A Letter to My Younger Self by Steph Beth Nickel

Dear 20-Something Self,

Some things we can’t learn without experiencing them. So, while there is lots I’d love to encourage you to change, lessons I’d love for you to learn sooner, we likely wouldn’t be here, just a couple of months before our 65^th birthday.

And just where is here?

After 40+ years in the same city, Dave and I are packing and prepping the house to put on the market. Joshua, Son #2, and his wife, Ericka, (yep, we’re a mother-in-law twice over) live two provinces over. Sarah, Kiddo #3, moved in with them last fall. She hopes to buy a place of her own when she has saved up enough for a downpayment. And our plan, Lord willing, is for Dave and I to move west after the house sells.

That will be a huge adventure, considering we’ve never lived out of the province. While we’re excited, the thought of leaving behind family and friends will become more emotionally charged as the date approaches. Several people have said how much they don’t want us to go, some who have known us for years and others we’ve befriended more recently.

Last year, Dave finally retired from his “temporary” job at the Housing Corporation, where he worked for over 40 years. (The Lord never opened the doors to full-time music ministry as we’d anticipated.) Nathanial came home from Scotland to celebrate his dad’s retirement and his 70^th b-day. (Sadly, N’s wife, Laura, couldn’t take the time off work.) Joshua and Ericka also joined us. And Sarah was still living at home at this point.

While all this happened just last year, it seems like it was much longer ago. What doesn’t seem that long ago is the adventure Dave and I shared with Nathanial and Laura in 2024. We travelled to Iceland with them and toured Scotland, where they live. Nathanial also took Dave and I to Ireland for five days toward the end of our time across the Pond.

So, all that to say…

Our life has been a sequence of adventures. And hopefully, there are several more yet to come.

You, my 20-something self, have challenging days ahead. You’ll make mistakes you’d love to erase. Words—lots of words—you’d love not to have said. Accusations you’ll wish you’d never made. Lessons you’d love to have learned much earlier. Opportunities you’ll grab hold of and others that will slip through your fingers. And a battle with anger that only the Lord could deliver you from.

But know this…

Romans 8:28 is true. God truly works all things together for good.

His mercy and grace are unfathomable.

And His blessings… Innumerable.

Trust the Lord. Grow in your love for Him. And grow in your love for those whose paths cross yours.

Embrace the adventure that is your life!

Steph Beth Nickel is the former Editor of FellowScript and the current InScribe Contest Coordinator. Steph is an editor and author and plans to relocate to Saskatchewan from Ontario to be close to family in 2027. (Headshot Photo Credit: Jaime Mellor Photography)

R is for Retirement by Susan Barclay

 

I never wanted to be one of those people who started writing when they retired. When I quit my day job in 2002 and moved to where my family now lives, it was so I could write as well as be there for my children who were then five and seven years old. I had been inspired by a woman who presented at a God Uses Ink conference. She had shared how her husband had agreed that if she wrote and sold enough work in a year to make it financially viable, she could resign from work to write full-time. She succeeded! I had a talent for writing, so if she could do it, why couldn't I? I had also been "inspired" by the events of 9/11. Life could be cut short in a moment. If ever I wanted to write, the time was now.

 I think we all know where this is going... There's a reason they say "don't quit your day job." My story didn't pan out as did the presenter's. Why not? Well, for starters, I'm not her. I didn't have her level of discipline, didn't have access to her plan, didn't share her network of contacts in the business, didn't live where she lives (New York), and didn't keep sending out my work after receiving several rejection letters.

Three years after exiting paid employment, I returned to work part-time, if not fulfilling my dream, at least achieving a modicum of work-life balance. I continued to write in the margins of time, even beginning a novel that (to date) remains unfinished. I published when and where I could, including three short stories for different anthologies and two personal experience pieces for Chicken Soup for the Soul. I've been blogging here since September 2011, had a column in FellowScript one year, and have had one or two other FellowScript articles published as well. And let's not forget the poem in Good Times magazine in September 2019! Not quite the body of work I'd hoped for by this point but it is what it is.

I've learned something about myself and my writing along the way. My definition of "success" looks different today. Then, I hoped to make a living at it; now, I hope for a writing life that honours God and contributes to the good of others, whether by educating, informing, or entertaining. Money is no longer a goal. Canadian author Wayson Choy once told me, "You are a writer!" and Jane Ann McLachlan said, "You have something to say." Those encouragements, spoken years ago, have been enough fuel to keep me going, despite any lack of remuneration.

My retirement was officially announced on Monday. And yes, I'm still providing eldercare for my mom in our home as well as dealing with the struggles of my children, now in their late 20s. Still, I'm looking forward to the freedom of (loosely?) setting my own schedule, including daily writing, even if it's just a journal entry or response to a writing prompt.

I'm sure my retired friends have advice for me? My final work shift is July 5th, so please send your best recommendations for starting the next stage of my life off on the right foot and I will do my best to follow your suggestions. It seems I aspire to be one of "those people" after all, and I'm looking forward to this next chapter in my story!

_____________________

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

 

When Work Will Become Play - Bruce Atchison

For those who don't know me, I've lived on a disability pension since 1995. In July of that year, I went to a work counselor to find out which line of employment I was suited for. After showing the man my tear sheets from amateur electronic music fan magazines, he recommended I become a freelance writer.

What takes the fun out of writing for me is having to be under threat of scrutiny by Canada Pension Plan. According to their regulations, I had to find employment in the kind of work I previously did for the federal government. After two years, I was supposed to find any sort of employment.

Doing what's needed is nowhere as enjoyable as doing what one loves. That's why I sympathize with one epistle writer in particular. Jude 1:3 (Bible in Basic English) shows his dilemma. "My loved ones, while my thoughts were full of a letter which I was going to send you about our common salvation, it was necessary for me to send you one requesting you with all my heart to go on fighting strongly for the faith which has been given to the saints once and for ever."

There's absolutely nothing wrong with contending for the faith. Poor Jude would rather have rejoiced in the great privilege of salvation but the Holy Spirit reassigned his writing work to defend the truth.

Furthermore, Paul wanted to be with the Lord but he knew the churches needed him more. Philippians 1:23 and 24 (BBE) says, "I am in a hard position between the two, having a desire to go away and be with Christ, which is very much better: Still, to go on in the flesh is more necessary because of you."

Furthermore, Jesus let out a cry of triumph in John 19:30 (BBE). "So when Jesus had taken the wine he said, 'All is done.' And with his head bent he gave up his spirit."

I know I'll feel so happy when I retire next year. Canada Pension Plan won't be on my back bumper anymore. I earned my pension and, God willing, my retirement pension will await me. And if I feel inspired to write, I will do so without fear that I'll be tossed off my hard-earned pension.

Setting Sail by Lynn Dove

Forty years.  I can scarce recall what happened yesterday let alone four decades ago and yet on June 2nd I will have been married forty years.  I remember the day for the most part.  I remember I stressed over the fact that it rained the day before and the clouds looked ominous early that morning, but the rain never fell.  In fact, the sun radiated warmth all day and sitting on my parents' deck, trying to calm myself for the afternoon festivities, I actually got a little sun-burned.  It didn't matter.  I was getting married and nothing could spoil the day.

I don't actually remember getting into my wedding dress, or the short drive to the church in my father's big, blue Oldsmobile Cutlass.  The photographer took a picture of me being helped out of the car by my Dad, who reached for my hand and smiled at me.  If it weren't for that picture, I might have wondered if I had somehow been Star Trek-like transported to the church.  I don't remember walking up the stairs of the church with my best friend leading the way.  As the only bridesmaid, she was the centre of attention as she walked the aisle on the arm of my fiancé's best friend.  I remember we had to wait, my Dad and I, behind a closed door while my bridesmaid and groomsman strolled casually down to the front of the church.  Then it was our turn.  Dad kissed me on the cheek.  "Ready?" he said.  I must have nodded because somehow I found myself at the front of the church and standing next to the man I was going to marry.

I know the church was full of people, but I was too nervous to acknowledge any of them.  I don't remember the Pastor's words.  I was thankful someone had the presence of mind to tape the entire service on a cassette tape so I could listen to it months later.  I remember looking at Charles, who looked nervous, which was odd, because he was always so stoic and unflustered.  He smiled and my heart melted.  We would be okay.  We had no idea what the next day would hold, or the week, or months and finally years ahead of us would look like for us.  We held hands, exchanged our vows and pledged before God and our families and friends that we would love one another "'till death do us part".  It was enough.

Forty years.  2 miscarriages.  3 children.  4 grandchildren.  Numerous pets.  5 homes.  Countless cars.  Job changes.  Health scares.  Career changes.  Camping trips.  Family vacations.  Holidays.  Forty Christmases, Easters, and Thanksgivings.  Forty years of memory-making.  Forty years of holding hands, praying together, and leaning on God for our daily bread.  Forty years claiming His promises, and letting Him lead and guide us.  Constantly repeating the life verse we chose together forty years ago: "In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps."  Proverbs 16:9.

As retirement looms ahead for us, we are not content with sitting in rocking chairs and wiling away the days in relax mode.  We are celebrating our fortieth anniversary going on a Mediterranean Cruise.  It's a first for us, one we hope will mark the first of many travel adventures together in our future.  We love exploring new places and experiencing new things.

We are blessed that all three of our children and their families live close by so we can continue to memory-make with them, indulge our grandbabies, and watch them grow up.  We will be celebrating the wedding of our youngest daughter next year.  It will be a blessed event.  I'm sure there will be other momentous events in our future.

As we set sail in a few months I can't help but think that we are charting a new course, my husband and I.  Retirement is like sailing into new territory.  What sites will we see?  What will we experience?  Who will we meet?  What new memories will we make?  We've had our share of many peaceful cruises on life's ocean, intermingled with some unexpected tidal surges and rough waves over these past forty years.  Still, we keep walking hand in hand, looking forward, full speed ahead, our eyes focused on the horizon and praying for calm waters in the years ahead.  I look forward to where God will direct us over the next forty years!

Lynn Dove is the award-winning author, of the YA “Wounded Trilogy”- a contemporary Christian fiction series with coming-of-age themes.  A wife, mom, grandmother, and free-lance writer with articles published in several magazines and anthologies including Chicken Soup for the Soul books, her blog, “Journey Thoughts” is a Canadian Christian Writing Award winner.  Readers may connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, and at lynndove.com  

For Fewer Ahead Than Behind, I'm Thankful — Lynda Schultz

Our pastor resigned last week. Gone are the days (for which I am thankful) when all of the rest of the staff would have been required to resign as well. This brief descent into madness was meant to give the "new guy" a chance to form his own team. The intentions were good even though the chaos created by massive resignations was a bit hard on the church!

In any case, I mentioned to our elders that whoever they interviewed should be allowed the option of a grace period after his arrival during which he could decide whether or not the staff he had inherited was the right "fit" for his vision. I'm on staff so I was talking about myself and it was only later that I realized that the elder to whom I had spoken thought I was worried about my job security.

I'm 62—today. Given the trend in finding a senior pastor, it will likely be about two years before we find the man that God has for our congregation. If God chooses to parachute him in long before the stats say he's supposed to arrive I'll be more than happy. But supposing that we are as average as the rest of the world, I'll be 64 by the time the new man comes. It will take him a while to decide whether or not I "fit" and it may take me a while to figure out if I want to "fit." By that time I'll probably be 65 and about as unconcerned about job security as anyone can be.

I really was sincere in my concern that our new pastor, whoever he is and whenever he turns up, have the freedom to choose the people he works with. I honestly was not concerned about job security.

It sounds odd that I am thankful for being 62, and for being able to say honestly that there is a certain freedom that comes with age. It's the freedom to look back and have an "aha" moment when I am reminded of how the Lord has blessed me and kept me over all the years I have known Him. The remembrance of past privileges overwhelms me still. But with age also comes the freedom to look ahead and anticipate other blessings. I'm a year closer to eternity and that's wonderful, but before I get there I can look forward to freedom 65 (I missed "Freedom 55") and the possibility of doing some of the things that I don't have the time as a "working woman" to do now.

Perhaps I'm still a bit naive—astounding at this stage of my life—but I think the best is yet to come. I don't know what it will look like but I believe that on this side of heaven there are still mountains to climb, experiences to savour, a less hectic pace to enjoy, and maybe even some books to write. Aging doesn't signal the end of the road; it marks a different road. And the best thing about it is that, thanks to Christ, all the roads, whatever they end up looking like, will lead home.