Tuesday 19 September 2017

Who Will Help Us With Our Problems?

It was a super-nice day and a Sunday afternoon, besides, which meant time to do something fun and relaxing. What should it be? Both hubby and I agreed that it would be great to take a walk in the park, so what if the city was 45 km. away.
 Now I have this real special dog. Some of you will remember Kasa as a cute small white puppy however she did some growing since then, but of course I wanted her along. With the help of a nice blue tarp for the back of the vehicle, she happily came for the ride.
 Right from the beginning things didn’t go quite as expected. First of all Kasa, who is an overgrown puppy is used to our boring country roads and would walk sedately enough, but these new trails with wonderful strangers to greet and especially all those dogs to make friends with, oh boy oh boy, was she ever excited! I quickly handed the leash over to Stephen, this super enthused ‘pal’ was a lot more than I could handle.
Diversion number two: A friend we hadn’t visited with much for several years because he lived elsewhere, stepped up to us. “Can I walk with you?” Sure, of course.
 Problem number two. The first one was a too rambunctious dog, you got that, right? Well now it was two men that had strong long strides that I could hardly keep up with. I was panting slightly on the inclines, but didn’t say much because my inherited blood pressure problem could use a workout, right. Right? Just as a side note, my B.P. had dropped to the normal range by the next morning. Yippee! Even my pills hadn’t coaxed it to do that.
 Hmm, problems weren’t over, though. On the way home, the car sputtered and died. My better half filled the rad with water but that didn’t help for long. So there we sat with the hood up, wondering what to do. Pretty soon a friend came cruising along with his family on the way to evening church. Sure, he would give us a ride home. There was even a place for the mutt behind the back seat of that roomy SUV. We joked about her sitting on the laps of the teenage girls on the back seat who were all dressed up in their Sunday best.
We got home in time to listen to the inspiring service over the phone and just as the last song was being sung a neighbour called.
  “Was that your car I saw beside the road?” Well, to make a long story short that friendly neighbour helped to haul it home.
  So did you read between the lines? Who will help us with our problems? God will. He doesn’t always give us such immediate or fun solutions, but often enough that we know He is in control so I’m gonna just keep trusting Him.  

Wednesday 13 September 2017

Am I Still in One Piece?


Who knows, I haven’t had time to check. The children arrived like a flood of enthusiasm and mischief, and no, I can’t keep track of all they got into, but soon my head was whirling. They are good kids, don’t get me wrong; among the sweetest on the planet, but oh my, what a lot of inquisitiveness. It didn’t help of course that we hadn’t seen each other for a while.
Now, what did all happen? Besides jumping on the bed and trail mix scattered on the floor, and clods of dirt being playfully thrown in my direction while I was working in the garden?  Oh, yes, there was also a one-man army with a water gun spraying his defenseless sisters … 
What was it that made this day so memorable?
Oh, I know: when the six-year-old gets off the bus and flies across the yard, arms opened wide for a Gramma sized hug. When three little children all want to crowd on my lap at once: that’s what I remember the most.


Oh, yes, I am  in one piece and the smile still lingers…www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

Monday 11 September 2017

Fluttering About

Hey, I'm back! I like to think that someone noticed that I haven't written for a while. Maybe they even thought I had died or something??? Nope, nothing like that happened although flying away to Glory would have been a whole lot of fun. Well, maybe. I hate to think of the tears streaming down the grandchildren's faces that Grammie went so soon. Well, I think we are all satisfied that I am still here, tapping away at my little ole laptop, but I did have a metamorphosis kinda. I wondered if I'd be able to spell that word. I'm -thankful for auto correct. Well sometimes. On my phone it gives me pretty goofy suggestions-object!!



Okay, okay back to the topic at hand. I was and was not all wrapped up in a cocoon for the last few months. I was hidden away from the blogging world, yes, but on the other hand my butterfly wings were getting a real workout. Summer is such a fun time out here on our acreage, and this year is was more lively than ever with having to juggle three balls, gardening, babysitting and hosting guests in our bed and breakfast.

I thought sadly that writing was going by the way side, but why should it? I have more than ever to write about. Don't I? 

Tuesday 20 June 2017

Tears in Heaven


Heaven is supposed to be a happy place but seems to me the luster had dimmed somewhat that day long ago, and the sparkle had gone out of the eyes of the ones circled around the throne.   Ten thousand angels with drooping wings were pleading with Jesus.

               “Don’t go, please don’t go. You’ll meet with suffering and persecution down there.”
               “They’ll never appreciate you as much as we do.”
               “Jesus, You told us yourself that You’ll be crucified. That is so unfair, so unjust! Surely there is another way.”
               Then Jesus met His Father’s love-filled eyes and the power in that beam caused the voices around Him to become like an indistinct murmur.
               “I’ll do anything for you, Father, absolutely anything,” He communicated wordlessly just as His Father knew He would.
               Jesus had died and rose again, as predicted, He had suffered scorn and reproach, been spat upon, beaten and His crucifixion was more brutal than any before or since because He carried your sins and mine to the cross with Him.
               Just as He knew would happen, the scorn and rejection did not vanish with the resurrection, but He had left the peace and joy in Heaven for our sakes, not His. 
               Saul was a particularly zealous enemy of Christ, and while still a young man, took care of the coats of those who were deliberately hurling stones at a follower of Jesus to kill Him.

               That was only the beginning of Saul’s evil campaign; later on, he marched off to Damascus with the intention of irradiating as many Christians as possible. However, the Heavenly Father loved that fiercely determined young man. He saw that he was sincere—but mistakenActs 9 NKJV - The Damascus Road: Saul Converted - Bible Gateway

            
   Things changed radically for Saul. Even his name was changed, and the newly converted Paul worked tirelessly for the new Master whom he adored.
               Adored, you say? Isn’t this the same man who was bound and determined to go to Jerusalem even though he had been warned repeatedly that he would face bonds and imprisonment there? https://www.google.ca/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwjxsKrUrszUAhUHx2MKHYFgDQAQFggoMAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fbiblehub.com%2Facts%2F21-11.htm&usg=AFQjCNG_6wSo-X2XC7zTiyM0mnbMKhNcGg&sig2=w87sfmwbYFGDv56rGWxTLQ biblehub.com/acts/20-23.htm  Wasn’t he being a stubborn old codger to go against the advice of so many of  brothers and sisters in Christ? I don’t think so. Take note of how much the fellow believers loved him, how they wept over him, and eagerly hung on to his every word even long into the night.
               Remember how he persecuted the church? Here was a man who, in worshipful adoration, was trying to make amends. Here was someone who was so grateful he would do anything for the One who had came down from Heaven to rescue him.

            Do you remember how the angels may have pleaded with Jesus not to go but He went anyway?  Few of us have been asked to sacrifice as much as Paul was, but he caught the vison of what Jesus had done for Him and couldn’t do enough in return. 

Thursday 1 June 2017

What Do You Have to Offer

Don’t be ashamed of your past, don’t be ashamed because your skin is darker than mine—I’m not white either, but peaches and cream!
               The white race should collectively hang their heads if they think they are superior. We are historically known for being assertive and materialist, for getting things done, but is that really what counts?
               You have traditions, gentler customs than we are known for, and it brings tears to my eyes and I’m not the weepy type. Some of you come from cultures that deeply respect your elders, may God bless you.  When so many from the same area are sweet and mannerly, I know it’s more than just a coincidence.
               Okay, it’s time to get more specific. I was reading Chicken Soup for the Mother’s Soul Book 2 just now and these Native American’s girls had the custom of spending one day alone, each month, during their menstrual cycle to contemplate on what kind of person they wanted to become. Was that part of your lineage? Just imagine the quality of character that could develop from taking the time to prayerfully meditate beginning in your formative years and continuing throughout life.
               Now, let’s go way across the ocean, to the other side of the world, and learn about a different group of women. These wonderful African ladies obviously valued children highly: well before the child was born, even before conception had taken place, they would go off alone to listen to the song of the infant they hoped to carry.  All throughout the pregnancy, they will sing this song, and teach it to the old women and midwives in the village. At birth, the child is greeted by ‘their’ song and soon all the village learns it so that at every high point, or time of distress, it is being sung to the growing child and later adult.
Doesn’t that sound so peaceful and loving? Doesn’t it seem like a beautiful way to knit family members, a village, together? I only wish I knew more details about these wonderful people, where they came from, what their names were, and so on.
               Lift up your heads, you ‘colored’ people, you have so much to offer! (And don’t forget we are actually more colored than you. We blush with embarrassment; turn green with envy, blue with cold, pale with shock, you name it!)

If you like this author how about checking her website: www.marilynshistoricalbooks.com

If The Missions Impossible, What Shall I Do?

Andy looked towards the top of the mountain but couldn’t see it. You see he was only an ant, but he had a job to do, he hoisted his backpack and started crawling… and crawling. It was impossible to see the path through the maze of grass, gravel, fallen leaves and other obstacles but he must get to the top. Every day for as long as he could remember he had been traveling upward, and much of the time the trip was exceedingly difficult. He was lost, Andy knew it; he hadn’t been able to find the trail for days, but knew it must be there somewhere. Surely, if he kept climbing in the right general direction he would get there; after all, he was climbing upwards.
Andy was exhausted. The sun was beating mercilessly on his head, had been for hours now, and the load was getting heavier by the minute. Could things get any worse? They could. Other ants were making their way back, tired and discouraged.

“It’s not enough,” they lamented, “You’ll have to hurry, our little anthills of good deeds are not enough to appease the Creator.
“What about those who have been martyrs: their piles are made up the pain they have suffered, are their offerings more acceptable?”
The only one not too weary to respond shook his head. “All of our offerings look pitiful; I don’t know why we try.”  At that, the other insects hissed angrily and there was such a clamor of protests that Andy crawled away to find shelter under a leaf.
He wondered for a long time what he should do if they toiled all day and long into the night yet their efforts weren’t satisfactory.  At length, he fell asleep.

“Andrew! Andrew!”
Andy stirred and opened his eyes but saw no one. There was a soft glow off to one side so focused on it.
“You are not an ant, but a man,” the melodious voice continued. “The one you call your master has convinced you that you are worthless, of no more significance that a lowly insect, but that is not so.
“Come let me take your burden, and as you share your worries with me, you will find the weight shrinking and you, yourself, will grow into the person you were meant to be.”
Andy turned over and went back to sleep, but in the morning the vision had not left him.
“I don’t know who you are, Sir,” he whispered into the air, but could you come and help me carry my weight?”
Immediately he felt his chest expand as if he could breathe easier and he was able to walk faster.
As the days went by, he found himself sharing more of the load with the unseen Comforter. Other ants looked up at him, puzzled, he was changing, growing, but not in a fearsome way. His face took on more human characteristics, such as kindliness and joy. Every time he helped someone with their troubles, he grew.
One day he shed the mold that was cramping him and was able to gaze into the eyes of his new Master.
Thank you for loving me enough to set me free,” he whispered.
The other ants still clamored around him, belittling him, accusing and distracting him, but he had a new Master.
That made such a difference.

If you want to choose a meaningful book you can keep and reach for time and time again, check out this website:
www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com