God said he was taking my child. Seven years later, he did.
Author: Johanna Frank
Publisher: Marrow Publishing
Pages: 279
Genre: Christian Nonfiction/Memoir
Format: Paperback, Kindle
The Voice I Couldn’t Ignore—a work of creative nonfiction, a story when God forewarned, held and healed.
In a vision, God told Hanna he was taking her child. Seven years later, he did.
This story leads the reader through an ancestral prophecy, profound visions, and a mother’s journey through symbolisms in the Holy Land. It shares how she guided her teenage daughter through a devastating diagnosis while wrestling with God, and reveals her spiritual rebuilding of an unshakable house of faith in the aftermath of loss.
Read sample.
The Voice I Couldn’t Ignore is available at Amazon.
Book Excerpt
“A heavy blade, it comes straight at me.”
I might as well have been naked. Afraid of judgment. All this explaining felt like a confession. But the air in my chest lightened up somewhat, so I urged myself to continue.
“Slices the air like it’s on some kind of mission. With some kind of wild purpose. Always a direct aim at my line of sight. The swoosh, I can’t hear it. The whole business… all silent and invisible.”
Imagined, all in my head? I could only wish.
“I duck and bury my face.” No reason to mention how badly my hands would shake or how my shoulders could jerk about to recover from the attack. “Then nothing. There’s like—nobody—just air.”
“And just how often does this ax-head attack you?” The counselor leaned his forehead my way.
Finally, someone believed me.
But when he arched bushy brows and hovered his pen atop a page full of doodles in the thick notebook balanced on his lap, I wasn’t so sure.
“Often enough. Sporadic,” I answered anyway. “Three or four times a week. Then a month will go by, nothing.” I shrugged and ogled the exit. This was a mistake.
“And just where do these plaguing manifestations happen?” He tucked his chin into his neck and fingered an ear.
Plaguing manifestations? Nope.
I gripped the armrests, squeezed their width as though they were stress balls. He thought I was making this up. He was getting paid, so shouldn’t he at least indulge me?
The counselor crossed his legs, displaying shoes only loser-like, middle-aged men should wear. “Er, occurrences,” he rectified.
All right, I’d play. But I had to think.
“Mostly when I’m just walking. Several times, I guess, when I’m on the bus coming home. And, once, when I was driving my mom’s car. Nearly went off the road.”
It was a good question, and the answer enlightened my curiosity. Kinda odd that I was always leaving one place and heading to another. The ghostly ax-head struck only when I was in transition. Did that mean anything? Why hadn’t I realized that before?
He nodded, his note scribbling and foot wiggling in sync. “In other words, might your mind have been free to wander when walking, busing it, driving, perhaps?”
“I suppose.” Good call. Point for him. Though the jury was still out. Was someone finally taking me seriously?
“Do you believe these are attacks to harm you?”
His gaze remained on his scrawling penmanship, ignorant of his probe’s unfitting casualness.
Of course, they are. Duh! Why else would someone swing an ax at my head?
I shifted, the oversized chair feeling more like a prison. Claustrophobia was setting in. And a burn spread from where I’d rubbed my palms on the armrests. I scooted back to compose with a deep breath. “Yes, I believe they are.” He’d catch on to my monotone voice. Still, he didn’t look up.
Ah, crap. He didn’t believe me. I could barely afford this appointment. If I called it quits now, would I get billed for less time?
“Are you disappointed in yourself, Hanna?” He paused and seemingly decided on a more direct line of inquiry. “Have you ever wanted to self-harm?”
Now he peered above his glasses? Self-harm! Nope again. He wasn’t getting it—at all. An invisible force of some kind, a someone I couldn’t see, was whacking me so hard I physically jolted. I was here because of these so-called occurrences—or whatever they were. My throat tightened and responded to a hard swallow. How to reply?
A deep stomach sigh. A few scratches at the back of my neck. Then I again eyed my coat hanging on the peg. My stocking feet planted themselves with an unmistakable firmness as I pushed away from ribbed corduroy material designed to relax its occupants.
“It’s not like that,” I snipped. Beads of sweat formed, thanks to the internal warmth now climbing clear to my forehead. Despite the man’s kind promptings to please sit down and stay until his billing hour was up, it was no use.
He didn’t get me. So much for this guy.
– Excerpted from The Voice I Couldn’t Ignore by Johanna Frank, Marrow Publishing, 2025. Reprinted with permission.
Johanna Frank is a Canadian author based in Southern Ontario, where she lives with her husband, and delights in time with her children and grandchildren. Her award-winning A Lifeline Fantasy Series includes The Gatekeeper’s Descendants (Readers’ Favorite 5-Star Medalist), Jophiel’s Secret (Winner of the 2023 General Market Suspense Fiction Award and the Christian Speculative Fiction Award), and Here Lyeth (finalist for The Word Guild’s 2025 Christian Speculative Award).
In addition, Johanna has introduced a creative memoir, a deeply personal work that explores God’s abundant mystery and healing.
Known for her lyrical, imaginative style rich in symbolism and spiritual depth, she invites readers into otherworldly adventures and real-life reflections that illuminate belonging, faith, and the unseen.
“Frank, one of Canada’s emerging authors in spiritual fantasy, walks a fine line between general fantasy and faith-based fiction. Her work aims to innovate and transcend traditional boundaries, catering to a hungry market of curious readers who don’t want to be preached to but are open to exploring spiritual themes through fantasy.” – Sheri Hoyte, Reader Views
Her latest book is the powerful Christian nonfiction, The Voice I Couldn’t Ignore.
Connect with Johanna at Facebook, Goodreads, Instagram and BookBub.
