Thursday, 19 January 2017

Praise in the Storm


This morning I awoke to a Neuralgia flare-up, a neurological condition that has taken up residence in my brain for many years. My head throbbed, feeling like a giant pimple not quite ready to be popped, but regardless, something or someone was squeezing it. Waking up in this state is not new or surprising, but what makes today is a trifle different is, I must write a blog post on thankfulness.


As I stared at my screen trying to gather my thoughts the letters and icons across the top turned into bright stars doing a square dance all over the page. My eyes drifted closed and I leaned back in my chair. Within seconds a beautiful old hymn floated into my thoughts—I see the stars—I hear the rolling thunder—Thy power throughout the universe displayed. Immediately I was reminded of how small and insignificant I am, yet my Heavenly Father took time to nudge me into refocusing my mind. Gratitude overflowed from within and I recalled a few of the many blessed moments in my life.


It overwhelms me knowing that our great and mighty God gave me the privilege of growing up in a home where godliness was a way of life. Sunday School was not an option, and I am thankful for those Sunday afternoons because it was in that small group I committed my life to Christ.


I am grateful for my children and grandchildren, my brothers and sister, my church family and my writing family. I am thankful I live in a country where freedom is a reality. It may be cold at times, but I have a warm house and my cupboards and fridge are always full. When I’m lonely, friends or entertainment are only a click away. My eyes don’t work very good anymore, but I have an active imagination that can fill in details I can not see.


 It would be nice to say that throughout my mini praise the pain in my head lessened but that is not so. It hurts big time but it no longer controls my feelings. For this I’m grateful because by changing the direction of my thoughts I was able to complete this post. I am also grateful for my soft comfy bed I’m about to curl up in until my head returns to normal. While I’m being thankful for big things, I’m reminded of the small day to day blessings I find myself taking for granted. For example, my four kitties, Beebins, Oliver, Athena, and Bentlee who will curl up around me, their soft purrs and unconditional love always bringing me comfort.


Satisfied I’d done all I could for this post, I clicked on the save icon and that beautiful old hymn once again filled my thoughts. Then sings my soul—My Savior God to Thee—how great Thou art.

Tuesday, 27 November 2012


A Chat with Janis Cox

  1. What is the (working) title of your book?   Doubt in Eden
  2. Where did the idea come from for the book?  From a news cast
  3.  What genre does your book fall under? Suspense

  4.  What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?  Christian does not always mean safe
  5. Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency? Hopefully, represented by an agent
  6.  How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript? I did the NaNoWritMoN so the very basic draft took a month, but more needs to be added and I'm sure lots will  be cut in order to make it a draft to build on...    
  7.  Who or What inspired you to write this book?  The novel is written for women over 60. It shows the difficulties widows face after their husband death. A widow myself, I use my own situations and have my protag. work through them.
  8. What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest? I think I just answered that question.
       www.janiscox.com


Sunday, 28 June 2009



A Life
Light flashes
streaks
disappears
before one breath is taken
As does life
in the eyes of our creator.
So many moments
experiences
loves
hates
touching lives
lives touching
all jammed
into
one breath
then it's gone
leaving nothing
to show
a soul ever lived.

Friday, 2 January 2009

Behind the Obvious
My friend who had a brain tumor removed several weeks earlier sat across the table from me in our favorite restaurant. My excitement gushed out in inquiries about her recovery.
As nonsense poured out of her mouth, my eyes filled and my mouth dropped open in spite of my efforts to keep it closed. My throat swelled. This couldn’t be happening. Removing that tumour was supposed to restore her brain function.
Within hours, my friend was ambulanced to the closest intensive care hospital, and I was left behind to pace my home, trying to convince myself that all things do work together for the benefit of those who love the Lord. No way could I see how this fearful situation could benefit anyone.
A phone call came from my friend's grandson. Her head was filled with infection. She was already in surgery to clean it out. This procedure would restore her brain function.
I thanked him and hung up, hoping he was right, yet afraid to believe it would.
In due time, my friend returned to our local hospital. When I entered her room, she lay still on the bed, pale faced, with an angry candy cane-shaped incision on her temple.
Her eyes fluttered open and a smile lit her face. She reached for my hand. "I'm so glad to see you."
After returning her greeting I sat on a chair in the corner. "Why did this have to happen?" I mused to myself as much as her.
My friend leaned back into the pillows. "There's things we'll never understand as long as we are on earth, but this whole experience, as bad as it was, had a bright light."
I raised my eyebrow, inviting her to continue.
"As I lay on whatever I lay on in the intensive care unit, I heard a young man sobbing on the other side of the curtain that separated us. I did what all grandmothers do. I tried to console him. Accepting my friendship, he told me about the accident he'd been in, how his life was about to change, how scared he was.
As he admitted his fears to me, I realized I'd battled with the same thoughts, but I knew Jesus was nearby and I talked about my heartbreak with him. I shared this with the young man and his sobs stopped. He left the unit earlier than me, but before he left, he stopped by my bed and thanked me for my concern, and for reminding him that Jesus is our strength when our own is gone.
My friend stared out the window a bit, then turned back to me. "I'm not saying I went through this second surgery just to share God's love with that young man, but it certainly made the whole ordeal worthwhile."

Obstacles are those frightful things you see when

you

take your eyes off your goal.