BOOK PUBLISHED INDEPENDENTLY 2008
Shortlisted for Best New Canadian Christian Book Author Award 2005 and 2006
                    

78 true stories, 184 pages, 43,016 words. On floppy disk.
(Ideas for another 70 similar stories on file)

Nan's first book, "Listening to the Sound of His Voice from childhood to grandparenthood" was shortlisted for the Best New Canadian Christian Book Award 2006.

Click here to read what Kevin Miller, noted and prolific Canadian writer,  has to say about this book..

Kevin Miller, a judge of the Best New Canadian Christian Book Author Award Contest of 2006, gave my book 92 points out of 100. Read what this noted, prolific Canadian writer says about "Listening to the Sound of His Voice from childhood to grandparenthood"

"I really liked this book, particularly its format. Taking a narrative rather than a didactic approach to this topic was a good choice. It really sets the book apart from other books written about this topic.

True to its title, the book contains a broad spectrum of stories that, taken together, are strong evidence in support of the book's thesis.

The length of this book also feels appropriate on a story level and in terms of the book as a whole. This is a "highly digestible book" on all levels. Stories can be consumed in a few minutes, and the entire book is written in clear, readable prose.

In conclusion, this is one of the strongest books I judged in this contest. I can see a good market for the book, especially if the author is available to promote it"

If interested in this book, please contact

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A TASTE OF MY BOOK

To sample my book, "Listening to the Sound of His Voice" check out user-friendly titles and subtitles of some of the book's 78 real lifestories.. Read stories from the book's seven life seasons.
    The book shares my own stories and those of people helped and known since 1954. That year, as a new Christian, I began learning to listen for what the Lord wanted to work into my life as His servant daughter. As a writer I find the reassurance these stories of God's constant concern gives others, encourages me to continue listening and writing.
    What makes this book unique from other inspirational books on this subject is that the stories are the message. Intimate stories of people experiencing God's caring attention readily involve readers as they identify with life's joys and challenges.
    Scripture naturally woven into the stories assures believers while it encourages others to consider this reality of hearing from God.
    The book's introductory story relates the honest skepticism of a visitor whose mind opened to the experience of God's speaking to His people through a real life story he could identify with.
    Here are a few of the user-friendly titles and sub-titles to give an idea of the book's contents:

from Chapter 1: Listening...as a child
A GIFT OF MUSIC
A son steps out to bless with a creative idea from God

from Chapter 2: Listening...as a friend
BRIDGE PEOPLE
When they're on the scene division doesn't have a chance

from Chapter 3: Listening...as a spouse
A HOLE IN OUR SPIRITUAL UMBRELLA
The risk of an unrepaired tiff

from Chapter 4: Listening...as a parent
ABOUT PARENTAL MISTAKES
What do the kids think about them?

from Chapter 5: Listening...as a grandparent
WHAT DID HE SAY, WHAT DID HE SAY?
Little boys agree with the Lord's wisdom

from Chapter 6: Listening...as a caregiver of an aging parent
WALKING HER BELOVED HILLS
Helping an aging parent adjust to new surroundings

from Chapter 7: Listening...as a work in progress
YOU NEED AN EGO TO SING
Yes and no

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HERE ARE A FEW SAMPLE STORIES FROM BY BOOK:

Listening to the Sound of His Voice                                 ...as a spouse

A HOLE IN OUR SPIRITUAL UMBRELLA
the risk of an unrepaired tiff

    What was the police cruiser doing in front of our house? The upbeat mood of our church's New Year's Eve service vanished as we turned our car into our driveway.
    A young officer stepped out of the cruiser and came to my window. "Ma'am, Sir, best leave the car here," he said as I lowered my window apprehensively.
    "I'll be going into your house with you," he said, helping me out of the car. "The houses of your two next door neighbors have been broken into. We checked both houses out after they called to report. You're the last to get home. It's possible our cruiser lights have alerted the thieves. They may be hiding in your house."
    As the officer accompanied me up the walk to the house, I was bewildered, "But we covered the house with the blood of Jesus before we left," I said to myself. But I said it aloud.
    "Oh really?" said the young policeman, putting his hand under my elbow as we climbed the steps to our front door. "Well, let's get in and see what's happened."
    As I took the house key from my purse and slipped it into the lock, I thought, "I think I'm about to learn something."
    The policeman stepped in front of me to enter the house first. Our small cat, cringing in the recliner chair, clutched my arm as I picked her up. I gathered her little quaking body in my arms and stared at our disheveled livingroom. The officer slipped from room to room of our bungalow before heading for the basement.
    "No one up here," he whispered. "I'll go down and check the basement. You take a look and see what's missing in the bedrooms, okay?"
    The contents of my husband's file cabinet had been emptied and its contents strewn across the floor but everything seemed there.
    I heard the policeman coming back up the stairs, calling out in a loud voice, "Nobody here either. But I can tell you how they got in. The same small individual who climbed through the cellar window off the driveway of both your neighbor's houses came through yours too. After he wriggles his way through a basement window he comes up to unlock the front door and let the others in. You should keep those windows locked."
    "You going to be all right?" he said, putting a hand on my arm as I clutched my still cringing cat, "Doesn't look at first sight like they took too much, not like the other houses where they got TV's, money, jewelry and some rare liquor. Let's check about some more."
    Closet doors had been opened, clothes riffled, drawers emptied, the desk dumped. But all we could find obviously missing was a bottle of American coins worth about three dollars that had been on the kitchen window sill.
    I  laughed. My husband and the cop looked at me starkly: what was there to laugh about? Our home had just been invaded! I saw their faces and laughed again as my nervous system unfroze.  .I stroked the cat and set her on the floor.
    "I'm not sure I shouldn't feel insulted," I smiled in explanation. "Aren't our household effects worth stealing? But oh yes, I'm glad the little coin jar was all they took."
    "They may not have had time to take anything more," the policeman pointed out. "I'd make a list of what they got, but you don't see anything else missing, I gather."
    When we called our kids at their own homes next morning to wish them Happy New Year, they reacted to our news with initial shock and then gratitude that the situation hadn't been more serious.
    I expected some sort of professional assessment from my son, the correctional officer. But what I treasured was the assessment from my son, the Christian.
    "The cop's right. Of course you should always keep the lock on windows, especially ground level windows. But you said you and Dad had an argument you didn't settle before leaving for church last night, eh? Hey, Momsy, you should always keep the lock on good relations too. The blood of Jesus covers believers but holding onto hard feelings punctures a hole in your umbrella!
    "Sorry...enough with the sermon. Somebody violated your privacy and you had a rude shock. But if the Lord hadn't been looking after you it could have been much, much worse, you know."
    He was right. I've never forgotten the lesson God gave me via my son's comment. It went right into my tool repair kit...for whenever I have a tiff with a loved one.
                                 copyright, 2006, Nan McKenzie Kosowan

Listening to the Sound of His Voice                                    ...as a spouse

DOORKNOB DOCTRINE
An alert coming in the front door

    Usually putting finishing touches on supper, this night I was ready early and sitting by the window as my husband came up the front steps from work.
    When he didn't open the door and come in, I craned my neck to see him just standing there for several minutes.
    "Got a surprise for me?" I smiled as he came in, waiting to see something come from his pocket that he'd secreted away there at the door.
    "No...why?" he asked curiously.
    I felt a little foolish explaining, but indeed, it was a gift for me that had taken his time at the front door.
    "Ooohhh, I see," he chuckled. "Well, I use the doorknob as a checkpoint every night. The Lord got on my case a few months ago and I made a promise not to bring home any grumps or grumbles from the office. The doorknob is my reminder, my attitude checkpoint. If I've got stuff hanging on, it only takes a minute to wash with a bit of prayer.
    "You like me clean?" he smiled as he got his welcome-home hug.
               copyright 2006, Nan McKenzie Kosowan

Listening to the Sound of His Voice                                      ...as a friend

GOD WHO?
the wrong "lord" wanted to keep her from her Lord

    During our teen years she'd been only a bit shorter than I. But at this moment, in that big bed, she looked small and fragile. I was spending my regular day with my friend Ann that last summer of her life. Cancer was ravaging her body, but couldn't touch her wit or beautiful smile.
    "Sit down on the bed here," she said. "What's happening? I've got some news and I've got some questions too."
    In our teens I'd always looked up to "big sister" Ann, as the most intelligent, attractive, charming girl I knew. I was always asking Ann the questions. Now she had questions for me? This day there was a sense of expectancy in the air that I couldn't quite get a fix on.
    "Lord," I prayed under my breath, "You see it from beginning to end. You lead. I'll follow."
    Even while I was sharing the happenings of my week with Ann, I was thinking how dramatically our relationship had changed after we'd headed to university, then married and almost drifted apart as our common ground developed furrows of different outlooks, attitudes and preferences.
    As our young families visited in those early days, a distinct alienation between our interests, passions and purposes began to show up. And then there was the mockery.
    The mockery came when her husband Phil grabbed the opportunity to make snide remarks whenever anything about our new life in Christ came up. And it did come up. When Jesus is your life, He's also a natural part of your  conversation. I was devastated as Ann looked on with amusement at his mocking.
    When my husband and I took it to The Lord, He wanted us to just keep loving them. "They don't understand. Go ahead and live your life in Me in front of them. My grace is there for the mockery and insults to pass right over your head without affecting you. And watch where I lead that you may follow."
    We did experience God's grace and Phil's clever, searing remarks did pass over our heads without effect. And that included our kids. Passionate about their relationship with Jesus, they looked forward to our times together, accepted the way Ann and Phil were and loved them for Jesus no matter what.
    During one of those family visits Ann read an article I'd written for a Christian publication and asked me about my own relationship with Jesus and His people that I enjoyed so much. That encouraged me until a mutual friend told me to watch what I told Ann. On coffee breaks together Ann would ridicule my sharing.
    When I asked the Lord about this, He gave me the same admonition as before. I thought, "I'll do that until God tells me something different."
    The day visits of that last summer were precious. Since Jesus is my life, He was as natural a part of my conversation as ever. Ann's response, so full of curiosity about life in Christ, never suggested she'd ever try it herself.
    "Lord?" I had asked Him after one visit marked by a particularly concentrated barrage of questions, "When she keeps asking such vital questions, why can't she respond to the answers?"
    I  wasn't expecting His answer: "Her husband is her God."
    I prayed silently as I sat beside her that last week of her life, "Lord, I believe You'd have me bind the influence of that idol in her life right now in the Name of Jesus, so I do!"
    Ann's questions about life that starts with Christ here and now and continues after death were poignant, especially after hearing her news of the doctor's report that her death was imminent, probably within the month. I remember little of those precious moments of sharing other than the concluding embrace of two women who were, at last, sisters in Christ.
    Phil came home from work surprised to see my car in the driveway. "Nan, you're still here! Where ever did you leave my dinner?"
    "Come see," I laughed. "You sweethearts deserve a fancy dinner together. It's set up here tonight."
    He bounded upstairs, kissed his wife and grinned at dinner spread out with lace and best dinnerware, hers on a be tray, his on a small table nearby.
    When Phil let out a salacious remark (his way to compliment a woman) it went over my head.
    But this time it was different for Ann. No chuckle, no grin. She raised her frail self on her poor thin arms and said in a no-nonsense tone, "Don't ever speak to Nan like that again." I was quiet, taking up the meal for Ann and Phil.  But inside, bells were ringing: Phil's no longer her god! God is!
    I stayed to clean up the kitchen and was blessed by happy, loving chatter from the bedroom above.
    Ann died the next week with Phil by her bedside, holding her hand. Phil, prepared to follow his sweetheart as a cancer victim the next year, met Jesus through the visit of a colleague.
    God taught me to share Jesus as a natural part of my life wherever and whenever He said and to bind barriers Satan erects to stop someone from considering life with Christ.
    Constantly amazed at the way God's plans work out, I love telling Ann's story that shows our part as simply listening and following.
              "The blessing of The Lord makes rich
           and He adds no sorrow with it." (Prov. 10:22).
                               copyright 2006, Nan McKenzie Kosowan

Listening to the Sound of His Voice                                     ...as a friend

SPIRITUAL MEMOS
       The Holy Spirit's Prayer Promptings

  Why should this story trigger memories of that old friend?
  Why should this dessert have me thinking about that relative?
  Why should this radio show bring that friend to mind?

     Answering an unexpected phone call with the surprised exclamation, "I was thinking of you last week," I often hear the reply, "Well I hope you were praying for me, because..."
    To Christian believers of Holy Spirit-led prayer, such "promptings" aren't flukes of memory or impromptu triggerings of some psychological signal. They may be calls to prayer if we keep our minds open to His promptings. I haven't always been alert to pray when spiritual prompts have come, but I'm learning to recognize them as prompts and to respond in prayer.
   When applying eye-make-up, I at times remember a friend who returned to her home in Egypt. We had studied the Bible together and one day she taught me how to use...guess what? Eye-liner! We lost touch and I haven't heard of her for years. But I choose to pray God's strength, comfort and wisdom for her when prompted to remember this gracious sister in the Lord. I can hear what was going on at the time when we meet in Heaven one day.
   Spiritual memos can play a part in The Holy Spirit's awesome communications system...awesome in the real sense of that word!
                  copyright 2006, Nan McKenzie Kosowan

Listening to the Sound of His Voice                                   ....as a friend

CASTING YOUR BURDEN WHERE IT BELONGS
    When "burn out" might indicate a God-assignment is done

    Whenever you meet a passionate Christian you get some good tips to put in your "empowering" file.
     We met such a Christian at a Full Gospel Businessmen's Breakfast meeting when a smiling, affable man approached the book table where my husband and I were helping.
    "Learned a lot from Christian books," Ron said looking over the book display, "but experiences while serving the Lord have taught me more than any book except the Bible."
    "Oh," I said, always ready to hear and record a good story, "we'd love to hear about some of those lessons, if you'd like to go for coffee after we close up."
    "Do you know what you're getting into?" he laughed, "I have a reputation as a talker, you know!"
    Ron lived up to his reputation and we enjoyed every minute of his animated sharing as he regaled us with his "God adventures" over coffee. Our respect grew as he shared his failures as well as his victories for the Lord.
    We won't forget one particularly affecting story Ron shared with us. It was how he learned to handle the depression he experienced whenever the Gospel message he shared with a dying man fell on defiant ears.

Ron's story:
    Every Christian who means business with God, gets an assignment. My specific assignment is to visit men dying in hospital who've never heard the Gospel. I go knowing it's their last chance to hear. And I go knowing He loves every one of them, even the difficult ones. Some of the difficult ones are suffering the consequences of wrong living in their bodies. Some fear the future because they've lived evil lives. Some hold hard-as-rock defiance towards God. And I go knowing for sure that God sends me there because He gives me the words for each man when I don't know what to say.
    I've seen many dying men take first steps towards Christ during my hospital visits and I've left their rooms walking on clouds, rejoicing.
    But sometimes I've left a man's room with a heavy heart when a "tough love" word God has given me to speak has been rejected. One man turned his back on me, another ordered me from his room, and another refused to speak to me.
    If God says His yoke is easy and His burden light (Matthew 11:30) how can a Christian, looking to God for His empowering to do what He's told him to do, experience "burn out"? But I was facing it. "Lord," I groaned, driving home after one of those heart-wrenching visits, "I'm not complaining, but I wonder at times why You tell me to come on so strong. Some of these men get mad when I'm blunt and this depression moves right in on me.
    "My aim is to be firm, kind and honest with those who let me share about Jesus, God's love and the Life Hereafter. The men who accept Christ often tell me that I made the message easy to consider. That's what I want...to see Your Holy Spirit wooing people as I share Your Word. I'm going to tell them about Your love and nothing's going to stop me. But what can I do about the depression that hits every time I share with men who get angry at the mention of Your Name?
    "I'm sure Satan has a claim on the lives of defiant men and tries to thwart any effort to get them through Heaven's Gate. I'm also sure it's crucial for any warrior heading into spiritual battle to follow biblical warning to put on the whole armor of God and bind the enemy's work (Ephesians 6:11-18. Matthew 16:19, 18:18).
    "You know I use those scriptures every time I approach a dying man who doesn't know You want him in heaven, not hell. I know angels rejoice in heaven if he receives that message but depression grips me if he rejects it.
    "Lord, the man I just left...I can still see the hate on his face as he grabbed my Bible and threw it on the hospital floor at the mention of Your Name."
    Needing peace to hear from God, I pulled the car to the side of the road and leaned against the steering wheel, staring out the window in front of me but seeing nothing...and seeing nothing in the spirit either. As I prayed in the spirit, begging for understanding, the Holy Spirit quickened to me another "burden" scripture, "Cast your burden on the Lord He shall sustain you; He shall never permit the righteous to be moved" (Psalm 55:22).
    As the words freshened my spirit, I could see the source of my confusion and pain. The burden for souls starts with Jesus. He asks us to share His burden, to tell people about His love and His plans for their lives. But whether someone obediently sharing the Gospel likes it or not, God gives men free will to reject or accept Him.
    I saw so clearly that a man's decision is his to make. When he has, the burden God gives me for him is no longer mine to carry. I can cast my burden on the Lord without regret, having shared what God told me, even as I accept that a man has freely rejected Jesus.
    But how I rejoice as I return to God the burden for any man if that man has welcomed Jesus into his life!

     Ron finished his story and after a moment said quietly, "If I feel bad when a dying man refuses Jesus, think how God must feel when His love is rejected. He loved us so much that He sacrificed His Son to bridge the gap sin makes between Father God and us. Oh, that dying men might know... I have to go see those men every week. If they're going to have a last chance to decide, they have to hear."
                     copyright 2006, Nan McKenzie Kosowan

Listening to the Sound of His Voice                     ...as a work in progress

CENTER OF WHOSE UNIVERSE?
     An exuberant kitten demonstrates "halal" praise

    Parents of offspring now in their forties, we've learned to respect diversities that developed in the lives of our children after leaving home. Our son grew up in a cat aficionado home but became a dog lover. That helps explain his response to the new kitten we took into our home and hearts. His amused consideration of our new family member gave me this real life parable.
   Shortly after little Taffy became part of our household, our son came to visit and found his Dad, Mom and Grandma acting a bit silly over this new and highly active ginger kitten.
    "That little cat," he grinned, "is going to think he's the centre of the universe."
    Do we spoil this little guy? I wondered, looking down on the ball of ginger fluff perched on my slipper, head upside down, small body vibrating under a tiger-sized purr.
    "Not spoiled, just enthusiastic," I thought I heard the Holy Spirit say.
     Knowing that "entheos" (Greek) means "inspired", I could see here, a parable in the making. With every inch of his being, Taffy responds to our loving care. We inspire that tiger-sized purr coming from that small, vibrating body. We are the center of his universe, not the other way around.
    "Taffy loves because we first loved him," I smiled as the scriptural declaration, "We love because He first loved us," (1 John 4:19) wound around in my head like joyful music. Here indeed was my parable. Just as Jesus used the cultural artifacts of the day in His parables, so the very next week I would be using this kitten's loving response to our caring as a parable for our whole-hearted praise of our God.
    Halal , a form of scriptural praise, meaning "clamorously foolish", describes Taffy's state as he bounces his small energetic self into laps or onto slippers of his persons. When his persons sit together over an amiable cup of tea, he flies off for his fur toy, carrying it in his mouth into our midst like a small Irish terrier to wrestle it magnificently, watching from the corner of his eye for our approval. His reward for putting on such an enthusiastic display of appreciation is simply to be in our presence.
    I've seen the posturing of our son's two adoring dogs as they fawn and frolic for their master's affection. Our kitten is not as commandingly handsome as those impressive fellows. But that day I watched and was blessed as tiny Taffy sent his own love memo to our son the dog lover, curling up beside him on the sofa, looking into his face, blinking button-sized eyes and stretching a tiny paw to the big hand beside him.
    To be the loving friend of our Person is to find our reward just being in His presence. What other gift than the gift of love blesses both giver and receiver when given away...and blesses others in the giving as well?
    I'm not a cat. My God is not some doting human entity. But the parable is seen in this similarity: the Lord takes pleasure in the joy we express when we come into His presence and abandon ourselves to exuberant "halal" (1 Chronicles 23:30) praise.
    Postscript: With Taffy on his leash, I took this parable to one of our church Sunday School classes. Seventy little pairs of eyes followed his jaunty stroll to the front and I could guess the thoughts: "What's a cat doing in church...and walking on a leash?" Taffy sat on my shoulder throughout the five-minute story. On our way out, 70 children knew his "halal" story and 70 pairs of little hands reached out to touch his fur as he passed down the aisle, fluffy tail held high, making friends at every step.
    People who might be offended by someone "talking religion" will often relate easily and naturally to a tender story involving a child or a pet that tells of a real God genuinely moving to lavish a real blessing on a real life.
                       copyright 2006, Nan McKenzie Kosowan

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