Who's Josh Cox, you say? Well, I'm still learning. He's a runner, to be sure. But I actually thought this was the blog of Ryan Hall, another Olympic runner (or soon to be). But that's a more boring story so I'll spare you.
He's also a Christian.
And not the In-name-only kind. (yes, an oxymoron to be sure) He's the real deal. And he can write. Clearly well-read.
Here's the beginning of a lengthy entry that sold me. He tells about a miracle he personally experienced. The story is amazing. Not because of the drama of the miracle but of the credibility of it. It's a killer story--one I'll tell to be sure. But I offer to you to build your faith. It sure built mine.
By Josh Cox:
I wasn’t planning on writing this. Honest. I pondered the idea during my long run with Dan [Browne] last week, again during my 15 miler over the weekend and a final time as I responded to nearly half of the 17 emails asking what I believed and why I believed it – but not even those served as this blog’s impetus. Nope. The tipping point came when I stumbled across the poem I wrote for my dad’s funeral nearly two years ago. I didn’t read it all; I couldn’t read it all – didn’t want to. Tears, therapeutic as they may be, don’t lend themselves to productivity; and because I am busier than a one legged man in a butt kicking contest I figured I would spare my wife the Dick Vermeil impression.