Seasons of Life and Writing by Sharon Heagy

Photo collage by Sharon Heagy

Seasons have existed since the creation of the earth when God created "lights in the expanse of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark seasons and days and years." (Genesis 1:14 NIV). In Canada, we have four very distinct seasons which is one of the reasons I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. There is a gradual awakening in the Spring, when plants and animals stretch and yawn and come to life again. Summer brings continued growth of vegetation and creatures alike until the daylight hours begin to dwindle. As winter approaches, autumn leaves give a farewell party and don their most brilliant colours in a final dance. Some leap from the tree and get caught in tiny, joyful whirlwinds, while others float gracefully yet reluctantly to the ground. Animals begin to look for cozy dens to curl up in during hibernation, and the skies are filled with the sound of south bound birds honking like they're caught in a traffic jam. The cold frosty winters force plants to shrink once again beneath the surface of the soil. Some beasts slumber and some grow thick winter hair. Winter is a season of rest and rejuvenation and the only energy expended is to keep warm.

Human beings have seasons of life, and seasons within those seasons. Our first season is defined by age. Baby, toddler, youth, tween, teen, young adult, adult, old adult, really old adult, and geezer. The latter four are defined from the perspective of those under thirty years of age. We have seasons to be educated, earn a living, have children, have grandchildren. Seasons of health and happiness, seasons of sickness and despair. Seasons of loss. Seasons when we wish we could, like the animals, hide in hibernation until the world is set right again but we know this won't happen this side of heaven. We learn to adapt and morph and change and the seasons pass.

The writing life has seasons too. There is a time when everything is fresh and new, exhilarating and exciting! We are beginning our journey and absorb all we can like an unsaturated sponge. The structure may be a little wobbly but strong foundations are being formed.

As we gain a little knowledge we become intermediate writers. We're still intimidated and hesitant to share our work with others but the foundation has become firm and the structure needs less help. We learn about the art of editing and the thrill of turning a phrase just so or finding the word that means precisely what we are trying to express. Added to the initial excitement of the beginner, the intermediate writer develops a deeper affection for the craft.

What follows the intermediate writer is a writer of experience. One willing to share freely, knowing God has something to say through them in a way only they can say it. They walk in obedience, seeking Him for inspiration. Everything they work on is girded with His foundation and built brick upon brick like a Lego castle, reaching beyond anything they have ever done. They know they will get past any writer's block or interference. These writers are willing to do the work, the daily grind, stretching themselves and their skills towards perfection. Though skill and talent exude through their pores, they know there is always more to learn. Writing is such an integral part of life they cannot give it up any more than they could stop breathing. It is a sanctuary, a sacred endeavour. Affection turns to adoration.

Part of the challenge of this month’s prompt was to examine the season we are currently undergoing. When I look at my own writing life, I would consider myself a little bit of a beginner who is well into the intermediate season and one who may someday become one of the experienced. I have the privilege of knowing some accomplished writers, and I listen to their words and encouragement with hope. They are amazing people who mentor and instruct others without even knowing. You probably know some of them too. Many are within the InScribe family. Writing is seldom a totally solitary endeavour. We need each other. As the stretching and shaping of my writing life continues, I think I will stick around and stick to it until God calls me to another level beyond myself. I hope you do too. It only gets better and richer and there are many seasons yet to come.

Sharon Heagy writes from the small but vibrant town of Rockglen, Saskatchewan which is nestled in the valley near the Burning Hills. She writes to inspire and give hope with a chuckle or two along the way.

Processing the Seasons of Life by Steph Beth Nickel

 

Fountain Pen Note Notebook - Free photo on Pixabay

It's my guess that you're facing challenges of one description or another, no matter what season of life you're in.

You may be a young person wondering what the 2025/2026 schoolyear holds in store.

A 20-something just getting started with your adult life. So many decisions to make!

Maybe you're in your 30s, 40s, or 50s, deep in the weeds of "adulting." (I wasn't sure about that word when I first heard it either, but it's grown on me.)

And then, there are those of us in our 60s and 70s and beyond, facing the fall and winter seasons of life.

Whatever our age or our situation, there is one thing that will help us all process our thoughts and feelings.

And that's...

Writing.

Of course you may be writing for "the public." Books. Articles. Blog posts.

But there are several types of writing we can do that others will never see, not if we don't want them to.

Julia Cameron developed the idea of "morning pages," three pages of uncensored, unedited streams of consciousness put to paper before we officially begin our day. Because there is a psychological difference between writing by hand and writing on the computer, she encourages readers to use pen and paper. I did so for awhile and found it super helpful. I may have to return to the practice.

I'm currently making a brief entry in my journal at the end of most days. I first heard about line-a-day diaries from podcaster and author Kendra Adachi. This is perfect for recording 1-4 sentences that sum up each day. No matter how tired we are or how unmotivated we feel, most of us can bring ourselves to complete this exercise.

And then there's what I call "rambling until we stumble upon truth." I haven't done this type of journaling in several years, but I found it a great way to process my thoughts and feelings while encouraging my inner editor to take a break. Sometimes, I was surprised at what ended up on the paper.

These are only a handful of the ways we can process where we're at in our particular season of life.

I made a number of false starts to this post because I'm currently processing my way through imminent changes and those that I anticipate will occur within the next year or so. How much should I share? Would I just be filling the page? Would it actually benefit readers? 

I decided to save those rambling thoughts for my personal journal. 

You may find it helpful to work through the challenges you're facing in the same way. And those thoughts just may motivate you to share with others who are facing the same challenges.

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 2026. (Headshot Photo Credit: Jaime Mellor Photography)

Church at the Park during the Summer Season by Sandra Rafuse

I love the four seasons that we get to experience here in Saskatchewan every year. Each one is so different from the others. They arrive within days of their scheduled time, they stay for their allotted days, and then they leave...sometimes stealthily...sometimes swiftly, and meanwhile we get to experience the arrival of  the next season. The people in our church get to have a change of environment every time summer arrives. We start driving to our local regional park to attend church services starting on the long weekend in May and ending on the long weekend in September, so long as the weather remains good until then. We've done this for years and it's what we're doing right now. 

We all look forward to the change from using the town hall in a tiny hamlet; a very nice hall indeed with a kitchen, two bathrooms, and a large adjoining room for storage of the folding tables and chairs...to using a bare-bones rectangular building with a few plug-ins, three fairly new windows, a back door, and a wide sliding door that opens at the front to allow people to go in and out. Inside there are no ceiling tiles so you can see the rafters holding up the roof. The stacking wooden chairs and a couple of tables are stored in the C Can (a shipping container) outside, along with all the paraphernalia needed for potlucks.

Speaking of potlucks...they take place after the service almost every Sunday of the year. Since we all come from different locations and we all drive different distances, it makes a lot of sense to bring a dish of food to share with each other while we visit and enjoy a home cooked meal. 

This season at the park reminds us of what we sometimes forget. We're a good church family. We're made up of a collection of many kinds of people, especially, in this area, farmers and ranchers. Just like other church families, we help each other whenever help is needed. We share our good news and our bad news and we rally around those who need prayer. And we're a close church family. We are all friends. We might not all be best friends but we are brothers and sisters in Christ and that keeps us together. 

Something wonderful happened today at the annual men's retreat and trail ride out at Mitchell's Meadow. Even though this did not happen at the park, it was an important day in this season. Several of our men church members were in attendance there. It happened that the thirteen year old son of one of the organizers had requested to be baptized at the church service. When the time came, we walked out to a grass covered field and spread out in a large circle around the big black stock waterer that was sitting there. The pastor spoke to the boy about what the act of baptism involved, and the boy's mom and dad each spoke words of love and encouragement to their son before he was baptized. A short time later, he was walking around his circle of friends with a huge smile on his face, hugging those he felt closest to. Several minutes later we were back in our chairs, and having taken communion, we were ready for the service to end. Just then a young man asked if he could say a few words. He was a new Christian and had been so moved by the baptism he had just witnessed, and so touched by the words he had just heard, that after he spoke, he asked if he could be baptized right there and then. Immediately some of the men went up to hug him...to hold him close...most with tears in their eyes. Then we all walked back to where the stock waterer was still sitting and witnessed the second baptism of the day!

 

Sandra Rafuse lives in the small town of Rockglen, Saskatchewan with her husband Bob, a Gordon Setter named Sadie, an elderly and much loved cat named Kitty, and a Peregrine falcon named Peet. She is a retired teacher and an amateur writer and is enjoying having the opportunity to share what God has been teaching her through her life experiences.                                                                                                                                                                          

P.S. Mitchell's Meadow is a meadow in land owned by one of our church families. The young man who got baptized is one of our former students.               

 

Seasons of Purpose by Bob Jones

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

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

Politics and Hockey 

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

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

Ukraine

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

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

Purposeful Writing 

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

 

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

 

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

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