Seasons, Nature, and Writing Rituals by Alan Anderson

 

Daily Ritual to Begin My Day

Before breakfast or anything else my wife and I begin each day with morning prayers, Scripture reading, and brief meditation from our Orthodox Saints. In our faith walk this is a constant never missed unless because of illness or an emergency. If one of us is ill the other carries on with our morning ritual while the other listens and prays.

 

My Morning Writing Ritual

My writing, “ritual,” changes from time to time, even from day to day. Here is the reason. I mentioned in my blog post of February 20, 2021, my challenge with extreme obstructive sleep apnea. https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/37258556/1460840901707753563 This challenge continues to this day although my memory and concentration improved somewhat since I began using a C-Pap machine.

 

A diagnosis of sleep apnea has given me a relief to know what has been going on with me. I am now aware of how I can maximize my writing energy to be productive and lucid. These days I may write anywhere from three to five hours in a day. The earlier in the morning I begin the more I can concentrate. Through self-experimentation I have found if I neglect to use my C-PAP machine my writing energy is lower. The lesson? Use my C-PAP machine every night.

 

 

Part of my ritual when I write is to do so for thirty minutes then take a five-minute break. This helps me minimize distractions like when my mind tries to lure me to another project. Okay, here is where it might strike you as odd. I do a lot of self-talk when I write. Yes, my secret is now out. I talk to myself when I want to make sure I use the correct words for a sentence or paragraph. For instance, as I was writing this paragraph, I had a little argument with myself to decide whether to let out my secret. Not a giant tiff, just a wee discussion before I continued.

 

 

For the most part I focus on poetry. As I wrote in my Feb. 20, 2021, blog post, “I find poetry is easier to focus on. While concentration continues to be a struggle, I can write at least one poem draft per week. I turned to poetry in hopes not only to sharpen my writing skills but also aid in my concentration.” This is still the case although my concentration is better than in early 2021.

 

 

Nature & Writing Ritual.

I am blessed to live in an area surrounded by mountains, farms, the Fraser River, and flocks of wild birds. I can access all this nature by walks on the dike five minutes away. This is natural relief for writer’s block or when my mind needs a break. Walks on the dike mean I can formulate or even rewrite poems in my head. My concentration is more like a friend when I walk the dike.

 

 

Spring/Autumn and My Writing Ritual

I love spring and with this season my writing ritual goes into high gear. I do not know what it is about spring, but with its appearance I feel energized even more to write. I also love autumn and its soft caresses as breezes become a pal to hang out with.

 

 

I thank God for the words I write. I thank Him for the ability to write. I thank Him for my rituals of writing. May my words be eager to care for and bless the world.

 

 

Alan lives in Deroche, B.C. with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He contributed stories to Good Grief People by Angel Hope Publishing, 2017; Story by Story: The Power of a Writer, Unstoppable Writers Publishing, 2018; Easter Stories & More by InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship, 2021. He is currently working on a book expressing the grief of grieving grandparents entitled, Hidden Poetic Voices: A Reflective Work of Grief, Faith, and Poetry. Alan periodically writes articles for FellowScript Magazine. He has written posts for our InScribe blog since 2015. Blog: https://scarredjoy.ca.

Heart Songs by Alan Anderson

 

“He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the LORD and put their trust in him.”---Psalm 40:3 (NIV)

 

 

This blog post has we writers contemplating projects, “that make your heart sing.” This makes one think of the precious organ within our bodies as a source of the rhythm of our lives. Every beat of our hearts reminds us we are alive. This may cause us to sing and our feet to dance to this rhythm. There are, however, different rhythms, different songs our hearts may sing.

 

A Dirge Heart Song

When my parents died a few years apart from each other, my heart song struck the beat of a dirge. This expressed a slow-moving mournful lament. The sun dimmed as if I sat among the clouds. I could no longer enjoy the physical presence of the people who gave me life. My heart sang the dirge of an adult orphan.

 

 

A Heart Song of Love

I am not the most romantic guy in the world, but I know how to love. When I met the woman of my dreams, I knew I had to plan my life different than I thought before. In our early lives together we both knew we were a fit with each other. Even after forty-four years of marriage we are a super fit together, love endures, and a medley of love continues.

 

 

A Heart Song of Praise

I became a Christian in 1975 and for the first time in my life my heart could sing praise to God. Life changed and my search for true meaning and purpose ended. As with all of God’s people I can praise Him even in the storms of life. God hears my heart song of praise.

 

A Melody of Nature

 

The warmth of the once winter hidden sun breaks forth and wakes up creation. One’s voice has the freedom to soar like a bird when in the presence of mountains, the parents of the forests. A few minutes from where I live the mountains are close enough to hug. Right now, they are showing off a myriad of their spring green and yellow colours. The evergreen and deciduous trees dance to the rhythm of a spring breeze.

 

Not to be left out, birds let lose with their chirps, warbles, and whistles. The finches, robins, chickadees, juncos, crows, and even starlings, sing praises to God whether off-key or perfect pitch. The melody of nature can overwhelm me to the point my heart sings with the citizens of the sky.

 

 

Dear Friends

Perhaps life for you, even now, may have you in a strangle hold to the point you choke. A pathway in life may even now cause you to sing mournful notes of a dirge. In our society people run from dirges and their hearts try to scream them away.

 

 

As you make your way through this journey of life what makes your heart sing? My friends, beloved of God, my prayer for you is your heart will always know it can sing a song of praise. From experience I know the pain that accompanies one when life calls to sing a dirge. Glory be to God, we can also sing praise even in a storm we feel may rip us from this life.

 

 

“And I'll praise you in this storm

And I will lift my hands

For you are who you are

No matter where I am

 

And every tear I've cried

You hold in your hand

You never left my side

And though my heart is torn

I will praise you in this storm”

Writer(s): John Mark Hall, Bernie Herms, 2006

 

 

Precious Holy One, all praise be to You forever. Oh God, lover of our souls, allow our hearts to sing praise to you, even through the storms in our lives.

 

 

Dear friends and fellow sojourners, allow your hearts to sing, for God loves the sound of your songs.

 

 

Alan lives in Deroche, B.C. with his wife, Terry. He contributed stories to Good Grief People by Angel Hope Publishing, 2017; Story by Story: The Power of a Writer, Unstoppable Writers Publishing, 2018; Easter Stories & More by InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship, 2021. Alan periodically writes articles for FellowScript Magazine. He has written posts for our InScribe blog since 2015. Blog: https://scarredjoy.ca.

Beauty Sows Seeds by Wendy L. Macdonald

 

When I chose my word for 2020, I was unaware of the significant role it would have in the emotional, spiritual, and physical wellbeing of me and the rest of the world. Beauty; the beauty of God revealed through nature is saving the serenity of so many of us.   

More than ever before the beauty of the Lord is my balm in this world. So much has happened and not happened in 2020. But the beauty of creation—of our Creator—has consistently showed up in each season. While the world struggled with COVID 19, nature continued to nurture our minds, bodies, and souls.

I had no idea how important the beauty of creation would factor in my life and in the lives of so many people in 2020. While we were called to physically distance ourselves from anyone outside of our tiny bubbles, we were encouraged to embrace the outdoors. 

All these nature-loving activities everyone is partaking of are sowing seeds. For the art of God—nature—is constantly pointing to its Maker.

For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.

Romans 1:20 NIV

I’m wondering if beauty is going to birth a revival. There’s absolutely been a revival in the world’s interest and participation in outdoor recreation. 

Beauty has held my heart and hand while my usual activities have been pruned away. While I may not be able to take my grandson to his music classes this year, I took him to nature parks where we watched crabs scuttle across the sand, fawns follow their mother across the grass, and geese honk in formation across the sky.

Beauty boasts a Builder.  While my grandson asks a lot of why questions about nature, I’m praying he eventually asks a bunch of who questions. Who made the sun? Who made the ocean? Who sprinkled sand on the seaside? Who made me?

I’m also hoping many more people across this planet ask who, what, where, when, and why questions regarding the beauty all around us. Are you also hoping this happens?

Let’s pray together: Father God, our Marvelous Maker, please open the eyes, hearts, and minds of people as they walk, run, hike, ride, boat, drive, paddle, and pedal etc. across Your beautiful world. Help them hunger to know You, seek You, and love You. You alone are able to satisfy our souls. Thank you and praise you for all the beauty around us. You are beautiful, dear God. So beautiful. In Jesus name, amen. 

I’m nosy-to-know what your most beautiful nature experience in the outdoors has been this year?

Beautiful blessings ~ Wendy Mac     

Thankfulness in Every Season by Nina Faye Morey

I will extol the LORD at all times;

His praise will always be on my lips.

Psalm 34:1 (NIV)

In his Psalm of praise, David vows to always give glory to the Lord. No matter the time or season of our lives, we should never cease to honour Him and give Him thanks and praise (Psalm 106:1).

Give Thanks to the Lord

I find it easy to be grateful to the Lord for most aspects of our changing prairie seasons. I even enjoy the sound and fury of a sudden thunderstorm on a hot summer day. However, I find it more difficult to maintain this thankful attitude during winter’s storms. I really don’t appreciate the frigid temperatures or icy sidewalks that keep me indoors. However, there are mornings when I wake up to find that my little corner of the world has been magically transformed into a winter wonderland. I’m treated to a spectacular view of a world adorned with sparkling snow and hoarfrost. Then my spirits lift once more. I find myself thanking God and echoing His Word that all His creation is good (Genesis 1:31).

God’s Glorious Creation

Like the seasons of nature, I sometimes find it difficult to be thankful through all the seasons of my life. Just as the turn of seasons causes some of nature’s fiercest storms, we face our stormiest times during major life changes—illness, death, divorce. I may not have control over these stormy phases, but I do have control over how I react to them. I can call on the Lord, or I can choose to turn my back on Him. Even though I may not always understand God’s ways, I need to trust in Him.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart

and lean not on you own understanding;

In all your ways submit to him

and he will make your paths straight.

Prov. 3: 5-6

So although it’s sometimes hard to remain thankful through the stormy seasons of my life, I’m assured that I can stand firmly on the solid rock of God’s promises. He will provide me with stability and strength despite the shifting sands beneath my feet. If I trust in the Lord, I can be assured that He loves me and hears my cries for help. He sits at the right hand of God and intercedes for us in times of trouble (Romans 8: 31-39). He will hear my prayers and come to my rescue, giving me a firm foothold once more in the midst of my emotional turmoil.

My salvation and my honor depend on God;

he is my mighty rock, my refuge.

Trust in him at all times, you people;

pour out your hearts to him,

for God is our refuge.

Psalm 62: 7-8

No matter what negative things are presently occurring in my life, I can be confident that God is working to turn them into something positive. Just as He works in the natural realm to transform a bitter winter into a winter wonderland, He works in the spiritual realm to transform the bad into the good.

And we know that in all things God works for the

good of those who love him, who have been

called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:28

When I get discouraged during life’s storms, I remember David’s advice to always give thanks and praise to the Lord. Accepting that God’s in control of my future lifts my spirits and brings peace to my heart. If I remain focused on my faith, I know God will have something wonderful in store for me on the other side of the storm (Col. 3:15-17).

My Spirits Lift Once More

Seeing Things Differently by Steph Beth Nickel

It's so easy to go through life on fast forward and miss the wonder all around. And at this time of year, if you do take the time to slow down, the biting cold, the blowing snow, and the overcast skies may get you down. We must choose to see things differently, to focus on the beauty in the midst of it all.

I love to take pictures. There's nothing that cheers my heart like going for a photo walk and looking at life through the lens of my camera.

God created an amazing world. And Romans 1:20 says, "For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made" (ESV). Amazing!

Below are some of the pictures I took in years gone by (when we had far more snow). What warms your heart when the cold winds blow? What have you learned about God from His creation?

Summer Distractions by Tandy Balson

Life in the summer is full of distractions.  They are wonderful, like going to the playground with my grandchildren or learning to kayak.  

I find when I’m doing something away from my desk the inspirations for writing flow freely.    Even something as simple as a walk through the woods brings thoughts flitting through my mind like butterflies through the wild flowers.

We were spending a few days in a campground near a lake and I had ideas for stories coming at me constantly.  It was exciting and I looked forward to sitting in the sunshine and writing them down.  That’s when the distractions took over.  

The dragonfly that landed close to me captured all of my attention.  My pen was poised over the paper but the words that had flooded my mind only moments before seemed to float away on the breeze.  

Then I heard the joyful sound of children laughing and playing.  I looked up to see what was bringing such happiness.  Soon I was engrossed in playing with my grandchildren and the writing was abandoned.

Later when all was quiet I sat down ready to put my thoughts on paper.  My husband was cooking dinner and I had no responsibilities at that moment.  The timing should have been perfect to express my creativity.  Alas, it was not to be.  The sizzle and mouth-watering aromas coming from the barbeque had me thinking of my stomach instead of the words that had been in my mind only moments before.

I soon realized that I only needed to jot down a few thoughts in a journal.  They would be the prompts waiting for me to expand upon at a later time. 

Once I was back in my quiet writing area the distractions were gone and my earlier thoughts resurfaced. I was more prolific than ever before.

I am learning that I need to relax and go with the flow.  Being rigid with my writing schedule does not work for me when there are adventures that can only be experienced in this short summer season. 

 

This is the time to soak up the sun as I sit in my lounge chair and enjoy reading engaging books by several of our talented InScribe  authors.  The writing will be there for me when I come back inside.  For now, I’m going to enjoy the summer.

www.timewithtandy.com

He Walks With Me – by Tandy Balson

I read somewhere that writer’s block is when your imaginary friends stop talking to you!  That may be true for those who write fiction but as a non-fiction writer that's not an excuse I can use.

The worst thing I can do when I am stuck for words is to sit alone at the keyboard and try to force the words to flow through my fingertips.   A change of scenery can be the very thing needed to inspire my creativity.

Most often that means spending time in nature.  God has surrounded me with beauty and wants me to take the time to enjoy it.  When I walk and let my mind roam free I allow him to speak to me. 

 I have just come back from a vacation where I was blessed to be able to go for long walks along the beach most mornings.  As I walked I often had the strains of the song In The Garden going through my mind. Although I was at a beach and not a garden, the words were still appropriate: “And He walks with me, and He talks with me, And He tells me I am His own; And the joy we share as we tarry there, None other has ever known..”

The joy I receive as I choose to walk with him is an experience that is able to refresh and energize at the same time.

Last summer I found inspiration at a lake I frequented.  Sometimes it was a walk through the trees that lined the shore.  Other times a bench beside the lake became my quiet spot for reflection.  Watching the sun set with no buildings to impede the view would make my heart sing.  There is something about the beauty and peacefulness of nature that restores my soul.  

I had never thought of these times as artist’s dates but that is exactly what they were.  The greatest artist of all, the one who paints the sky with muted shades at sunset and the trees and flowers with a vast array of vivid colours wants to spend time with me.  When I stop my striving and bask in the beauty he has surrounded me with, I can’t help but be inspired.

This Vast Land - Tracy Krauss

We’ve had several days now to reflect on William and Kate’s royal visit to Canada.  Nightly news casts relayed the day’s events as the couple toured the country, charming everyone in their path. I hope they came away with a positive view of what we’re made of. Even the protestors in Quebec were apparently respectful enough not to cause too much trouble. Imagine a country where decent is a freedom which we still embrace.

I had the privilege a few years ago to take a cross Canada trip with my family, hitting every capital city in the country except Yellowknife and Iqaluit. (I’m sorry that we couldn’t squeeze them in, but time and money just wouldn’t allow it!)The trip took seven weeks, and although we couldn’t possibly see everything this great country has to offer, it did afford us a glimpse of every region, and certainly inspired future trips to certain spots.  Of course the thing that strikes one the most when doing a trip like that is the shear vastness. It is amazing when you consider that a mere 35,000,000 people are spread out over this huge landmass, yet somehow we manage to find enough common ground to call ourselves one nation.

Highlights for me were visiting the old fort of Louisbourg in Nova Scotia, old Quebec City as well as the country side in rural Quebec, and the rugged beauty in Newfoundland.  The wilderness of Northern Ontario was a surprise as was the quaint and elegant beauty of Victoria, BC. To save money we spent many nights sleeping in our vehicle – despite the fact that there were six of us. Our children were used to long trips, having lived most of their lives in the north, so they were content to fall asleep while my husband, (who needs very little sleep) kept driving until he felt like stopping. We spent many nights in the ‘Hotel Suburban’ as we called it, since at the time we drove a GMC Suburban, which was big enough to hold our large family plus all our gear. Every few days we’d rent a room to get a proper night’s sleep and then away we would go again! 

Lobster suppers, Viking villages, the Hockey Hall of Fame and so much more are now just a memory.  On our way home, as we rolled back along the Alaska highway to our home in the Yukon, despite the many wonderful places we’d visited, we all agreed that the scenery in our own back yard was still probably some of the most spectacular we had seen. 

On July first when I was watching the news, there was a short clip about Canada Day celebrations that were going on in London, England – the biggest celebrations outside of Canada itself. Here they had things like a Tim Horton’s booth, Molson Canadian beer, and street hockey. Isn’t it funny how certain things have come to define us? While these are quite true, I like to think it is our friendly, outgoing nature, combined with our sense of adventure, that are truly what define us as a people.  Perhaps these characteristics are an extension of the landscape itself – adventurous, vast, and varied. May we long be known as the ‘True North’ - strong and free. 

About Canada - Janice Keats

I belong to Canada
Canada belongs to me
I love the ocean blue
I love the birds so free

The beauty of nature
The warmth of people
Is what makes our nation
So friendly and special

The flag flies so high
The white showing purity
The red waving our strength
How beautiful is our country!


~ © Janice Keats

A Journey to the Heart of Evangelism

Heat Wave - Nesdoly

Yesterday’s fever
broke in the evening
This morning
cool soothing air
bathes face arms legs
the neighborhood refreshed
as if it slept
deep and exhausted
after sickness

But sun’s warm hand upon my back
warns temperature is rising
and burning heat will soon
again blister the brown grass
make bright-eyed impatiens
and roadside chicory
droop in the dazzling delirium

We will lie in darkened rooms
splayed under whirring fans
flushed, fighting off sweats
ice-tinkling drinks within arm’s reach
till evening
when the fever breaks again.

© 2007 by Violet Nesdoly



The weather man says we're in for another few hot days here - days which, if the heat goes too high, feel surreal to me. (You may have guessed that we don't have AC.) How do you feel about the heat?

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Web: http://violetnesdoly.com
Blog: promptings
Daily devotions for kids: Bible Drive-Thru
Twitter: @vnesdoly

Labour Naught by Lynda Schultz

Author's Note: This is in honour of the leaf-cutters. Though they almost destroyed my garden, I admire their industry. God does good work.

‘Twas a warm sunny day in the Vale of Naught;
Birds, bugs, and beasties resting were caught,
As a breeze from the west arose to uncover
A plot to disturb a nest of young plover.

“Oh my goodness, my gosh, what a terrible lapse
To awake them from sleep, to unsettle their naps!
Such a breach of good taste, of etiquette true,
To wake up the birds, oh what will I do?”

No harm and no foul; except those that had wings,
For the babies stayed settled, such somnolent things.
The zephyr of air planning malevolent deed,
Convinced all the fauna to follow their lead.

While all were in slumber, not a witness in sight,
The breeze went to hunting that horrible blight
That sought to reverse his nasty design
To keep everything quiet, lazy, benign.

He ruffled the hedgerows and lifted the leaves,
Tossed up the moss and bent down the sheaves;
All the while cursing under whispery breath,
He was doing exactly what he hated to death.

“Someone will pay,” he muttered, distraught,
“For disturbing my peace, for stirring the pot.
It’s better to rest, to sleep, to stretch out,
To be at your ease, neither murmur nor shout.”

No reason to cool, refresh or revive
If the world was asleep, right down to each hive.
The breeze wouldn’t work unless there was need;
To serve the Creation wasn’t part of his creed.

Around the old Oak, the breeze took a tour
For the leaves by the nest held the secret for sure.
From under the mulch at the foot of the tree
A flick of a leaf and — “I’ve got them!” What glee!

A family of ants; cousins and brothers,
Uncles and nieces, sisters and mothers
Were carrying food to their winter retreat
In spite of the sun, the hour and the heat.

They worked with a will, in lines tidy and true,
Collecting supplies to see winter right through.
They looked not to the right, nor gazed to the left
But kept right on moving, focused and deft.

There was plenty to eat now that summer was here.
But winter they knew would lack in good cheer
If they didn’t ensure there’d be plenty of fodder
To keep them in clover, green leaves and water.

The wind drew his breath, all set to let fly
The blast of his lungs that would cause them to die,
Or blow them to somewhere so far away
That they couldn’t return to cause disarray.

To this very day rumours course through the dell;
Whatever the ants heard, they never did tell.
Who stole the bluster from the lips of the breeze
And caused him to cower and fall to his knees?

No one was present, no one was there
To witness the end of that scene of despair.
They all were asleep, so none could explain
Why the sky turned to clouds and it started to rain.

How the wind got the message direct from the Chief
To remind him of Who might come to the relief
Of a million poor ants working hard to survive
At the command of the Master of all things alive.

I’m told from that moment the wind was unswerving
In doing his best to be constantly serving.
His example was such that all nature, convinced
Worked like the ants from that time ever since.


“Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise!” Proverbs 6:6 NIV

A Taste of the Wild - Donna Fawcett

As published June 25, 2007

He flares his nostrils, tasting the air for all signs of predator. Nothing. And yet there is something. A faint wisp of current that whispers to him. Flee. Run. Chase the wind. Tossing his head, he challenges the silent voice with his own certainty. There is nothing there. The wind picks up in a burst of hot, dry air and swirls the dust through the field before settling once more to stillness. Picking up a striped hoof, he bats at the ground impatiently.

Another toss of black and white mane sends the ear gnats and deer flies dancing into the air only to settle back to their morbid feast upon his hide. He feels little of it. Ears flicker back and forth as though in command of their own fate. All is as it should be. He is still for a moment longer and then a spasm shudders through the great collection of bone, hide and bunched muscle and he bursts forth, lifting legs high, holding his head upright as he continues to sample the close atmosphere with alert senses. With the thunder of each hoof small clouds of dust are churned to life, scattering out behind him. The pull and stretch of muscle pushes him into the bright daylight at a terrific speed and his herd members lift their grazing heads in instantaneous alarm. He flees.

Leader of the herd. Mighty stallion. The call has been sounded and they must follow. The single patter of four hooves becomes the roaring drum of hundreds and the field transforms into a flowing river of browns and blacks and whites and roans. The small puffs of dust become huge columns that obscure the fleeing charge and as the great band of horses crest the distant hill and plunge beyond its horizon silence once more comes to the still afternoon.