Thank you, God, for the Tunnel! By Alan Anderson

Writing prompt: Share a story of when you found it difficult to give thanks in your writing life. What did God teach you through that experience?

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and

saves those who are crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18 NIV)

Our prompt for October caused a phantom memory from the last decade of the 1990s to revisit my mind. This post strays a bit from our prompt. The following words are about when I believed God was distant and the church I was part of didn’t care. This was a painful time of searching, of questioning and evaluating the meaning of my life. It was a time of feeling lost and not knowing where God was. My life, my world, my soul was falling apart. This time in my life also set a direction for my writing!

Entrance into the Tunnel

In this period of my life, I was working full-time to support my family. I was a co-pastor of a church that held to a firm stand on doctrine and theology. I was also studying for a Master’s degree by taking a course or two each year at seminary. There had to be more to life than all this busyness and church performance. God was not very clear in this picture. Life was imbalanced, and something had to give.

I found myself in a depression, or what I call the Tunnel! I discovered that depression was not what many Christians wanted to hear about. In my experience, they would do all they could to avoid hearing of me being in a Tunnel. Depression meant you were weak, or had wandered from God, or were out of His will! Life appeared to be populated with more judges than healers. This was a tough experience for a pastor who had to face a congregation every Sunday. My conclusion? You are on your own, dear brother!

Escape from the Tunnel

My wife, Terry, thank God, was my confidante throughout my Tunnel experience. She let me know I still had someone in my life who cared. She listened without trying to fix or ignore me. Her support was the motivation for me to ease myself out of the Tunnel and for me to write about my experience. My wife’s support and writing saved me from depression’s iron grip!

Writing was also where God spoke to me, and I could then speak of God. Sometimes, I sensed He was in the shadows of the Tunnel. He was near and had never left me, and I learned He understood depression. God was not afraid to embrace me in the Tunnel! He heard the prayers of my stammering soul.

In much of my writing, God may not be apparent to readers. God may not be apparent in depression either, but He is there! After being in darkness, light shines even brighter! This helps me to focus on what other people might experience in their lives and give them hope.

Thank God for the Tunnel! There in the dark and fog, survival in the Tunnel became possible for me when I evaluated the meaning of my life. Thanks be to God for my life, as simple as it is! I am grateful for my wife and family, for there I know those who truly love me. I am grateful for faith in God despite the human imperfections of His Church.

For readers who may relate to the Tunnel, I trust you can also relate to God because the Tunnel need not win. Even in the threat of soul-crushing depression that assaulted me, I knew God had not left me. This is the reality of my deep thanks to Him!

Here are a few humble lessons I gleaned from my time in the Tunnel to share with you.

1. Practice stillness. There is no need to rush through every day.

2. Listen to stories people may speak from their darkness. The darkness can be crippling. They may need help to find God’s light.

3. Be gentle with those in the darkness. Listen to their words even if they stumble. This may open them to hearing your quiet words.

4. We listen to show we care. Our words don’t have to be loud to make a difference.

5. My depression had a purpose. God did not leave me.

In Deroche, a small farming village area of British Columbia, Alan shares his home with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. Alan and Terry are grandparents of six grandchildren plus five grandbabies in heaven. Alan enjoys walking on the dike near his home, with trees all around and where he finds inspiration to write. In summer, however, he loves to hide in the shade from the warm summer sun. Alan is more of a friend of fall. He has occasionally written articles for FellowScript Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship blog. Alan’s website and blog are https://scarredjoy.ca. He also writes on Substack.

Goals Within My Soul by Alan Anderson

 

Writing Prompt

When I think of setting goals, whether long-term or short-term, I clothe them in a blanket of hope. As I pondered the prompt for this month, it moved me deep inside. I cannot fully explain why, but perhaps my response here will give at least some idea of what is going on inside my soul.

My Inner Landscape

A personal goal for this writer is to nurture my inner landscape to concentrate on peace, hope, beauty, and whatever things are lovely. This might sound lofty, but please allow me to explain in the rest of this post.

One of my favourite writers, the late John O’Donohue said,

“When we awaken to the call of beauty, we become aware of new ways of being in the world. We were created to be creators. At its deepest heart, creativity is meant to serve and evoke beauty. When this desire and capacity come alive, new wells spring up in parched ground; difficulty becomes invitation and rather than striving against the grain of our nature, we fall into rhythm with its deepest urgency and passion. The time is now ripe for beauty to surprise and liberate us…” ¹

I appreciate John O’Donohue’s statement, so included it as part of one of my goals. I pray, dear readers, you will accept my reasoning for highlighting O’Donohue’s words.

I am disheartened at the direction our culture in the West has taken. Especially in the last ten years or so, there has been such a division among people. For instance, people have invented the term “hate speech” to use when they disagree with each other. I just don’t understand such flawed reasoning. People act “offended” if something opposes their sensitive feelings. Lord have mercy on us.

Beauty, loveliness, and peace appear overshadowed by misguided views on life. A society where everyone does that which is right in their own eyes curtails even hope.

I pray to God I will no longer follow the foolishness of the world, but in my small way, will be an agent for change. May groups like InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship allow beauty to surprise and liberate us, to the glory of God.

With the previous statements in mind, I come to another goal of like mind.

Social Media

I plan to reduce my involvement with so-called “social” media platforms. To me, scrolling on Facebook and the like has no value or edification. I can stay in contact with people I care about through email, or even better, personal contact. I hope that I can stay in contact, for instance, with InScribe members through email. I don’t know of InScribe members close to where I live, but perhaps in time more will be up and coming.

My Website and Substack

For the sake and purpose of much of my writing, I will develop more of a presence on my website and Substack. Lord willing, Substack will remain useful to serious writers.

Self-advocacy

Self-advocate for myself regarding chronic health conditions I now live with. I need to maintain good health to move my writing forward. A reason for this self-advocacy is that I conclude through experience not everything health professionals tell me is helpful.

Grandparent grief

I also intend to devote more of my writing projects to being a voice for grandparent grief. For instance, I hope to publish my book, Forgotten Voices: Poetic Utterances of Grandparent Grief and Hope, in 2027.

A Need for personal interaction

A goal for the year 2027 is to make regular connections with InScribe writers and other writers locally. I will also ask my local church community if anyone would like to be part of a church-based writing group.

Orthodox Christian Church

Write an essay on the conversion of my wife and I to the Orthodox Christian Church and post it on Substack. After forty years as Baptists, being embraced by the Orthodox Church has come with no regrets. The depth of this ancient Church is a balm to our souls, and we rejoice now even more in the faithfulness and grace of God. Glory to God in all things!

InScribe

I thank God for being part of InScribe for the past eleven years. I look forward to continuing with you all as we write and offer ministry to each other and our readers.



Citations
¹O’Donohue, John (Beauty: The Invisible Embrace, NY: Harper Collins Publishers, 2004), 7.

 

In Deroche, a small farming village area of British Columbia, Alan shares his home with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. Alan and Terry are grandparents of six grandchildren plus five grandbabies in heaven. Alan enjoys walking on the dike near his home, with trees all around and where he finds inspiration to write. In summer, however, he loves to hide in the shade from the warm summer sun. Alan is more of a friend of fall. He has occasionally written articles for FellowScript Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship blog. Alan’s website and blog are https://scarredjoy.ca. He also writes on Substack.

A Season To Slow Life Down by Alan Anderson

 

“For everything there is a season,

and a time for every matter under heaven:” 

Ecclesiastes 3:1 (ESV)

Words from my doctor

A couple of years ago, while at a doctor’s appointment, my doctor made an interesting comment. He said, “Alan, you are getting older. Your body is like an old steam train engine that is wearing out.” I couldn’t argue with him, and it was something I needed to hear.

In a recent appointment with the same doctor, and after listening to my health concerns, he cautioned me to “slow things down.” I knew I had to take time to process what he meant. He suggested there are responsibilities in life I must now allow other people to take care of. This is a new season for me.

I know that “to everything there is a season,” but there are times I wish this was not so. I enjoyed and poured a lot of energy into helping people over the decades, but that season has passed. Taking on projects around the house was something I also enjoyed, but that’s no longer possible as it once was. This too is a new season for me.

Words from my priest

In November 2025, my wife, Terry, and I began attending an Orthodox Christian church in another town than the one we had been part of for eight years. Driving to our new church is a less stressful drive than the one before. Health issues were the motivation for this change.

In a conversation Terry and I had with our new priest prior to our transition to our new church, we knew we were making a wise move. He confirmed with us we were in a new season of our lives, and our new church was part of this season. He affirmed our move with his words, “You are more than welcome to be part of Holy Apostles Orthodox Church. We will love having you with us.”

This new season

In this new season of life, I now concentrate on the energy it takes to navigate my life at a slower pace. These days employment is not a concern. My children are all grown up and have their own families. Terry and I have a healthy marriage. Charlie, our beloved poodle, although growing older, is a beautiful companion for us. We enjoy good friends and don’t allow negative people to interfere in our lives. We also enjoy and love our church family.

I reserve a lot of my energy these days for my writing. My health challenges have indeed slowed me down, but I still have lots of energy for what I want to write. I also pray to become more skilled as I write in this new season that has embraced my soul.

This present season has drawn me into a more contemplative style of expressing the words I write. The more activist views of my younger years have given way to how I might help people be content with their lives. I leave the results of this to God. I realize I may never have an influence in the world, but I pray at least in my circle of people, including my readers, they will know they matter.

To everything there is a season, and God is aware of each one of them, for He is with us in every matter under heaven. As I look towards the coming winter season of my life, I also seek the glorious season of the Son, the season that has no end.

 

 

In Deroche, British Columbia, Alan shares his home with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. Alan and Terry are grandparents of six grandchildren plus five grandbabies in heaven. Alan enjoys walking on the dike near his home, with trees all around and where he finds inspiration to write. In summer, however, he loves to hide in the shade from the warm summer sun. Alan is more of a friend of fall. He has occasionally written articles for FellowScript Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship blog. Alan’s website and blog are https://scarredjoy.ca. He also writes on Substack.

Hear the Forgotten Voices by Alan Anderson

 

"[B]ut Jesus said, “Let the little children come

to me and do not hinder them, for to such

belongs the kingdom of heaven.”

Matthew 19:14 ESV

A Brief Background

Since retiring from my work as a chaplain in healthcare in 2017, God has blessed me as a writer. I had the honour of contributing stories and poems to four books plus a series of articles to FellowScript Magazine. This honour continues as I am privileged to be a monthly contributor to our InScribe Blog.

My intent in stating this is not pride, but thankfulness toward God and the writers who encouraged me. I have yet to publish my first solo-authored book. Lord willing, I will.

I wrote my InScribe blog post of June 22, 2021 with a particular group of people in mind. They are grandparents who grieve the death of their grandchildren. They will also be the focus of my first book, Lord willing. Grandparents who grieve continue to be those whose voices have gained little attention from society. The idea for this book germinated in 2017 when I co-authored the book, Good Grief People, published by Angel Hope Publishing.

A Determined Focus

In June 2008, when my wife and I attended the Scottish Highland Games event in Coquitlam, B.C., our daughter told us devastating news. While bagpipes played in the background and Scottish dancers entertained nearby, our daughter approached us. She said, “Mom and Dad, I lost my baby.” The news stunned us into silence. We hugged her as she cried.

My daughter “lost” four babies altogether. One of my daughters-in-law also suffered a pregnancy loss. Numerous women, both young and mature, have recounted tales of infant loss to me over the years.

A common theme I gleaned from grandparents, especially grandmothers, is that they believe they must be “strong” for their families. Their view is by being strong, they will not give further upset to the grieving parents or other family members. They remain strong, but in reality, suppress their own honest expressions of their grief. Grandparents tell me they grieve in private, and their voices are often silent. People do not hear silent voices.

Regardless of what our grief-fearing or grief-evading culture says, to be “strong” in our grief is to express it in an honest manner. Grandparents possess the right to express sorrow openly. Society and especially other family members must not forget their voices and their utterances of grief.

A Voice Forgotten No More

In my experience of listening to grandparents who grieve over the death of their grandchildren, their words are poetic utterances. They are honest, although few in their expressions of their grief.

The original title of the book was Plant Them a Garden: A Reflective Work of Grief, Faith, and Poetry. A number of InScribe members liked the title, as did I. As time went on, however, and I heard more grief stories, I kept hearing, “We don’t have a voice.” After consulting with a few people, including other writers, I proposed another title. I am calling the book Forgotten Voices: Poetic Utterances of Grandparent Grief. This title is direct and concise.

While scanning through book topics and titles on Amazon.com and Amazon.ca I noticed there is not a lot written about grandparent grief. I pondered this reality, but the words, the voices of grandparents, encouraged me to persevere. Such platforms as Amazon seem to say grandparent grief is not marketable. Regardless, I focus on the voices of grandparents. Society overlooks their mourning and forgets their voices. I don’t.

I pray that the forgotten voices of grieving grandparents will soon reach someone's ears. Someday, only God knows when, I'll see my five grandchildren in heaven. Until then, I hope and pray, in my little way, to be one voice of those too often forgotten.

In Deroche, British Columbia, Alan shares his home with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. Alan and Terry are grandparents of six grandchildren plus five grandbabies in heaven. Alan enjoys walking on the dike near his home, with trees all around and where he finds inspiration to write. He has occasionally written articles for FellowScript Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship blog. Alan’s website and blog are https://scarredjoy.ca. He also writes on Substack.

The Beauty of Human Touch in my Writing Voice by Alan Anderson

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable,

whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is

commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything

worthy of praise, think about these things.” Philippians 4:8

The Beauty of Interactions

The prompt for this month asks, “What does creating beauty mean to you and your writing?” The posts throughout this month are examples of beauty in themselves. So much so it would be wonderful to include them in a book on writing as beauty. For now, however, I humbly offer my contribution to our InScribe blog.

While reading through Beauty: The Invisible Embrace, and loving the entire book, the following words from page 12 struck me:

"When we hear the word ‘Beauty’, we inevitably think that beauty belongs in a special elite realm where only the extraordinary dwells. Yet without realizing it, each day each one of us is visited by beauty. When you actually listen to people, it is surprising how often beauty is mentioned. A world without beauty would be unbearable. Indeed the subtle touches of beauty are what enable most people to survive."

I entitled this blog post, “The Beauty of Human Touch in my Writing Voice,” because the beauty of interactions with people fuels most of what I write. These interactions have filled my life with whatever is lovely, significant memories, experiences, kindness, love, and wisdom.

Interactions with people over decades have also given me the opportunity to help mature what John O’Donohue would call my inner landscape. One’s inner landscape is how our outer and inner worlds intertwine.

For anyone interested, here is a link to a discussion of an interviewer talking with John O’Donohue on the inner landscape. https://onbeing.org/programs/john-odonohue-the-inner-landscape-of-beauty/?ref=antoinebuteau.com

A Continued Development of My Writing Voice

Perhaps it is because I am older now, but I see a need within me to opt for a quieter and slower-paced life. The landscape of the world around me is too noisy, rushed, and busy. I need to clear my inner landscape of events in the world that distract the birth of my words.

I work hard at developing my writer’s voice. In December 2025, I wrote a brief message to honour people in my life who influenced and shaped me as a man and a writer. They are those who were and are instrumental in the development of my inner landscape, how I interact with life, etc. Please allow me to share this with you.

They were family members, friends, and acquaintances. The world shone brighter and did not seem so cold because of their presence. They gave me treasured companionship and comfort. Holding grudges was a weakness they did not share. They mentored me and taught me what matters in life; they taught me of beauty.

When we were together, I could feel their warmth and loving presence. They taught me the preciousness of the moment. Memories of these dear ones are why there are often tears in my words as I nurture my inner landscape.

I can no longer feel their touch or embrace them, but I can live for them. Oh, how I would love to have one more of their hugs. I cherish unique hand-holding memories with these dear ones; time will not erase. These loved ones still matter. They let me know how special human touch is. I will honour and cherish them for the rest of my life. The world will know of their love in the way I live, love, and write.

The beauty of human touch, whether physical or emotional, continues to allow my writer’s voice to flourish. There will come a time when my writing ends. Until then, I will endeavour to write words that hopefully offer a sense of beauty, a beauty where people will know they are not alone.

Dear readers and writers, allow your inner landscape to birth words of beauty, offering to the world whatsoever is lovely.

 

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 has occasionally written articles for FellowScript Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship blog. Alan’s website and blog are https://scarredjoy.ca. He also writes on Substack.

 

My Places to Write by Alan Anderson

 

Physical Places

I write most often at home in the front bedroom and always with the curtains open. Morning is my preferred time of day to write, and I never write in the evening. Home is where I am most comfortable writing, and perhaps the familiarity of home adds to a sense of belonging as the words flow.

I also enjoy writing in a local coffee shop in the company of other people. I don’t, however, interact with them, but I can write as if alone. There is something about the atmosphere of the coffee shops I am attracted to that allows me to concentrate and write with focus.

A Different Perspective

As I developed this blog post, thoughts kept going through my mind about a different perspective of “place.” I kept thinking of the perspective of one of my all-time favourite writers, John O’Donohue. With our Celtic backgrounds, I am drawn to his words as a life-giving drink of water. I resonate with his term, “inner landscape.”

The Place of My Inner Landscape

My favourite place to write is a place inside me where my mind and heart meet. In time, my soul engages, and my writing receives my embrace. This is my inner landscape, a term I first read about in books by the poet John O’Donohue. O’Donohue explores the inner landscape in books like Anam Cara and The Inner Landscape. Lord willing, I will write more about the inner landscape in a future post.

This inner landscape is the place where I absorb life within me and around me. This place, where the joys, sorrows, experiences, and memories of my life proclaim who I am. Within this place, my poems and stories are born.

I have heard writers say they like to write for several hours per day. Energy and concentration are my fuel for writing. My approach is based on the energy available to me from my inner landscape. For instance, my energy level one day might be higher than the day before. In such a case, I might write for three hours, where the day before might have been for one hour. This approach works for me and helps me accomplish writing projects.

Highway traffic, shopping malls crowded with people and impersonal stores, all remind me I cannot write amid noise. These crowded spaces drain my energy and frustrate my creativity. For me, such noise drowns out the words within me.

My wife, family, my church, strangers, the world around me, help form and bring to life the words that make their way onto a page. This inner landscape, this sacred space from which I write, is where I hear God’s still small voice. This still small voice requires I listen. If I listen, I will focus on what I am to write.

The acknowledgement of the reality of my inner landscape sets my writing free. My imagination can bounce all over the place, but my reflective nature allows imagination to be brought into focus. I don’t just write and hope for the best. The words that come to life express what I want to say to my readers.

My inner landscape is with me whether I write at home or in some more public physical location. This inner landscape, this place where I write from, has formed my writer’s voice and writes the story of who I am.

 

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 has occasionally written 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. He also writes on Substack.

Keep Our Words Alive by Alan Anderson

 

Our writing prompt for this month’s blog posts asks:

How do you fill your creative container? How do you strengthen your craft? What writing resources do you use? Share books and publications, quotes, podcasts, and other resources you’ve found helpful.

So far this month I have learned a lot from our other members. I hesitate to think about what I can contribute. Yes, indeed, I often lack confidence in how I answer writing prompts like those for this month.

Nature, Solitude, and Charlie

When my creative container needs to be filled, there are a few resources I hold close. On sunny days, the first thing I do is have a quiet time of meditation outside. I leave all my writing materials inside where they can await me.

While outside, I often sit on the porch with Charlie, my poodle pal, and we watch the local birds who share the backyard with us. An extra fun time is when hummingbirds zoom around and do aerial acrobatics. They seem to have no cares in the world. Watching the birds provides all the creative recharge I need for at least this part of my day.

On less sunny and warm days, I sit inside at home in a spot where there are few distractions. I like to be alone as I mull over writing projects. Chronic health issues I live with have played havoc on my concentration; therefore, I find periods of solitude help me focus and recharge.

There are times of solitude, both inside and outside, where I sit in a comfortable spot just to be. Charlie is often with me. Over the years he has taught me the fine art of curling up on a mattress with no agenda. He is the master of the mattress curler.

I write in solitude most of the time: no music, no chatting with others, no noise, just the words jumping out of my head onto a page. I read over the words with no compulsion to edit or change anything for the moment.

Solitude gives me the time I need to reflect on what I am to write, as the words caress a page. In solitude I am never lonely, but sometimes I crave the company of others. When I visit a local coffee shop, I love watching people. I don’t have to chat with them, but I enjoy seeing how they interact with each other. I don’t know of many writer types in my area, so I rely on online contact with writers. Sometimes when I chat with writers online, Charlie sits on my lap and once again curls up and snoozes.

Keep Words Alive

When my creative container needs to be refilled, I turn to the creative work of other writers to help keep my words alive. Our InScribe Writers Online blog is my immediate go-to resource. I can always trust the writers who post there, and I am confident in their skills.

I joined Substack a couple of months ago and noticed a few of our InScribe members are on Substack as well. I hope this platform helps to keep my words alive.

A few years ago, I found an interesting and interactive website for poets from the University of Pennsylvania. The website is https://modpo.org/. This group offers helpful ways to improve and develop one’s poetry skills. There are also courses one may enroll in to strengthen one’s skills. Dear readers, please take the time to look around this website.

My InScribe friends, thank you for the encouragement you offer to us all as we endeavour to develop our craft and keep our words alive. Together we can be a voice of hope to the world. Lord have mercy!

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 has occasionally written 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. He also writes on Substack.

Keep Writing by Alan Anderson

 

The Why to keep writing

The writing prompt for March has been a brain scratcher for me, but I finally settled on how to respond. After being a contributor to our blog for ten years, I have received a lot of encouragement from our group. Welcome advice and counsel from more experienced writers have also accompanied this encouragement. The title of this blog post might seem simple to many of you, but it summarizes my response to our prompt.

We, as writers, receive the words, “keep writing,” as an encouragement to persevere in the craft we all love. We can never underestimate our love for the written word. This love is a powerful motivation for us to continue developing our writing skills.

My personal response to the Why

Lord willing, I hope not only to keep writing, but to write well. I pray the words I write will outlast my life here on earth. With the years seeming to pass at a quick pace, I realize there will be a year that will be my final one on earth.

The past year, and into 2026, has challenged me with health conditions in no hurry to end soon. My writing energy has suffered as well. Concentration to keep writing is now a daily challenge. This is where perseverance becomes part of my writing endeavours.

I keep writing as part of who I am, the way God created me to be. Indeed, I am not everyone’s go-to guy for such things as writing advice. In fact, I shy away from giving advice most times. I would rather listen to a person hoping to help them come to their own decisions.

I keep writing to offer hope to people, and perhaps this is a strength of my words. As writers, we don’t have to go far to find people in need of hope. I write to let them know they matter. I hope to assure people someone cares for them. Hope to remind them God loves them, as do I; therefore, I keep writing. There is no reason to stop.

I keep writing with words wrapped in prayer. This is pleasing to God. He loves us to pray for each other. InScribe Christian Writers' Fellowship has a special place in my life; therefore, I pray our ministry together makes the world a better place. I conclude with a prayer I wrote in a previous post for those who are serious writers and InScribe in particular.

Bless our words, O Lord,

as they make their way into the world.

Help them touch hearts,

Heal minds,

Blanket souls in eternal love.

Allow our words, O Lord,

To speak long after we have gone to our blessed hope.

May they live as seeds of Your love.

  

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 has occasionally written 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. He also writes on Substack.

To My Younger Self by Alan Anderson

 

I don’t have an abundance of fond memories of my childhood. Years would crawl by before I realized God was not a Great Tormentor in the sky. My imagination allowed me to create adventures to escape and run away from certain moments in life. Glory to God, I came to be aware of the gift and beauty of life, including my life.


Dear Alan,

Your early years in Scotland revealed your shyness, self-doubt, and a desire to escape those with loud voices. In time you would learn to use your imagination through writing to turn away your fears. You also turned to people who helped shape the man you would become.

Standout Memories

Do you remember when you were seven or eight years old, there was an upset at home, and you wanted to run away? You ran out of the house, not knowing where you would run to, then realized something else. The weather was stormy, and thunderclaps scared you. You thought the thunder was God being angry with you for running away.

When you finally went back home, no one realized you had left. Your family thought you had just gone outside for a while. This caused you to think you did not matter. Mum, however, did notice and consoled you as only she could.

Remember the old man from our neighbourhood who took his own life. His death was too much for you to process. When you asked Mum why he did such a thing, she said amid her own sadness that, “he was lonely.” You will never forget her sorrowful words nor the old man’s death. As you grow in years and mature in life, the old man will be your role model for people who suffer. Mum will be your role model for compassion.

Another impactful memory is your unending love for a teacher named Miss Gordon. Miss Gordon let you know you mattered, and she took the time to encourage you in your schooling. You will write about her when you get older to let people know of her beautiful compassion. 

https://inscribewritersonline.blogspot.com/2015/09/miss-gordon-oh-how-i-loved-you-by-alan.html

A delightful memory planted forever in your soul is of you and one of your brothers wandering in a field near the Grampian Mountains in Scotland. You walked through a field covered with purple heather and fragrant flowers. This gave you such pleasure and a time for you to rest your mind from your inner turmoil. You saw and felt God’s creation and realized His love. This allowed you to breathe in a calmness you had never found before.

Words of encouragement as you grow older

As years go by and you become a man, your love of quiet places will be one of your strengths. You will never lose your practice of embracing nature, God’s creation. As you get older, you will continue to thank God when the trees you walk by seem to embrace you. You will also love solitude and places that allow you to sit in peace and write.

As decades go by, you will develop your writer’s voice. Write well and often, even when health challenges settle on you as you reach your older years. Never compromise your voice for the sake of popularity or wealth as the world sees it. Remember Mum, Miss Gordon, and the old man, for they were the seeds of your writing and compassionate words.

Keep in mind the heart and actions of the Lord Jesus:

“When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” (Matthew 9:36 NIV)

Alan, for as long as you can show this compassion in how you live and through the words you write.

 

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 has occasionally written 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. He has also begun to write on Substack.

From Generation to Generation by Alan Anderson

 
(Out of respect for my son and daughter-in-law, I cannot name or show a photo of my granddaughter.)

"Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,

the fruit of the womb a reward."—Psalm 127:3

"Grandchildren are the crown of the aged,

and the glory of children is their fathers."—Proverbs 17:6

Family Closeness

One of my sons and his family live about one hour away from my wife, Terry, and me. He and his wife have one daughter. We enjoy a close relationship with them.

My granddaughter and I have fun being together. One thing we do is tell dad jokes. I tell dad jokes, and she rolls her eyes as her reaction to the jokes. Every time I am with her, I bring dad jokes; she braces herself and gets ready with her eye rolls.

My granddaughter is a writer in the making. She is a creative child and has tremendous self-awareness for her young age. Often when we get together, she will inform Terry and me of a song she has written or a story she has read or is writing. What a thrill it is to be welcomed into the mind and heart of a young creative.

Joint Journaling

A new writing project I am excited about is one where I will step up my journaling in 2026 for a special reason. If it all works out, I will be journaling with my ten-year-old granddaughter. The idea is for us to have a journal each with which we will make entries in. I don’t want to make it complicated for her, but here, in point form, is what I have in mind.

1. We each have a journal to write in. When something interesting in life happens, we write it in our journals.

2. When we visit each other, we exchange journals. We then make an interesting entry in each other’s journal.

3. At our next visit, we exchange journals again and repeat #2.

4. A goal is for us to continue our journal entries throughout the years.

5. If this idea works, we will read each other’s entries as if we are chatting with each other.

6. In time, my granddaughter will have a written record of our lives together. When I am in heaven, she will have memories to hold.

From Generation to Generation

I am gleaning a lot of great ideas for our journal while reading the posts for this month. Our blog contributors add so much to help me in my calling as a writer. I know my journaling efforts will be even more fun and fulfilling from their insights.

Both of my grandmothers died before I was born. My grandfathers died when I was a young boy. Through the years I have thought of what it might have been like if I had known my grandparents.

I would like my grandchildren to have wonderful memories of their grandparents. My youngest granddaughter is the grandchild who resonates most with me as a writer. Her young age is something I keep in mind; therefore, we will go slow as we begin our journal together. I will continue to encourage her throughout her young writer years. I hope and pray she will continue in our generational love of words.

When my days as a writer are over, and I lay my pen aside, I pray my granddaughter will see through our journals that my love for her abides.

 

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 has occasionally written 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.

Cancer at Christmas Remembered by Alan Anderson

 

Memories of Cancer 2017

Readers of my blog posts might see a resemblance to a post I wrote in December 2022. You might be new to my posts, however. I pray the memories I revisit in this post bring comfort to anyone in need of hope. As I begin, here is a poem I wrote in 2022 as I remembered Cancer at Christmas 2017.

 

Cancer At Christmas: a husband’s poem for his wife

By Alan Anderson

November 3, 2022

The news is more than sad, but this year

we celebrate Christmas,

not cancer.

I will be honest in my heart,

share cries and whimpers,

feel numb,

shake a fist at heaven.

My head held up only by my hands,

offers you, my love, who brings me this news,

a face wet with tears,

frozen fear.

Why God, I ask, would there be cancer

at Christmas? Help me, I pray, help

my darling.

My love—you amaze me.

Yes, you live.

Yes, we live.

We hang decorations, drink eggnog,

romance each other, your words slipping

out like healing hands, touching me,

but it’s me who wants to support you.

We celebrate Christmas,

not cancer.

In this together,

we hold on.

Never let go of the moment,

any moment.

This illness will not last forever.

We have peace, stillness.

So, my love, sleep like a baby

in the arms of He who loves us.

God is not dumbfounded,

by this fiend,… cancer.

Joy is our companion.

We weep, yes,

Yet we rejoice. We are not alone.

Immanuel, God with us,

Is unseen yet present.

Let Him love us.

Let me hold you, my love, you, not cancer.

This year,

We celebrate Christmas.

Cancer News Memories

The prompt for this month’s post states, “December is a month filled with story, the story of God reaching down in love. This month’s prompt asks you to share a story about Christmas. It can be funny, poignant, sad, or inspirational.”

As I read over and pondered our writing prompt, memories of November 2017 flooded my mind. I took this also as a prompt to revisit my December 2022 blog post. In my experience after hearing news of my wife’s cancer in 2017, three words from the cancer surgeon live in my mind.

When the surgeon stated these three words, “You have cancer,” to my wife, Terry, in October 2017, my first thought was, “No, not again!” Her first experience with cancer occurred when our children were still toddlers. We didn’t know what to expect then, nor did we in 2017.

Christmas 2017 came with a gentle embrace of a peace that passes all understanding. We also expected in January 2018, Terry would undergo uterine cancer surgery.

Memories of Healing

I will remember January 8, 2018, forever. Terry had her surgery on that day to arrest her uterine cancer. Her surgeon was a compassionate healer. Prior to the operation, he informed me it would take anywhere from forty-five to ninety minutes. Thanks be to God; Terry’s surgery lasted only thirty-five minutes. She has been cancer-free now for almost eight years, and we thank God for His love and mercy on us.

A Reflection to Share with You

In times of personal struggle, it helps to know we are not alone. I am conscious of the possibility someone reading this post might be going through cancer or some other life-changing experience right now. May God show His mercy, love, and grace to you.

Terry and I know what it is like to stay awake at night wondering what the outcome of this experience will be. Please know this. We are here for you to offer comfort, even though miles separate us. Message me if you need someone to listen without trying to fix you. We all need someone sometimes.

You are not alone. Your illness, your tears, do not take God by surprise. Dear ones, not even cancer can separate us from the love of God. 

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 has occasionally written 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.

If You Must Write, You Must Write by Alan Anderson

 

“Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.” I Thessalonians 5:11 (ESV)

Words of Encouragement from the Past

In his book, Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke answers questions in reply to young poet Franz Xaver Kappus, beginning in 1903. The book composed of a series of ten letters Mr. Kappus wrote to Mr. Rilke is a treasure of wisdom and insights. In the first letter, Mr. Kappus asks if his poems are “any good.”

Here is part of Mr. Rilke’s answer:

“There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple, “I must,” then build your life in accordance with this necessity…” (Rilke, Rainer Maria, Letters to a Young Poet, Merchant Books, 2012, p 14.)

You Must Write!

Writer dear ones, do you ever become discouraged in your calling as a writer? Has it ever crossed your mind to put your pen in a drawer and leave it there? Are there times you want to shut down your computer and ignore your words, your paragraphs, your stories, your plays, or messages, and forget about it all?

Here is a thought to contemplate. If you did all mentioned in the previous paragraph, who would collect your pen or restart your computer, or set your words free?...No one!

You see, Your pen knows you. Your computer awaits your ability to exercise its keys. With eager anticipation, your words await release to make the world better.

Words flowing from the creativity God has given you are your words. As a writer who is a Christian, what message do you have in your mind and heart? Give serious thought to this message and write it down. Bring this message to life on a page. Gather these words and set them free into the world.

We Must Write

Dear InScribe writers, every morning when you wake up, you do so with a writer’s view of the world. We are world watchers. Through our words, we can also be world healers. This healing comes about through words eager to encourage people to let them know they are not alone.

In this world of too many dark seasons swarmed by frigid misty days, our words shine bright and point the way to the Light. Consider the call we received by the grace of God and how He has gifted us to write.

Although separated by miles, we are in this world together. We are involved in a shared ministry. We learn from and encourage each other in a common cause. We are called by God to write; therefore, we must!

A Prayer to Encourage

To all my writer friends and others who want to make a difference through the written word:

Allow your words and actions to touch the sacred. See the beauty amid confusion and bring it to life. Breathe in peace. Breathe out anything that would distract you from who you are as a writer. May your presence shine! 

 

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 has occasionally written 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.

A Personal History of Rethink and Presence by Alan Anderson

 

Oh, my word, the posts this month are pure inspiration and encouragement! In all humility, I cannot add to the experience and suggestions already shown by our blog writers. I can but offer a brief consideration of how a “rethink” sparked my writing.

My Rethink History (Well, at least some of my history)

A Merriam-Webster definition of “rethink” notes, “to consider again especially with the possibility of change or reversal.” This definition fits much of my life. Please allow me to flesh this out.

From my first year at school until I graduated from high school, I never thought I fit in. I always had friends, but I also thought there was something different about me. I struggled with subjects like math, science, and languages, yet I did well in English. Even when I would go to math teachers for help, the concepts never sank into my brain. I felt like a complete reject.

In time, over the years of school misery, two teachers stand out as those who gave me hope. These teachers, Miss Gordon and Mrs. Horne, showed me how to rethink my young life. They taught me through informal one-on-one chats I didn’t have to be like other kids. They let me know I had a place in this world.

At home, I liked to make up stories and use my imagination. I was a shy boy, and my timidity caused me to hide my stories in case my parents or siblings would find them. I was afraid of being made fun of. The only thing I could think of was I would discard what I wrote. I threw my stories away.

Years later, in my teens, the counsel of Miss Gordon and Mrs. Horne helped me discover my love for writing. I rethought my writing and my life. I enjoyed writing essays and always felt a thrill when I received “A” or “B” on my work. When I got home from school, I would even inform my mum of my good marks.

The early encouragement from Miss Gordon and Mrs. Horne motivated me through my university years. I look back in amazement after I completed a master’s degree and thank God for these two teachers. They were a brief but strong presence in my life.

Rethink and write, then write again

I love to rethink my words after my first drafts. A norm for me is if I come to a goofy idea I don’t need to rethink, my words giggle at me. I hear these giggles in my head and words saying, “You don’t have to rethink or revise? Yeah, right, get back to work!” This is enough motivation to take out a notebook or turn my laptop on and get back to work. Revision is a must!

Presence and Voice

Here is a helpful statement from an experienced writer I read while I prepared to write this month’s post. The context of the statement is in the revision of poetry, but I suggest is helpful in other genres.

"No matter how you write, poorly or well, a reader will sense a presence. It’s your job as you revise to think about the presence you’re communicating. What will the reader think of the person who comes through the words, and how can your reader’s assessment be directed and controlled? A great part of the poem’s effect on its reader has to do with presence." (Kooser, Ted, The Poetry Home Repair Manual, University of Nebraska Press, 2005, p. 33.)

When I write, I always hope to show my presence or voice through my words. The presence and voice I project will hopefully present readers with a sense of who I am as a writer.

There you have it, my friends. My contribution to our October 2025 InScribe blog post. Dear InScribe blog friends, you will never know how inspirational you all are to me.

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 has occasionally written 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.

Our Words Are Part of Us by Alan Anderson

 

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness

for his name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord

forever.

Psalm 23 (ESV)

Our writing prompt for September asks, “How has your writing life progressed thus far in 2025? Are you encouraged to move ahead?” The positive ring of the prompt caught my attention right away and caused me to ponder what I would write as a response.

Has my writing life progressed?

Yes! One sign of my writing having progressed is this blog. This is my tenth year of contributing to our InScribe Writers Online Blog. Much of the progress in my writing is because of encouragement from other InScribe members. This progress encourages me not to cease my quest to become a talented writer.

I know my writing has progressed by people who read my poetry and told me they feel the words. This is not a cause to brag but to thank the Lord for His mercy through life-giving hope.

Am I encouraged to move ahead?

Yes! I say yes because I must. I must move ahead to accomplish a labour of love I hope to offer people. Please allow me to explain.

Encouraged to be a Voice

I have mentioned the book I am writing in a few past posts on this blog. The book is primarily a collection of poetic words dedicated to grandparents who grieve the death of grandchildren. In my conversations and correspondence with grandparents and parents who grieve, they have noted grandparents need a “voice.” I continue in my writing as a step of faith that my words will help to be such a voice.

This has not been an easy book to write, and I am glad for this. The emotional challenges I have experienced are fuel for moving ahead. Interactions with those who grieve over their grandchildren come with raw reality. As the author, I hope to capture the emotion of the experiences the grandparents live with. I will capture their experiences once I have listened to them. Then, the words in the book will express their voices.

A few grandparents have read some of my poems. They told me they feel the impact of the words. From this, they have taught me that our words are part of us. Our minds and hearts give birth to our words, then our pens send them on their journey to help other people.

I move ahead because I must. There are also motivations in life urging me to carry on. One motivation is the promise I made to my grandbabies in heaven. I assured them they mattered, and I would not forget them.

Another motivation to continue came through a message I received from a dear InScribe member. This member informed me of a friend of hers who is grieving the death of her baby grandchild. There is also a grandmother who grieves over the murder of her teenage grandson. Other stories also exist, and each expresses a deep longing.

Encouraged because words give life

I write because God used writing to help heal my grief through hope. I write not for myself but for those in search of hope beyond their grief, beyond their pain.

As I move ahead with my voice, may every word, paragraph, and chapter written be a heartbeat, a breath, to offer healing to those who grieve. May they know there is hope beyond the pain of grief, and may God grant them mercy to let them know they are not alone.

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.

Seasons of Life: Then and Now by Alan Anderson

 

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NIV)


Writing prompt: 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?

 

Now and Then

The seasons of our lives, the blessings and crushing challenges all make up our stories.

A couple of weeks ago, while preparing this month’s blog post, I listened to music on YouTube. Lo-and-behold I found a recent video of a new song by The Beatles, the favourite band of my youth and even today. The song’s title is Now and Then. The video is a masterpiece of today’s technological wonders.

The Now and Then video calls me back to a season in life when my beloved parents were alive and well. This was a season when I was in the grips of my high school years and determining where I fit into the world. I now look back on my younger years and ask, where did the years, the seasons, go?

Seasons Change

Life has been heavy at times and strewn with the lashes of storms amid cloud-covered seasons. Seasons when the storms of life crushed my soul, such as my two-year period of ministry burnout and the years when my father, then my mother, entered heaven.

The year 2019 brought a season of clouds, a season that lasted for two years. As one who loves nature, it was as if the clouds were at war with the sun. This was like a dark season, where trees bowed in despair and dropped their leaves in a forever winter. I viewed life as a mountain, where brambles and thorns covered the road to heaven. Such a long road. The Enemy tried to convince me God had forsaken me and left me alone.

I thank the Lord that cloudy seasons give way to seasons of warmth, where the sun breaks through. What I must also remember is that God is in the storms and I am not alone.

A Season to Write

This reality of cloudy seasons, however, allowed me to keep on writing. This was no act of valor but an expression of faith.

My mind records the year 2015 as the year my writing took flight. Our beloved Tracy Krauss asked me to write for our InScribe blog, and I have been contributing to the blog ever since. Not long after this tremendous honour, my dear friend Glynis M. Belec gave me an opportunity to contribute to a book on grief. In 2017, the publisher released the book Good Grief People.

Now, in the autumn of my life, I work at laying aside the weight and clearing the brambles of my past. In this season, I pray to God I can publish at least a couple of writing projects before my pen dries up.

Dear readers, please allow me to suggest that one’s cloudy seasons help one nurture and confirm a call to write. One can release words into the world; with prayers they help others.

When the winter of life comes upon me, I will look forward to one day knocking on heaven’s door and being ushered into the presence of God. I will then know beyond all doubt that all the seasons of life worked together for good.

Concluding Thoughts

Dear friends, we may experience seasons of life with huggable embraces while others we wish we could run from. These times, both blessing and suffering, are all part of the life God has granted to us. May we all stay faithful and endure the times, the seasons, we experience as we live this life.

Our seasons of life all lead to heaven. When we reach the place where God is, we will know this life was worth all we had to endure. Come, Lord Jesus, come!

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.

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.