dread this journey!

At least this time I will have Yosef with me! What a consolation! My deepest fear is for the Baby because I am so near the end. Oh, if only it would have
worked out to leave earlier! Will He be all right?

I know we will not be traveling alone but that is not much of a
consolation.

Cousin Abigail, who used to be my dearest friend, will be
in the company, but she has been cool and aloof since my condition
was revealed. I will add, however that that is—maybe? easier to handle than the
scathing remarks Shoshoni made to Tamara at the marketplace. I think
she knew I could have heard her!
My sister Hanalei claims Shoshoni has always been jealous of me,
but why? I am not that special! Some have called me sweet and pretty
but she is beautiful and sophisticated! Besides her father is a prosperous
 merchant and we are so poor.



It has been such a trial how the villagers have shunned me the last
while, and whispered behind their hands.

I am so lonely for the merry prattle we aant’ats used to share when we met at the well each morning, but now everyone just falls silent or walks slowly away while
my eyes dolefully follow them. Oh well, it could be so much worse.

For some reason, and I am not sure why, it has not made that great of a difference that Yosef married me. Is it because of Yaakov? I probably shouldn’t have written that, yet I do know that someone is spreading rumors that Yosef is not the father. Obviously I am too far along for it to have happened since we were betrothed…

“They” have been saying that I was overtaken by a Roman soldier. They do ravage careless maidens at will especially while in a drunken stupor.

Of course that is so impossible! My parents would never let their daughters be alone if they had to be out at night!

My aleichem(neighbors), could be making cutting remarks to my face but most of them don’t.

 I mentioned Shoshoni, but really most of them don’t say so very much . . . in my presence, at least. Sometimes I fear that the Little One I care about so deeply may have to suffer much worse persecution than I, and oh how I yearn to protect Him!

Why do such thoughts come to me? Most people are confident  that the Mashiach will be a glorious King and will rule with a scepter of gold. If that is the whole
truth, why would a poor talitha like me be asked to be His mother?
It is confusing. I am so inadequate for such a privilege, and awesome
responsibility!

I wish Imma could come along to Bethlehem. It would be such a
comfort. But, on the other hand, maybe it is better that she is not able.
She tends to worry so.

“Be sure to keep warm, and do not let yourself get too tired.”
           
She has told me that countless times, or so it seems. How can I
keep from getting tired? I am worn out already, and we have not even
begun! Imma is scurrying towards me with a nicely wrapped parcel of
food for the journey. I really must go assist her.