Choose Life





One of my operating lists at Victoria Hospital in Cape Town followed an abortion list.

The list was often still in progress as I arrived to prepare for my anaesthetics. The atmosphere in the waiting room was always the same, though the faces of the young girls awaiting their turn varied. Some were frankly scared, others had a show of bravado, while still others appeared to be hopeless victims of a degenerate lifestyle that was sucking the life out of them. Such was the impassive, resigned face of a sixteen-year-old who was coming for her fifth abortion in nine months. Yet, like tangible slime dripping from the walls and ceiling was an overriding, unspoken, often denied emotion: GUILT. No-one made eye contact with anyone else. No matter how much they denied it to themselves, deep down, God has placed His laws in our hearts (Romans 2:15) and that law was speaking to their consciences.

Inside the operating room, the atmosphere was aggressive. The abortionist had hardened her heart so that she was no longer moved by the sight of tiny, fragile little arms and legs and a broken head lying dismembered in a kidney dish. Indeed, often she was spared the sight as the little body was suctioned into a jar together with blood and placental tissue. The sister assisting hated the list and, by the end of it, was irritable, snapping at everyone. The floor nurse, who hated the list just as much sometimes snapped back.

It was always a sombre time for me to enter an operating room and start my list knowing that for the past two hours the room had been a killing field. Having been so close, I have to speak out.

I have just taken part in a March for Life in Durban. Among the many placards, one took my attention. It read: “CRIME SCENE: ONE DEAD, ONE WOUNDED”  How true. The mother is always wounded. No-one deliberately disobeys God’s laws and emerges unscathed. There are so many stories of the way the guilt of killing one’s child lives on in the life of a mother. If that is you, may I suggest a healing course of action:

Firstly, admit your guilt. That is the only way forward.

Secondly, contact one of many organisations that will help you through forgiveness. They will help you mourn your child and come to the only One who can give true forgiveness. Jesus has taken your guilt upon Himself. May I suggest this site: Elliot Institute

Before the March for Life, the preacher quoted from a man who had studied the Holocaust:

“Atrocities such as the Holocaust occur when governments try to solve economic and social problems with death.”

What a profound insight. Which takes me to another placard from the march, and which I have emblazoned on a tee-shirt that I wear:

CHOOSE LIFE – so that you and your children may live.






Free books and a chance to win an Amazon voucher

Hi everyone

I’m excited to tell you that my book Crisis in the Children’s Ward is one of seventeen books you can download for free as part of a Cozy Mystery promotion (Cozy mysteries are those without graphic violence or bad language for the jargon-challenged like me).

You can download any, or all of the eighteen books and stand a chance to win a $25-00 Amazon gift voucher.

Just click on the link:

What Writers Want

I recently found I was losing the joy of writing. This post puts things back inot perspective.

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Mel Gibson and Helen Hunt Photo Credit: YesMovies

In December 2000, Mel Gibson and Helen Hunt starred in the movie What Women Want. Like many women, I appreciated the sensitivity displayed by Gibson’s character, Nick Marshall, when he finally connected with the  female lead’s innermost desires. Reflecting on this chick flick, I think we writers share similar longings — in our relationships with readers.

For instance, most of the non-fiction writers I know want the following:Henry Van Dyke

  • To be heard. Non-fiction writers want to know readers are not only listening to what we are saying through the written word, but are finding our content valuable enough to actually apply to their lives.
  • To be accepted and understood. Non-fiction writers want to gather readers who are unified in their search for answers, support, and encouragement.
  • To be desired. Non-fiction writers want readers to want our books, our messages, and the unique way we express ourselves.
  • To…

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Seven Steps to Guaranteed Success as a Writer

This is such a good blog, re-centering on Jesus.

WordServe Water Cooler

Every author seems to have a different idea of what “success” in their field means to him or her. For some, selling at least five thousand (in Canada) or ten thousand (in the States) books, thereby qualifying them to claim the lofty title of “Bestselling Author” is the goal on which they set their sights. For others, maybe it’s a hundred thousand copies, or a million.

For some, it isn’t about the numbers, but about awards. But which award is the one that will make them feel as though they have finally arrived? Is it the Carol? The Christie? The Pulitzer? I’ve noticed several big-name authors who have won awards in the past entering the contests again, so maybe one award isn’t enough. What, then, is the magic number?

Or maybe it’s a certain amount of positive feedback, a sufficient number of glowing reviews on Amazon or Goodreads, recognition at…

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My fiction book is free for a few days

Hi Everyone

I’m happy to tell you that my fiction book Crisis in the Children’s Ward forms part of a group promotion and can be downloaded for free.You can also have a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift voucher.

Crisis in the Children’s Ward is about Jason Langley, MD whose life is constantly in danger as he investigates why children are dying unexpectedly.

Newly qualified Jason Langley MD’s first day on duty starts with drama, as he rushes to resuscitate a dead child. This is not the first child to die unexpectedly. A new sangoma (witchdoctor) has moved into the village and the villagers and nurses fear Black Magic. Is he killing the children?

A missionary’s daughter has organized a prayer initiative around the hospital. One of the prayer warriors senses that the missionary’s autistic son has a clue to the deaths of the children, but how can he? He is mute and cannot communicate.

Jason Langley’s debut into medical mystery and suspense will draw you forcefully into the life of rural South Africa, where fear, superstition and deadly powers abound.

I’d love to hear what you think of it.

Free books

A new site


Hi loyal followers,

Since I opened this blog quite a few years ago, I have written a couple more books, The title of God in the ICU is no longer really appropriate, so I’m changing the name, although you will still get to it the same way (the WordPress address remains the same.)

My site will now be called Godscribe, so if you get notification of a new post from  Godscribe, read God in the ICU.

The picture above was taken in the beautiful Transkei and is the banner for my new site. Please visit my site and tell me what you think. I’m keeping the title as God in the ICU for this post so that you will get it under that name, but it will be changed to Godscribe in the near future.

Blessings, and thanks very much for following.


More than a million on our knees

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Imagine being on your knees before God with over a million others, repenting and committing your life anew to serve Him with all your heart.

Imagine being surrounded further than you can see by a crowd of people from all walks of life and of every colour, all with their hands raised, praising and worshiping the only true God.

Imagine over a million people singing the creed: “I believe in God the Father, I believe in God the Son, I believe in the Holy Spirit, our God is three in One…” Irrespective of the other differences in doctrine, we were united in these basics which as one, we could proclaim into the heavenly realm.

Imagine being led in prayer by farmer/evangelist Angus Buchan and at the end of each prayer, the “Amen” echoing through the countryside and into the heavenlies from an estimated 1.7million voices.

Imagine calling on God and experiencing a wind rushing through the crowd, taking umbrellas and large clumps of grass into the air, turning into a little whirlwind before dissipating.

This was not a show. This was people coming together in a prayer meeting to ask God to save our land which has been torn apart for generations by greed, racism, violent crime, corruption and horrendous sexual sin. It is a situation only God can remedy with radical heart change, and there is evidence He is responding to the cry of His people. The gathering of His people was against a background of a new urgency to pray. Throughout the land before the big event, and during it, prayer meetings have been packed. Since the meeting the Chief Justice has called for 50 days of prayer, a billion dollar deal with Russia for nuclear power stations, concluded under highly suspicious circumstances has been ruled unlawful, Christian politicians have been emboldened to stand up for their faith and there is a new sense of optimism and a looking to God in the general population.

Jesus, in Luke 21:28 tells us, when we see disturbing things that will happen at the end of the age, to look up. On the 22nd April, the church of South Africa did just that and the ripples are felt through our nation.


Free Easter Gift

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Dear friends and followers. To me, this is the most wonderful season in the Christian calendar, where God not only demonstrated His love in the most tangible way possible, but changed the course of our destiny as the veil was torn in two and we all gained free access into the Holy of Holies through the Cross.

As a celebration, I’ve composed an anthology of poetry and verse to try to take us deeper into the heart of Jesus and the Father. If you’d like a copy — it’s completely free, click here

Have a blessed Easter


Ever Wondered What Pilate Thought?

Pontius Pilate

Pontius Pilate, not undeservedly, judging from historical accounts, gets a lot of bad press. He was a cruel tyrant who antagonized the Jews so much that he was eventually removed crom office. Neertheless, I wonder what was going on in the deep recesses of his mind after he had met with Jesus.

Who Was He?

I think I made a mistake. It’s not easy being a governor in a foreign land — especially one with such crazy bigots.

I had the whole pack baying for his life, because he didn’t toe their theological line! How do you keep the balance between order and what you know in your heart is right? Things were heading for a riot as they yapped at my heels like hunting dogs slavering for his blood. I couldn’t let it go on.

So I killed an innocent man.

I don’t usually care. I’ve done it before. Even enjoyed it, watching them writhe and seeing the people cower at the power I can wield — or grow angry, depending on their mood. It’s never affected me this way before. What’s it to me as long as I can keep law and order? That’s the priority.

But there’s something bothering me about this one. He was different. He wouldn’t cower and he wouldn’t talk, but his looks were eloquent enough and I didn’t like it. He seemed to look into my heart, and that’s a private place. I don’t even like going there myself, sometimes. For all the pleasure I get from seeing others squirm under my power — especially those filthy Jews — sometimes the inner door opens a chink and there are longings……..and doubts…….I like to keep that door shut.

There was something else in his eyes, too. What was it? That’s part of what’s bugging me. I’ve spotted fear in eyes a hundred times or more and enjoyed the smell of it. I’ve seen arrogance, too and I like that even more. It spurs me to greater cruelty with no remorse.

His eyes had neither. The closest I can come to describe it is… let me see…pity? No, though there was some of that. Love? Perhaps. Compassion! That’s it. It was as though he was looking at ME with compassion. I had the power of life and death in my hands — his life — and he’s looking at ME with compassion. It was so absurd that it unnerved me.

And that conversation about truth! Everyone knows that truth is relative, changing with our experience. Yet when I looked at him, he seemed so completely integrated, so sure — as if behind the man was a colossus, solid and unmoving —  eternal, almost.  I had the weirdest feeling I was looking at Truth itself. I had to turn away and give a mocking, “What is truth?” But in a sense I was asking myself the question…. and wondering if he could tell me.

That’s when I decided to let him go.

I tried my hardest. I tried to flog and release, and when that didn’t work, I used the Jewish feast to release one prisoner, trying to persuade the Jews to accept him as the one. Nothing worked with those unbending fanatics. Then the crowd started getting ugly and it was order first, as always. I washed my hands of the case and let them have their way.

But no matter how much I wash my hands, they still feel smeared with his blood.

I heard some of the things he said from the cross — strange things to come from a dying man, especially one unjustly tortured. When I heard of them, I had a flashback to those eyes. I thought I saw that same compassionate look that unnerved me when I questioned him. How could a dying man plead for the forgiveness of those killing him? And did that include me?

I heard he even had words of encouragement to that scoundrel crucified next to him. He spoke as if that wasn’t the end of him — that they’d meet again.

And the eclipse that lasted so long (why hadn’t our astronomers predicted that?) at the same time as an earthquake. Was it coincidence that it all happened round about the time of his death?

Yes, I have a feeling that for once I made a mistake. This was one man I should have let free. Claudia thinks so — she told me on the day of the trial, and I’ve never heard the end of it since! But why should I worry? No-one can touch me. I’m Pontius Pilate and I have all the power of Rome behind me.

Yet, this one thought keeps bugging me:

“What if he wasn’t just a man?”