Showing posts with label Kathleen Friesen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kathleen Friesen. Show all posts

May 10, 2023

Focus on Endurance and Encouragement - Guest Post by Kathleen Friesen



I’ve been reading Paul’s letter to the Romans and have loved Romans 15:13 for a long time, even using it as my tagline when signing books. But before reaching that familiar blessing, verse five leapt off the page.

May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you the same attitude of mind toward each other that Christ Jesus had. (Romans 15:5 NIV)

That resonated clearly, even though I misunderstood part of the meaning. More about that in a moment. First, the source of endurance and encouragement? God Almighty. 

Then I checked Strong’s Concordance and got a surprise. The Greek word translated endurance in the NIV is huomone, meaning patience, endurance, or cheerful, hopeful waiting. 

Rats. I’d thought that if I could tap into this verse and get God’s endurance, I’d have unlimited stamina. Power to do what I wanted? Wondrous! My house would always be clean, I could run marathons, and writing a book would be a snap. Wouldn’t that be fantastic? But I was wrong.

Instead of power to accomplish my own goals, Father God grants me patience to endure my weakness. To-do lists are beneficial but can easily replace attentive listening to the Holy Spirit. And He does provide the strength to complete the tasks He wants me to do. I’m still learning that when I listen closely and do what’s important to Him, the rest doesn’t matter. God doesn’t run His finger along the coffee table to check for dust. He doesn’t expect me to lace up my runners and break the tape at the finish line. And writing? That’s where I really need His endurance and encouragement. 

Discouragement sets in too easily when a story stalls or refuses to begin. The last few years have been difficult, and the words I need to create scenes flit away like butterflies. When that happens, I desperately need to lean into God’s cheerful, hopeful waiting. Perseverance is important, but beating myself up for failing to make progress doesn’t work either. God knows my heart, and He will give me the words in His time.

Encouragement comes from God through His word and through His children. The Greek word here is paraklesis, which may sound familiar. When Jesus promised his disciples He would send them the Comforter, the Holy Spirit (John 14:16 KJV), the word for Comforter is parakletos, one who comes alongside. 

“And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you for ever.”

Other translations render parakletos as Advocate, Helper or Counselor, which also fit with the word encouragement. 


There have been times when I’ve struggled physically and emotionally, and our Father prompted someone to send a message of hope. One time a note from a fellow Inscribe member came in the mail with exactly the loving thoughts I needed that day. Other times I received a text or phone call, each one a precious encouragement. And God’s word speaks to my heart, reassuring me that He loves me and is in control not only of my life but the whole world. What a blessing!

God extends endurance and encouragement to me, making it possible for me to turn and offer encouragement to others. When I see others struggling or even sense they may be, He gives me the courage to reach out. 


This is an ongoing lesson, because although I know better, my tendency is to “turtle” and hide away from everyone. The Holy Spirit draws me out of my shell, encouraging me to take small steps of love. Send a text. Offer to pray. Give a hug. Write a positive review. And guess what? When I give the blessing of encouragement, it comes back multiplied, every single time – God’s amazing economy at work.



Kathleen Friesen loves writing stories of faith that overcomes. Through her characters, she invites readers to risk faith, dare to love, and trust God with the consequences. After several years in the Okanagan valley, she and her husband have re-settled in Martensville, Saskatchewan with their rescue dog Lacy.


December 12, 2020

Silent Night - Guest post by Kathleen Friesen


A few years ago, lights from the Christmas tree reflected on my piano’s glossy surface as I opened my new music book, a gift from our church, to one of my favorite Christmas carols, “Silent Night.” My husband wanted to watch the news on TV, so I plugged in the headphones that directed sound from the electronic instrument to my ears only. 

This arrangement of “Silent Night” began simply with the soothing melody. 

Silent night, holy night 

All is calm, all is bright.

’Round yon virgin Mother and Child

Holy infant so tender and mild,

Sleep in heavenly peace

Sleep in heavenly peace.

I played on, following the written score as it added harmonies, point and counterpoint.

Silent night, holy night. 

Shepherds quake at the sight.

Glories stream from heaven afar;

Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia!

Christ the Savior is born

Christ the Savior is born.

But then the newscast behind me intruded. Some poor homeless man had been found nearly frozen to death. War had erupted in two more areas, details to follow. Financial gurus predicted hardships in the New Year. On and on, bad news assaulted my ears as my fingers played.

Silent night, holy night 

Son of God, love's pure light

Radiant beams from thy holy face

With the dawn of redeeming grace,

Jesus, Lord at thy birth

Jesus, Lord at thy birth.

The contrast jarred me. Today, we endure a pandemic and global political unrest and injustice, but wars, brutality, tragedy were just as prevalent when Jesus took on mortality. Consider what happened shortly after the visitation from the wise man: Herod ordered all little boys up to two years of age to be slaughtered. Oh, the horror! The incredible grief! Where childish laughter had filled the air, screams of agony rang. 

I shook my head with the awareness that dreadful times are nothing new. The world needed and still needs the healing comfort of redemption, which only comes through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection.

Redeeming grace is God’s gift to us. Hardships and trauma still surround us and affect us, but because Jesus gave up Heaven’s glory to live in our mess, we have hope. What a wonderful reason to celebrate!

Today, joy brings tears to my eyes as I play,

Silent night, holy night!

All is calm, all is bright.

’Round yon virgin Mother and Child

Holy infant so tender and mild,

Sleep in heavenly peace

Sleep in heavenly peace.

May all the blessings of Christmas bring peace and joy to you and yours.

___________


Kathleen Friesen
has always loved to lose herself in a good story, especially tales of love and faith that overcome. These days, she'll often get lost in her current work in progress, whatever it may be. Kathleen's stories invite the reader to risk faith, dare to love, and enjoy the results.

When she’s not at the keyboard, you can find Kathleen gardening, visiting with friends old and new, or helping her husband renovate their house. When the renovations are finally done, there may be a party.


May 08, 2015

The Breathings of My Heart - Guest Blogger Kathleen Friesen

Welcome to guest blogger Kathleen Friesen.

The Breathings of My Heart

Writing takes courage. Submitting takes even more.

Even if an author simply states facts, she opens herself to argument over the veracity of her statements and the implication that her research or knowledge failed. That can hurt.

If, however, an author writes from her heart, whether fiction or nonfiction, she opens her very soul to judgement. Oh. My. Goodness. Judgement cuts deep, sometimes wounding beyond healing, without the grace of God.

That’s why I didn’t submit any of my writings until my mid-forties. I was not brave enough. Way back in a high school creative writing class, my offering was read aloud with effusive praise from the teacher, and a spark flared. I could do this! But then reality hit like a fire extinguisher. Where praise elevated, judgement crushed. I cowered under the unkind remarks of classmates and banked that feeble spark. Maybe later, I thought. I’ll be brave enough when I’m an adult. But I wondered if I could ever dare to expose my heart to strangers again.

It took many years. That spark flared up many times, and I filled journals with ramblings, poems, and starts of stories. Then finally, with the encouragement of my husband, I enrolled in a two-year online writing course from Christian Writers Guild and was assigned a mentor who encouraged as well as she instructed. Karen O’Connor’s enthusiasm instilled in me the courage to dare.

So a few months into the course, I submitted a poem dredged from the depths of grief. The tumour in my little niece’s brain had returned. Writing the poem was cathartic, but submitting the breathings of my heart scared me to death. What if it didn’t bring inspire anyone’s faith, the way I hoped? What if no one liked it? What if they branded me a heretic?

When my copy of the magazine arrived in the mail, I opened it with trembling fingers and stared at my published poem until tears blurred the words. That first publication fanned the spark into full flame. The fear I’d felt when submitting my work couldn’t compare to the joy of seeing the thoughts of my heart in print and the hope that somehow God would use me to bless others.

What made the difference? My mentor’s encouragement helped, but what continues to fan that spark into flame is the breath of God’s love. He is the one who pushes me to step past my fears, time after time. He constantly and patiently pulls me out of my ingrained self-centeredness, that trait that tells me I have to protect myself above all else.

Jesus Christ says, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.”  And in another place: “Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” That doesn’t leave any room for self-protection, does it?

When I open my heart, I bleed. It hurts. But if that bleeding helps someone else to heal, to hope, to love Jesus, it is worth all the anxiety and pain. The breathings of my heart become the breath of God. What greater privilege can there possibly be?


May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.