Seasons of Purpose by Bob Jones

The prompt for August is: Write about a season you are currently experiencing or have experienced. How did it affect your writing life?

Depending on where you live, the seasons in Canada will be shorter or longer, harsh or gentle or unique to the area’s character. In Edmonton we have two seasons: winter and construction. I imagined that was a westerner’s sense of humour until our family of four moved to Edmonton thirty-five years ago. That’s how I now describe our seasons. In eighteen months from now, Alberta will be the place I have lived more than half my life. I feel like an Albertan. Growing up in Ontario, I never paid my province of birth any mind. I was Canadian. Still am. Forever Canadian.

Politics and Hockey 

Alberta is an interesting place to live and write about. It feels like we are either under construction by the latest government misplay, or we are in winter in June, cheering on McDavid and the Oilers and feeling sorry for the Flames. I would write about politics, or politicians but everyone takes their politics very seriously in Alberta, almost as seriously as they take their hockey.

Edmonton bleeds copper and blue or orange. And there was a lot of blood the last two years in the Stanley Cup finals. 

Ukraine

At this time in my writing life, all things Ukraine are in season. 

 

It’s embarrassing to admit that I thought the war with Russia started on February 24, 2022. Sadly, this was the beginning of my education in Ukrainian history. The Russian invasion of Crimea and the eastern regions of the country in 2014 was the start of the war. How was I oblivious to that for eight years? I know Ukrainians. I pastored Ukrainians. I was invited to go to Ukraine on missions trips numerous times. None of that clicked with me. I must have been focused on Alberta politics and hockey. 

 

Now, three humanitarian trips to Ukraine in 18 months doesn’t feel enough.

Jocelyn came with me on a seven-week trip in June and July. The trip coincided with Russia’s change of tactics. June set the record for drone attacks and July exceeded it. There is no safe place in Ukraine. 

 

People were impressed that Jocelyn was eager to deliver food further towards Russia than any Canadian woman since 2022. And she did it with a smile. Our friends assured us that just being with people in the war was 90% of the benefit of us going. “People send their prayers and promises to come after the war but having someone leave a peaceful country in the summer and come to us is a priceless gift. Thank you.” The pleasure and privilege were all ours. It hardly seems enough.

Purposeful Writing 

I recently sat with a political science professor from one of our Canadian Universities. He’s a bit younger than me. His heritage is Czech where two generations of his family suffered as anti-communists. He resonates with what Ukraine is going through. We talked about how, at our ages, using our skill and experience to draw attention to the injustices against Ukraine is highly purposeful. Ukrainians are engaged in the largest and most deadly war in Europe in 80 years. 

 

There has never been a more needed moment in my lifetime for advocacy than now. I am Canadian. Canadians stand up and fight together for the freedom of others.

 

I am in a season of writing about children, churches, the trauma of war, Canadian generosity, and faith in Ukraine.

Thank you for reading. There is more at REVwords.com

The Season for Gathering Memories by Brenda Leyland

Everything has seasons, and we have to

be able to recognize when something's time has

passed and be able to move into the next season.

Henry Cloud

found on BrainyQuote.com

Little did I realize that I had been waiting for the season when I'd turn 60. Having reached this stage (successfully finishing 60 trips around the sun), I had some inner sense of having 'made it'. I'd come safely and reasonably happy through my childhood, young adulthood, and now middle age—and all that went with these various stages of life. It had been—and still is—a good life.

At the outset of this new decade, there were lots of things I didn't have to do anymore. By this time, I'd now lived the major portion of my life. I was no longer setting down roots for my future or laying foundational blocks, learning how to live the life God had given me or trying to carve out a lifestyle based on my situation, passions, and needs. But as a bit of a late bloomer—not having married until I was forty-one and never having dreamed of being a writer until I was older—I was well into my forties when I attended my first InScribe event around 2002. As the desire to write grew, I knew I wanted to write about life from my corner of the world, using my own life experiences as fodder. Somehow I came to recognize that I had had to live my longish life before I could write about it. I needed time and distance to see how God’s faithfulness, loving guidance, and grace had umbrella-ed everything that had ever happened to me. When I approached 60, it signaled something on the inside that this was the time the writer in me had been waiting for, and the season would start with a lot of rearview mirror gazing and gathering in the memories. 

I began curating my personal history, organizing the motley collection of photo albums, journals, yearbooks, scrapbooks, and multitudinous touchstone keepsakes. It was the season of gathering the fruit—stories, experiences, lessons—of my life. And putting some order to it. Based on the advice from Natalie Goldberg, or was it Julia Cameron, I created ten-year increments of 'Just the Facts' timelines, of my life from birth to present day. From there, I took the barebone facts and began creating a more detailed narrative timeline. A lifetime in a timeline. I felt so organized and orderly (smile). 

It was a such a satisfying season. Some things got wrapped up, some got sorted. Other situations remained shrouded in mystery and no answers to the whys of life but it was okay to let it be. Some things were dusted off as I paid close attention to which memories shimmered and begged to be told. Quite often bits and pieces of this material worked its way into essays for blog posts and anthologies. I self-published a magazine through Blurb that housed my simple but cherished childhood Christmas memories. Which made lovely Christmas presents one year and I was amazed at how much interest it garnered in sales from strangers.

From the start, I wanted to write about my lost dream to marry and become a mom early in life. My twenties disappeared as did my thirties; I was still single and earning my own way in an unchosen but good career for years. It wasn't the plan at all. It would be years before I'd meet my partner. I even thought about a working title for this memoir "Between a Prayer and a Proposal: Twenty Years of Waiting... and Living". I never realized until I started looking back that I'd been composing possible chapters in my head for years, ever rehearsing those touchstone experiences till they were etched in my heart of how I had learned to let go of my expectations and invite God to show me how to create his beautiful life for me. I had lived the story for years; the time had come to get it down on paper. I took a memoir writing course with Lisa Dale Norton and loved her book Shimmering Images on the topic. The first draft got done, but I never quite got up the courage, and energy, to push through and finish it. It's still a work in progress.

Turning another corner

That was several years ago now. The gathering season ended. The pressing need to collect those memories and record them was over. I just came across a line I'd jotted in my journal in 2023 which summed up my feelings at this time: "I don't want to keep living my old memories - I want to make new ones." My soul was longing to once again start looking forward and make some new memories. Some people use their retirement years to travel. I have traveled some, and I enjoy going away on holidays. Truth is, I'm really a homebody, where I'm happy in the heart of my home, near my writing desk, computer, and windows overlooking the garden. Where I can read books stacked up on shelves. And spend time with family and friends. Stay in wonderment and curiosity as I wander, wait, listen, pray.

I still want to share my life through writing... whether it's on my blog (my favourite place to write for these past 17 years), curating some of my favourite essays into small book collections, or finishing a memoir or two. I have known God's faithfulness and great grace through every stage of my life, including my writing life. Now as I edge toward my 'elder' years, a line from a song* Sandi Somers mentioned in her latest post seems such a lovely reminder: "In ev'ry change He faithful will remain". Amen.

_______________________________

Top Photo credit: Image by CongerDesign from Pixabay
*Be Still My Soul

Brenda is living her beautiful life in slower mode, having time to watch the world go by, sit in her comfy spot by the bay window, read, walk, watch the birds and clouds and flowers grow. And she enjoys writing on her blog It's A Beautiful Life and here on InScribe. She can also be found on Facebook, Instagram, and BlueSky.

 

 

Reduction by Susan Barclay

 

Image by CongerDesign@Pixabay

                                                        

 

REDUCTION

 

In this season of caregiving

I am being reduced

Cooked, simmered, evaporated

A concentrated version of myself

 

Who am I now?

I am daughter

I am mother

I am wife

 

Who am I?

What is this new flavour?

This new texture?

This new consistency?

 

I seek more of Him and less of me

Holy Spirit, come

I am jellied and trembling

When I am weak, I am strong

 

Give me this day love, joy, peace

Patience, kindness, goodness

Faithfulness, gentleness, self-control

Teach me Your ways

 

Make me lie down in green pastures

Lead me beside quiet waters

Restore my soul

Fill me with Your sacred rest

 

In this pressure cooker, sautéed

I become saltier for Christ

Taste and see that the Lord is good

His mercies are new every morning

 

This is my desire

To spend time in God’s stock pot

Take up less volume in the world

And enhance its flavour

 

Father, You are the Master Chef

The 3-star Michelin

Make of me what You will

I am Your creation

_______________________________

c. Susan Barclay, 2025. For more about Susan and her writing, please visit www.susan-barclay.blogspot.com 

 

 

Navigating Change by Sandi Somers

 

During the summer and fall after I retired I felt at loose ends. As a teacher I had always lived with autumn bringing new students, new curricula, new projects, new dreams and goals. But not this year. My old lifestyle and daily routine of going to work was behind me. Yes, I was thankful for what God had given me in the life I left behind. But now I felt adrift. 

Life gave me an ending—two endings. Mom had passed away a few months earlier, and I was still adjusting to living without her. I found great comfort in the hymn, “Be Still My Soul”, especially the part, “In every change He faithful will remain.”  

What lay ahead was an uncomfortable unknown.  Yet what could I do except carry on with my summer activities, fall gardening, other family and friend contacts, and daily responsibilities. 

There had to be something more, but what? 

In my feeling of lostness, God graciously led me to a devotional booklet, Minute Motivators for Women, and there on page 37 was a short reading. "Life is like a river,” I read. "The current will start pulling you downstream to new adventures...Ask God to get into the boat and take compete control of your life.”[i] 

With this metaphor, the Lord brought a perspective I desperately needed. I imagined myself pushing my canoe off the shore to begin paddling into the unknown. But I was not alone. While I was up front J-stroking, Jesus was my companion, the skillful boatman, steering me into the unknown waters ahead. The Lord had new plans and a special purpose for me and would faithfully point me in that direction. 

As I visualized plunging into the river, embarking on the next phase of the river of my life, I needed to trust God’s purpose and presence in every curve of the river, every eddy and swirl, every rock-infested spot, every rushing waterfall, and every storm. At other times as I followed the bends and turns, the river would open up with wide vistas and long views, where the Lord would give me a fresh vision of what lay ahead. There I would receive a renewed revelation and vigor of His purposes for me. 

In the months after retirement, the Lord resurrected my dream of writing. Now that my time was free from the daily demands of teaching, I began to write more intentionally—developing my skills and publishing more than I had in the past. Knowing I needed a  community of writers, I joined InScribe and later began a local InScribe writers’ group. Life became replete with the Lord's faithfulness in leading me into some of the most productive experiences of my life. 

I had landed on a bedrock of writing—my life now found its orientation. 

Since then, the Lord has given me other changes of seasons, other tributaries of the river of life, each accompanied by His presence and purpose.

~ ~ ~

In a change of seasons, the rhythms of life have been broken, with endings and beginnings. Acknowledge the moments of in-betweenness—the todays of unknowing. Acknowledge that our seasons of life will carry us forward like the river of time: flowing, flowing, flowing. Acknowledge that as we paddle with Jesus, one stroke at a time, we can hear God’s promise: “Behold I am doing a new thing” (Isaiah 43:13 ESV). 

Be unafraid to step into your canoe and embrace moving forward as you paddle into the unknown. The hymn, “Be Still My Soul,” will remind you that “In every change He faithful will remain.” When the Lord changes seasons, wait and watch as to how the Lord will open up His plans for you.

“Live now as well as in the days ahead in the power of Christ.”[ii]

 

Sandi Somers is an outdoor enthusiast--and is very grateful for the gift of loving nature. The description of this canoe trip came from personal experience. Her writing encourages others to pay attention to what the Lord can do in their lives and to become devoted followers of Jesus. She writes from her home in Calgary. 

Image by Black Feather

---

[i] Stan and Linda Toler, Minute Motivators for Women, (Kansas City, MO: Beacon Hill Press, 2010, 2014), 37

[ii] Stan and Linda Toler, Minute Motivators for Women, 37.

Where Am I? by Brenda J Wood

The question is 'Where am I?' and the answer is 'I do not know.'

My writing skills have all deserted me. Nary a word gets from my heart to my mind to my page. I am in the dark soul of the night (how St. John of the Cross used to describe a period of spiritual purification and intense inner turmoil that individuals experience on their journey toward God). Is that my dark soul? No idea. The phrase just popped into my mind and thus it's worth examining.

My morning pages are kaput. My journaling is even more so.
I say to myself, I might never write again.
Is this true? I certainly hope not.

BUT WHAT IF IT IS????

Writing is who I am, what I am. It is my definition of self for many years.

I take comfort from Jeremiah 36. Jeremiah dictated God's message to Baruch who read it to the King who promptly burned the scroll. Did Jeremiah say, "What a mess?" or did he say, "What a grand opportunity to do a better job this time?"

In desperation I joined FAB CHOW Summer Writers' Challenge.
Available to writers all around the world, several of us took up the challenge to write.

WRITE SOMETHING! ANYTHING! JUST WRITE!

Bobbi Cole, who currently lives and studies in Israel, called writers together to face the empty void of the empty page.

And we do. From Canada, Australia, Britain, Israel, and places galore, we agreed on a mutual time. For me, that means seven a.m. every Friday for four weeks. Our only goal is to write something. We are used to letting ourselves down, but we care not to let our fellow writers down and so we write. We show up on those Fridays with something on page or in mind ready for page.

Am I still in the dark soul period of my writing life? That remains to be seen. Stay tuned!

Top Photo credit: Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Brenda J Wood has authored more than fifty books. She is a seasoned motivational speaker, who declares the Word of God with wisdom, humour, and common sense.

Spring in Autumn by Lorrie Orr

 

This month's prompt asks us to think about seasons. Just as the created world experiences the cycle of seasons, so do humans. There are springs when fresh newness bursts within you, times of drought when all seems futile, autumns of abundance, and winters when cold austerity threatens to overwhelm. Write about a season you are currently experiencing or have experienced. How did God meet your needs during this season? How did it affect your writing life?

Blackberries hang heavy and sweet on invasive vines in every neglected school yard corner, along the streets, and in sunny open fields. Full of flavour, they make wonderful jams and sauces, and I freeze some for winter cobblers. Blackberry season reminds me of the day when I was about 12, visiting my grandparents. My grandmother invited me and my sister to go berry picking with her. I, engrossed in a book, declined. My sister went and had a marvelous time. I am not merely reminded of the regret of an afternoon with my grandmother. I am reminded of the passing of seasons and of my life. Of the loss of childhood. My life is rich and full but now, in the Autumn of my life, I want to savor the sweetness of the moments with my family, to reach past the thorns to find the juicy heart of the best.

Seasons relate to the movement of the earth in the solar system, but also to human life. Infants change to toddlers, then children, then teenagers, young adults, middle-age, young old age, and finally, old age. There are wanted and unwanted seasons of life. Sometimes our inner season does not line up with the external one. Winters can come suddenly, without warning in the midst of a summer season when all seems well. Several years ago I wrote on the InScribe blog about a winter of the soul, cold and dark. I am so glad that season has passed. 

There is a scene in Pride and Prejudice (2005) where Elizabeth Bennett (Kiera Knightly) sits on a swing in her yard. As she slowly moves back and forth, the seasons twirl around her. It's a cinematic effect I find so lovely, evoking the passing of time. In Genesis 8 God promises that "while the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, winter and summer, and day and night shall not cease." Each season brings its own beauty, opportunities, and challenges.  

Chronologically I am now in my autumn years (can it really be?). Yet I feel energy springing up in me to try new things, to publish a book or two, to dedicate myself to learning new skills, to garden with dedication, and to embrace activities I may previously not have made time for. I'm embracing this season, thankful for a healthy body and mind. Retirement means that I must be intentional about what I want to accomplish, making the most of the days given to me. I want to do that without panic and desperation, but in quietness of soul, trusting God to help me. In his poem Ode to Autumn Keats called this a "season of mist and mellow fruitfulness", filled with "all fruit with ripeness to the core." The fruit of the life I have lived is ripening now, perhaps in a process contrary to the earthly world, setting seed for newness once again. 

Lorrie Orr writes from Victoria, BC where she enjoys life with her husband and hopes that there is always a bit of springtime in her life. 

  

 

Writing Fiction with Purpose by Mary Folkerts

There’s a story burning in my gut; a story of familial pain, with cycles and circles of regret that pop up like perennial weeds, where flowers intended to bloom. It’s a story of how one generation's closet sins cast looming shadows over the next generation and generations to come, until someone steps up and says, “No more!”

Closet sins are challenging to write about, thus, they remain in the closet, stuffed in like the proverbial pink elephant that will eventually bust the hinges. It’s easier to broach difficult topics through storytelling, where, though the story isn’t factual, the reader can still relate to and learn from the character’s struggles.

I haven’t started writing this story, even though it’s been brewing for a while. There may be a few reasons for that, one being that it’s been some time since I’ve written fiction. The last few years, I have been writing poetry and devotionals, and it’s easy to just stay with the familiar. But I am challenging myself to delve into the fictional genre and see what comes of the process!

I love to read fictional stories that inspire and inform me in meaningful ways, and one such series, written by Sharon Garlough Brown, is “The Sensible Shoes Series.” It’s these books that gave me the idea to write about generational sin and its effect on families. There are so many people walking around broken, and their brokenness bleeds into the next generation. I would love to shed more light on this challenging topic, and to create a story that would be not only an interesting read, but also one where the reader could say, “Yes! I have felt this pain too! This cycle will end with me!”

Mary Folkerts is mom to four kids and wife to a farmer, living on the southern prairies of Alberta, where the skies are large and the sunsets stunning. She is a Proverbs 31 ministries COMPEL Writers Training member involved in church ministries and music. Mary’s blog aims to encourage and inspire women and advocate for those with Down Syndrome, as their youngest child introduced them to this extraordinary new world. For more inspiration, check out Joy in the Small Things https://maryfolkerts.com/ or connect on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/maryfolkerts/

Exploring a New Writing Direction by Adriana Marella-Wolfe

 

Please welcome InScribe member Adriana Marella-Wolfe today as our Guest Blogger on InScribe Writers Online.

How do I explore in a new direction with split themes or dual timelines? A split time novel must have multiple storylines in more than one time period. I am trying two time periods since I am a beginner. Dual timelines can be linear that bridges two time periods which bridges time and space.

Past publications in historical/contemporary fiction, poetry, and spiritual stories lead me to the next level. I am a late bloomer in writing. My spiritual fiction, Mystia, has been on pause. Plans to revive it are in the works. Resources navigate my path.

What have I done so far? I have self-published two spiritual books: A Time for God and A Time for Prayer; anthologies with Wascana Writers; newspaper articles in The Leader Post, Regina Sun, and North Battleford Optimist; magazine articles such as "Sisters of Charity" in FellowScript, Wascana Writers (freelance), and Saskatchewan Writers' Guild. My vision expands to a place where God uses my characters and me as instruments to connect with the reader.

What do I think will work for me? With my research at the Sherwood Village Library, the librarian finds two resources. First, one book online which I ordered—A Split in Time: How to Write Dual Timeline, Split Time, and Time-Slip Fiction by Melanie Dobson and Morgan Tarpley Smith, 2020. Three specific styles: staccato, sandwich, or sectional are recommendations. To me, staccato style is snapshots. Sandwich style is two in the present and one in the past, or the other way. Sectionals are the long version. My first attempt uses staccato and sectional. I will try staccato to refresh and add suspense. It helps me steer dual timelines.

With this resource, chapters are aligned with an ABA pattern. Present to past to present is my first try. I will weave them together. I need to reedit again to make it come alive for the reader.

The second resource from the library is The Memory House by Rachel Hauck, 2019. A split time theme and romance patterned contemporary, then historical. This book is on the way.

My InScribe writing group, with Sharon Hamilton and Sharon Heagy, aid me to identify where my spiritual fiction fits. Sharon Hamilton describes my work for Early Readers ages 5-10. She sent me to Canadian Society of Children's Authors, Illustrators and Performers (CANSCAIP). These resources have rebalanced my writing and business with positive critiques.

Illustrations are my next task. Choices are black or white, colourized, both, or none. At the conference, a cover illustration will sell a book in three seconds. I need the help of an illustrator, hopefully MaryAnn Ward to visualize my novel.

How do I incorporate business in writing? My home-based business, People of the Archangel Publications, is where I self-publish, copyedit, retreats/workshops, and author with craft/trade shows. I implement my tools into rural and urban areas booked by the librarian with the Saskatchewan Writers' Guild. God Moments is one of them by contract work.

People need to feed the spiritual side. My priest hires me to do a spiritual retreat, “From the Desert to the Promised Land” is another one of them. Biblical growth heals the wounds.

 
Social media and advertising are avenues to explore. Using the internet is new to me, since I am a people person. Instagram is the venue I use to keep track of views, followers, and promote my business. Advertisements through parish bulletins, word of mouth, and craft/trade shows are icebreakers for me. CANSCAIP was a godsend for me. I met other authors in the same field. It helped me with marketing ideas and writing a formula/synopsis for my spiritual fiction. I did not meet anyone who writes with dual timelines.

My adventure through the craft and business of writing is a teeter-totter. I will pray to God for the words to be an instrument to readers.

Adriana Marella-Wolfe is a retired teacher, wife, and mom living in Regina, most of her life. Adriana has a Bachelor of Education Degree, University of Regina, Laity - Archdiocese of Regina and People of the Archangel Publications - home-based business as a self-publisher, copyeditor, author with craft/trade shows. Historical/contemporary fiction, poetry and spiritual stories are published in anthologies, newspapers, and magazines. Adriana loves to travel, write, read, knit, and crochet.

The Gardener and the King ~ Valerie Ronald

                                                                               image credit Pixabay

I once was asked to write something for a friend’s eightieth birthday celebration. I struggled to write something meaningful, but nothing I put on paper seemed fitting. My friend was a veteran of World War 2 who suffered for years with the aftereffects of what he experienced, until he accepted Jesus Christ and found the healing and peace he longed for. He became an avid gardener who generously shared his bountiful fruits and vegetables with all those he knew.

Not long before the birthday party, the phrase “all things growing and green” popped into my mind, and I knew what I wanted to do with it. It reminded me of the quaint language of fables or fairy tales, so I wrote an allegorical story about my friend.

An allegory is a simple story in which the characters and events represent a deeper moral or abstract concept. Aesop’s Fables, John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress, and the biblical parables told by Jesus, are well-known examples of allegorical stories. I admit that I did not know a lot about allegorical writing, but with God’s help, the elements of the story came together to make a fitting gift reflecting the life of my friend.
 

                                     The Gardener and the King

There once was a king who loved all things growing and green. He would go often into his kingdom to gaze upon meadow grasses rippling in a breeze or walk through a grove of tall, whispering pine trees. He liked to stop by the orchards and vegetable farms to taste their fresh produce and spend time in village flower gardens drinking in the beautiful scents and colours. When he returned to his palace on the hill, he would look out over his fruitful kingdom and with satisfaction proclaim, “It is good.”

One day the king’s son, a brave and noble prince, was riding in the wastelands beyond the borders of his father’s kingdom. Nothing good grew there. It was a brown, desolate place where people lived unhappy lives. His father sent him there often to invite these unhappy people to come live in his kingdom, but they seemed to want to stay in their squalor, so they refused the king’s kindness.

This day, however, the prince did return with a man who had realized how fruitless his life was in the desolate lands and was willing to live under the rule of the kind king. He was given a small field and a cottage. He married a gentle woman from a nearby village, and they made a happy home together. The man wanted to do something to please the ruler who had treated him so kindly, so knowing how much the king liked all things growing and green, he planted a garden. And what a garden it was! In his garden grew tall stalks of tasselled corn, round red tomatoes, earthy brown potatoes, bunches of wine dark grapes, crisp crimson apples, and bright flowers in abundance.

The man became known as the Gardener, and throughout the kingdom gained recognition for sharing his bountiful produce. Every morning during harvest his neighbours would see him going down the lane with his cart heaped high with fresh fruits and vegetables, on his way to share what he had grown with widows and their children, the bedridden and the elderly, and anyone else in need.

In the afternoon he returned to his garden, labouring until twilight, at peace with his hands in the soil. As he worked, he would think of the kind king who had rescued him and brought him into this abundant land, and he would sing a little song of gratitude.

One year the winter rains were sparse, and the king’s land was struck with a terrible drought. There was barely enough water for people to drink, let alone water a garden. The Gardener went out to his dry, dusty garden where nothing grew, wondering sadly what he could do to help all his friends in need. He decided to do his rounds anyway.

Instead of produce, he offered his hands˗˗cutting wood, fixing broken items, visiting with the sick, and helping wherever he saw a need. But each evening he would come home to the barren patch of land that used to be his garden, wondering what the king would say when he passed by and saw no green and growing things.

The day came when the king rode throughout his kingdom to see how his people were faring. He saw the Gardener standing by his empty garden, his head bowed down in sadness

“I’m sorry, my Lord,” he said. “As you can see, I have nothing in my garden to offer you or anyone else.”

The king reached down and lifted the Gardener’s chin so he could look into his eyes.

“This is not the only garden you have sown, my steadfast Gardener. I have been in the village where I have seen the fruits of your labour˗˗widows and their children kept warm with wood you have cut, elders’ homes set right by your repairs, and the sick cheered by your visits. The fruits of your loving spirit are abundant. Well done, good and faithful servant. Because you have been faithful with a little, I will reward you with much.”

Then the king brought the Gardener and his wife to live with him in his palace, and when the drought ended, the Gardener happily tended the royal gardens for many years. Though he was now the King’s Gardener, he still grew vegetables, fruit, and flowers in his own little garden patch in the village, to share with those in need. At each humble house, he told stories about the kindness of the king and his love for his people. And he taught them the song he liked to sing when he gardened, so when the king rode down the village streets he heard joyous voices singing,

King of kindness, king of love,

From your palace high above,

You come down to walk with us,

Laugh with us, grieve with us.

Our hearts grow because we know

We are your children here below.

   

Valerie Ronald writes from an old roll top desk in Portage la Prairie, Manitoba, with her tortoiseshell cat for a muse. A graduate of Langara College School of Journalism, she writes devotionals, fiction and inspirational prose. Her purpose in writing is to encourage others to grow in their spiritual walk. 

Teachers of My Writer’s Voice by Alan Anderson

 

Preamble

Here is my spin on our prompt for July. This is a brief look at how my writer’s voice of today came about through decades. This includes memories of people who helped shape my voice. I call them the teachers of my writer’s voice.

My Teachers: Those who lit the torch to light my way and who are the ink of my pen.

My Mum and Dad

Mum and Dad were my first teachers. They helped me learn about life and were the first to introduce me to the love of Almighty God.

With the passing of time and decades after my parents immigrated with my siblings and I to Canada, I remember them like two strong Scottish fir trees. I have always considered my mum as my model for life. She lived a quiet life devoted to her family and to the Lord Jesus Christ. My dad taught me a strong work ethic, emphasizing hard work to support one’s family. He also had a strong devotion to God and to serving his church.

Miss Gordon

I was born in Scotland and lived there until my parents decided to immigrate to Canada in 1964. Miss Gordon goes down in my memory as my all-time favourite schoolteacher. She taught me for only one year when I was nine years old, but I never forgot her. Miss Gordon noticed I enjoyed my English subjects. She encouraged me in this. I credit her for my endeavours to focus on writing at an early age.

Gerry

Gerry was a boy I knew in elementary school when I started school in Canada in September 1964. I have brief and distant memories of his freckled face, and red, dishevelled hair. I also remember he was always happy because he smiled a lot. We were pals for a brief space in time.

One day at lunch, I went to visit Gerry. He had been ill and off school for a few days, and I missed hanging around with him. I knocked on the door of his house and his dad answered. I asked him how Gerry was feeling. He told me Gerry was in hospital and not well. A few days later, Gerry died from his illness. I can remember thinking, “but he was only a kid. He was my age. How could he be dead?”

Rosemary

Rosemary was a girl I knew in my first year in high school. She was the person people say could light up a room. She always smiled when she chatted with me and laughed a lot. I enjoyed being around her.

My childhood relationship with Rosemary was a brief one like my relationship with Gerry. My attraction to her was innocent, but she was one I loved being with. The last time I saw her, she laughed and giggled about something. Oh my, how I loved her giggles!

Like Gerry, Rosemary also missed school a lot. One day, as our school day began, our teacher came into the classroom. He asked all my classmates to sit at our desks. He then informed us Rosemary had died. Her cause of death was leukemia. I remember her giggling face to this day.

Their Memories

I think of my parents every day. They ignited a bright light in me to help me shine for decades. I have remembered Miss Gordon, Rosemary, and Gerry for sixty years. They are among those who lit a fire of life in me. The memories of them all nurture my “voice,” as my life as a writer continues.

 

 

Alan lives in a small village called Deroche, British Columbia, with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He enjoys walking on the dike near his home with trees all around and where he finds inspiration to write. He occasionally writes articles for FellowScript Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship blog. Alan’s website and blog is https://scarredjoy.ca.

Always Exploring by Lorilee Guenter

 

The guidebook sits open on my table. I mark places on a map, make notes, and dream of what I will experience. The list of opportunities grows. I sit and consider my options.

My notebook lays open, waiting for words. The ideas come in bits and bobs. Will it be a poem, a short story, an essay or something else? A dictionary sits nearby accompanied by a thesaurus in case I need to locate a missing word. The opportunities are many, the time is short.

In life and in writing, I am an explorer. I study and plan, then at some point I toss the plans and jump in. I have tried to stick to just one thing among the many available options. It does not work. I have preferred vacation destinations and writing styles. However, I also have a deep desire to try different things.

My curiosity has led me to declare that I am allergic to boredom. This unfortunately has led to many unfinished projects. I tried them. Some I didn't enjoy them enough to complete them. Others I started but before I finished them I was enticed by new opportunities. Is this a character flaw to be overcome or is it a character trait I need to recognise and work with?

In a world of specialists, the generalist stands out. For years I chaffed at the advice to pick a niche and excel at it. It reminds me of the advice when travelling rough rural roads: choose your rut wisely, you'll be in it for miles. I don't want to find myself in a rut that saps the vibrancy from life. Therefore, I remain a generalist. In doing so, I remain curious and engaged in a variety of activities.

Last month I wrote about my varied reading habits and how they spill over into my writing. When I read this month's theme, my first thought was: I can't write to that? What style can I research and try? Instead of trying another new thing this month, I rebelled. Instead, I paused to consider what I have learned as I've tried various styles and genres over the years.

Lesson 1: Some things will be junk. They belong in the recycle bin. This does not mean they were a failure. They were opportunities to experiment and learn. Take the lessons learned and let the rest go. I have found that a favourite line or character may get recycled into another piece of writing where they work better.

Lesson 2: Some styles are hard. This could mean it is not an appropriate style for me (or you) at this time. I never rule out returning to try again. I would love to write a mystery. I have three attempts started. Each of them was abandoned because of difficulties I don't have the ability (or inclination) to overcome at this time. I reserve the right to return to them at anytime.

Lesson 3: Sometimes I am compelled to write in a style I do not enjoy. When God prompts, it is good to trust and follow His leading. I fought with the repeated claim, "I don't write memoir." The more I fought, the more I had creative block. Once I said yes, the ideas returned and the words flowed.

Lesson 4: All writing helps improve skill. Sometimes I "warm up" my writing muscles with short exercises in different styles and genres. Poetry is a great change of pace while I work on a novel. It forces me to consider the picture my words are drawing for the reader. 

Lesson 5: As with everything in life, God is the source of all that is good. When I partner with Him, I will learn the lesson He is teaching me. I will know when to push through obstacles and when to put a piece away temporarily or permanently. He is editing my life as He informs my thoughts and helps me hone my skills. If I try to do things on my own, I fail.

Lorilee Guenter is a Saskatoon based artist and writer. Her writing stems from the many questions she finds herself pondering and from the things she observes on her wanderings. She believes both her curiosity and her creativity are gifts from God.

Two Llamas and A Horse - Gloria Guest

Two Llamas and a Horse were grazing out in the field on a bright and sunny day, when the first Llama spotted their owner getting into his pick up truck. "I wonder where he goes everyday?" he mumbled through his mouthful of grass. "Me too," said the second Llama. "I wonder where he goes?" Horse watched their owner leaving the yard and driving up over the hill. "He always comes back with something. But never anything for us," he said in his most whinnying, whiny voice. "Ya," said the second Llama, shaking his hair out of his eyes, "He never has anything for us."

Yes, that is my attempt at the beginning of a children's story for this month's blog prompt on trying a new genre. It's actually based on the two llamas and a horse that my son had out on his farm. For years it was two Llamas and two Horses, and they didn't really mix with one another. But when the one horse died, I was amazed to notice that the two Llamas took the lone horse into their company. I always wondered at their camaraderie and thought it would make a good children's story, but all I had was the title: Two Llamas and A Horse. Even though I received my certificate years ago from the Institute for Writing For Children & Teenagers, I never really pursued the genre much after that. During the course I wrote quite a number of various stories, with the only one I recall being about a blue parrot in a pet store and its interactions with the customers who came in, in particular a curious little girl who befriended him. I don't remember much else, including the plot. I don't remember my instructor's remarks but I do recall not feeling very satisfied with the story at the time.

But over the years, writing for children has always sat on a back shelf in my mind. I particularly think of it when I recall how much I loved reading as a child and some of my favorite books such as, Curious George (written and illustrated by Margret and H.A. Rey), Charlotte's Web (written by E.B. White and illustrated by Garth Williams) and so many more children's books that ushered me into the love of reading. With Charlotte's Web I am continuously amazed how the author took something as simple as a pig (Wilbur) and a spider (Charlotte); and told such a fascinating tale. Yet even though it's a simple concept, the story actually deals with some real-life, heavier concepts such as the true definition of friendship and what sacrifice can really mean. That's the thing about writing a successful children's book; it can look simple; but it's really not. It requires the ability to get down to eye-level with your young reader so as not to talk down to them, while at the same time giving them something to reach for and grow into. It also requires an astute understanding of the language of children for the age you are trying to reach, yet not too overly simplified and not too far above them. Children do need to learn new and bigger words, and the context of a story is the perfect place to teach them, yet you need a well measured approach. A child's story book is actually a masterpiece of precision along with frivolity; a child's playground mixed in with a sprinkle of knowledge. It's an exercise of fantasy and whimsy and even gibberish intertwined while also offering them a long and soulful drink to expand their curiosity. It's an energetic undertaking which is perhaps why I shy away from it.

Fantasy, in particular, feels very left wing for my brain. I'm not sure why. Maybe I don't like the blurred lines with reality or perhaps it feels too nonsensical for my realistic mind. But children love fantasy so it never hurts to learn to write in that genre if you are going to write a children's book. Even a line or two of fantastical nonsense can keep them giggling. Come to think of it, the story The Wonky Donkey (written by Craig Smith, illustrator Katz Cowley), fits the Children's Literature/Fantasy genre quite well. I laughed and laughed my way through that ridiculous, crazy story while reading it to my granddaughter. She laughed too but perhaps also at her silly grandmother. Maybe that joyful experience is why my heart turned towards the thought of a children's book and fantasy for this month's blog post. Perhaps my Two Llamas and a Horse need to do something 'Wonky'.

Horse continued staring at the hill, where their owner had now disappeared over. "Well I'm not waiting anymore to find out," he said and ended it with his loudest neigh. "Let's go." "Ya," said the second Llama, "Let's go!" Giving yet another shake of his head to get the hair out of his eyes. First Llama looked up lazily from his grazing. "Really? You're both nuts." "We're All nuts," said Second Llama, "because you started it." "Awww sheesh," said First Llama, as he moved slowly to follow Horse who was already at the gate. "Hold on, Horse," he said, "I know just what to do to break us out of here. "Come on Second Llama, we'll need your help." With that, the Two Llamas and A Horse backed up and took their hardest charge at the gate, that had needed a bit of fixing awhile ago. Llama One had a very surprised look on his face. Llama Two still couldn't see through his hair, and Horse had his ears pinned back in excitement. It was finally going to happen. He would finally find out what was over that hill. They all looked at each other and then back at the fence and then......"Charge!" yelled Llama One. "Ya Charge!" Llama Two repeated. "Ok then," yelled Horse, "Charge!" And so they did.

Gloria writes and blogs from small town Saskatchewan near the very farm where Two Llamas and A Horse lived their best lives. Sadly Horse is the last survivor of the trio but the Two Llamas live on in his memories. Gloria usually writes Memoir, Creative Non-Fiction, Devotional, Poetry, and the occasional fiction. She is more than open to some feedback on what she considers her poor attempt at a Children's Story.

Challenge Given by Carol Harrison

When I began writing, I only wrote non-fiction memoir style stories and one book. It became my comfort zone. I had no intention of branching out into other genres. Then one of my grandsons challenged me to try and write fiction – any type. He didn’t give up on checking on me. I decided to accept his challenge and attempt to write a fiction book. I did it.

Now I had two genres to play around with and I thought that would be the end of the story. I would work on the craft, learn what I could, and hopefully continue to improve. Then one of my granddaughters challenged me to attend a poetry writing workshop with her at our local library. I went with her and discovered we wouldn’t just learn about poetry but be expected to write some. I didn’t think I could fulfill this part of the challenge but what do you do but try as a grandchild waits for you to step up and keep trying.

Now maybe my family could be satisfied with the diversity of my writing. I continued to attempt more poetry, write several fiction books, as well as more memoir style stories and devotionals. I thought that should be an acceptable range.

But before my husband passed away he threw out several challenges. One was a memoir style story. Okay. I had written that genre before. But the other one would be new. He challenged me to write a Love Inspired style romance novel.

I enjoy the light reading of this style of books and had read many of them over the years. Now with Brian’s challenge fresh in my mind, I signed out stories from the library and curled up to read for pleasure and for research. I went to the guidelines for writing and submitting these stories and studied them carefully. I joined the Facebook group Write for Harlequin and found feedback from others who were published and those, like me, who might try and one day have a Love Inspired book. The writing guidelines provided the accepted formula they are looking for in each book, the word count, and the types of stories they are seeking.

Could I actually attempt this? Should I accept the challenge thrown out to me? I must admit to wanting to forget the challenge and yet it kept coming up in conversation. I started a story and finished a few chapters before getting stuck. I researched some more and came back to write a little more. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded and I put it away just before my husband passed away. I must admit it sits on my computer, unfinished. I haven’t looked at it in two years. Maybe it’s long enough to see it with fresh eyes. Will it ever get further than sitting on my computer? It depends on what the finished product is like, whether I choose to submit it or not. For now it is a venture into a new genre I had never written in before. Maybe this blog post theme will push me to go back to the waiting story and see where I’m at with it. Challenges can be good for a person. It moves them out of their comfort zone. I know it has me over the years.

Carol Harrison loves to do the reading more than writing in a different genre. Yet the research aspect of the reading is great fun. Her favourite chair at her home in Saskatoon begs for someone to curl up with a good book, a fun story, or something to make a person think.