Read the SCWC's January Writing Challenge winners
We're excited to have a new year of writing challenges underway again.
Our monthly writing challenges--shared through the Southern Christian Writers Conference Facebook group and via "The Ready Writer" (our home on Substack)--provide us with wonderful submissions that we're always pleased to share. This month is no different!
The January writing challenge was to create a reflection that answers the question, "What do I love about the new year?" OR "What do I dislike about the new year?" The many submissions we received revealed eloquent truths about what makes the beginning of a new year both inspiring and challenging.
Our top winners for January are:
1st place: Sharon Moore
2nd place: Matt Partain
3rd place: Crystal Manget
Honorable mention: Teresa Finch, Jessica Ross, Randall Graves, Sandra Hartlieb
Thank you to EVERYONE who submitted to the January challenge. It was extremely difficult to narrow them down to our top winners, and we want to commend all of you for your wonderful reflections.
How do we select our winners? Our top selections have a number of characteristics that make them notable, but are especially marked by a strong message, outstanding word choice, and illuminating images.
Enjoy reading our winning reflections here.
Every January, the world seems to hold its breath. But for me, it’s not just the turning of a calendar page — it’s the echo of a miracle. The world may see January as a reset button, a time for resolutions and reinvention. But I see it as a holy hush — a pause where God whispers, “Behold, I am doing a new thing.”
In my own family, that whisper became a shout of joy with the birth of my grandson, Gabriel Neal Webb, on January 4th, 2026. This precious child brings the term “a new beginning” to a whole new level.
This year, though, the doorway feels different. Not bright and beckoning, but shadowed— as if the threshold creaks under the weight of sorrow and confusion. I look around and wonder: Why are so many people of faith silent in the face of evil? Why does it seem like compassion has taken a back seat to comfort, or truth to convenience?
And yet — I still love the start of a New Year.
Not because it’s easy. But because it reminds me that God is not finished. Even when the doorway is dark, He is the Light that goes before us. Even when the world feels upside down, His promises remain upright.
I love the New Year because it calls me to remember: God doesn’t wait for perfect conditions to begin His work. He sent His Son into a world ruled by empire, injustice, and fear. And yet, even in that darkness, God’s love was victorious.
So I step through this year’s doorway with eyes wide open — to the brokenness, yes, but also to the possibility. I carry the memory of my grandson’s birth like a lantern. I hold fast to the truth that God is in control, even when I don’t understand the path.
Because the New Year isn’t about certainty. It’s about trust.
"Why I Love the Start of a New Year"
by Sharon Moore
In my own family, that whisper became a shout of joy with the birth of my grandson, Gabriel Neal Webb, on January 4th, 2026. This precious child brings the term “a new beginning” to a whole new level.
This year, though, the doorway feels different. Not bright and beckoning, but shadowed— as if the threshold creaks under the weight of sorrow and confusion. I look around and wonder: Why are so many people of faith silent in the face of evil? Why does it seem like compassion has taken a back seat to comfort, or truth to convenience?
And yet — I still love the start of a New Year.
Not because it’s easy. But because it reminds me that God is not finished. Even when the doorway is dark, He is the Light that goes before us. Even when the world feels upside down, His promises remain upright.
I love the New Year because it calls me to remember: God doesn’t wait for perfect conditions to begin His work. He sent His Son into a world ruled by empire, injustice, and fear. And yet, even in that darkness, God’s love was victorious.
So I step through this year’s doorway with eyes wide open — to the brokenness, yes, but also to the possibility. I carry the memory of my grandson’s birth like a lantern. I hold fast to the truth that God is in control, even when I don’t understand the path.
Because the New Year isn’t about certainty. It’s about trust.
It’s about choosing to believe — in the quiet conviction that love still matters and truth still speaks.
And so I begin again. Not because the world is ready, but because God is.
Not because I have all the answers, but because I know the One who does.
This is why I love the start of a New Year:
It’s not just a date.
It’s a doorway.
And God is already on the other side.
This is why I love the start of a New Year:
It’s not just a date.
It’s a doorway.
And God is already on the other side.
"A New Year"
by Matt Partain
I love the start of a new year, but I also loath it’s coming. I feel like the fireworks of New Year’s Eve after a hard rain. The humid air of my past's regrets and the wet bindings of grief threaten to stunt the fuse of joy that I should have when Christ has blessed me with another turn around His sun…also, His Son.
This year it seemed that the rain was harder and the thunder more intense; we moved Maddie out, and our home was devoid of the silliness and laughter of children for the first time since she was born. I’m not sure I’ve felt the loss of my son more profoundly than I have as this new year broke the horizon. He was two years younger than her, so her absence only amplified his.
As I walked outside our home on New Year’s Eve, taking our dogs out for the last time, surrounded by the forests of Elmore County, I saw the bloom of our nearest neighbor’s fireworks over the trees. Through the chilly air, I heard their jubilation, and I was reminded of the joy I wish I felt at that moment. I remembered when the joy of a new year was also mine. Sadness crept up, but then…I felt something foreign inside of me; a peace that shot through my soul as I watched their next firework shoot towards the sky.
I looked on as that one rocket reached towards the heavens. It spit and sputtered sparks as it decayed into the night, and then, as it reached the climax of its arc and purpose, it exploded in a beautiful display of light. There were embers that littered the night sky everywhere, and, for an instant, it seemed that the light of day had returned.
My dogs wanted back inside, scared by the sounds of the explosions, but something else entered our home with them…Hope.
I felt that God had shown me something as the new year came in. I knew that He had orchestrated His own show…just for me. I felt I had common ground with that rocket I saw piercing the night sky. Something in me, a seal He gave me, perhaps, reminded me that He is in control. The show was His and His alone. Not mine.
As I went inside, I thought back upon the old year, and I began to see the new one for what it was…
Yes, the night may be dark. Sure, the torrential rains of grief threaten to put out the spark of my life each year. But, in spite of the miserable conditions,…do I continue in my quest to show the world His glory? Have I helped God to place His love in my daughter’s heart? Am I ready to begin again? Not only a new year, but a different phase of life?
As my head found the pillow, my ears were still filled with those explosions of fireworks, and I realized something I had forgotten amidst the deep tired sigh that is December. God has given me a unique purpose in the show of His glory.
I, like that lone rocket, need to continue to reach toward the heavens…towards Him. In my wake, there should be the embers of love. My goal? To allow that one last ember of life, as my spark expires, to explode in an array of color that shows the world the one true Light. And with that, as I closed my eyes on the old year, my heart was finally ready to receive the new.
Some years have ended with a sigh of relief, while others have ended with anticipation of what is coming. Honestly, I have never given much thought about why I like the new year, let alone love. That is until now.
The coming year is full of wonder for me, as is each year. I wonder what will happen, what I need to prepare my heart for, and where God will use me. These are the things I have started pondering in my old age. When I was younger I was caught up in the me-first season of life. Starting out on my own, I did not feel the need to go to church: I did that growing up. Then I got married and felt it was time to return to religion. Still not in the God-first season. As each year passed and we attended church regularly without much connection. Then God nudged me to try a community group. This was truly a God thing, and my heart slowly started to change. Not necessarily towards God being put totally first, but still putting family first. Until death’s jolt changed my heart.
My first jolt came when my brother died. I was not prepared for his loss. I became a prayer warrior, and I talked to God while I grieved. I lost my grandparents, father-in-law, and an uncle before my second jolt: my mother died twelve years after my brother with my dad following just thirty days later. In a short time, I felt I had no one left in my family. God showed me just how wrong I was when the community group rallied around me and became my family. The third jolt was tough because we were still in the grieving season when my mother-in-law passed. When that year ended, I was truly relieved and looking forward to not having to deal with death.
As I matured in my faith, my heart shifted towards God first. Through the ups and downs of raising a child, I learned to rely more on God. But He wasn’t finished teaching me about my faith. Three years ago, it looked as if I was either going to bury my husband or at least spend Christmas in ICU. My faith kicked into overdrive. Not one time did it waiver, until he was released and I had no safety net (i.e. nurses and doctors in a moment’s notice). I became hypervigilant watching for the slightest change. Three years of this and God finally had had enough.
My hope had become what I could prevent. In 2025 the calling God placed in my life had me struggling to find footing. I became a published writer and the warfare was real. Towards the end of 2025, He showed me areas of my life He had no access to, like my husband’s health. I failed to be the prayer warrior I had been earlier in my walk. I heard the word “Surrender” and it became a new calling. As I looked at the word, God showed me a better definition of the word than I carried. My new understand was more about what I can and can’t do vs. what He can do. In God there is no can’t, He knows no boundaries. He is the one that sets the boundaries. I closed the year almost giddy about what is coming in 2026
My new year is filled with wonder and hope because of Who is directing it. Proverbs 16:9 says: “The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” This verse could not be truer for me in 2026. Happy New Year and may the God who establishes our steps be ever present in your life and plans.
As my head found the pillow, my ears were still filled with those explosions of fireworks, and I realized something I had forgotten amidst the deep tired sigh that is December. God has given me a unique purpose in the show of His glory.
I, like that lone rocket, need to continue to reach toward the heavens…towards Him. In my wake, there should be the embers of love. My goal? To allow that one last ember of life, as my spark expires, to explode in an array of color that shows the world the one true Light. And with that, as I closed my eyes on the old year, my heart was finally ready to receive the new.
"Full of Wonder and Full of Hope: Why I Love a New Year"
by Crystal Manget
The coming year is full of wonder for me, as is each year. I wonder what will happen, what I need to prepare my heart for, and where God will use me. These are the things I have started pondering in my old age. When I was younger I was caught up in the me-first season of life. Starting out on my own, I did not feel the need to go to church: I did that growing up. Then I got married and felt it was time to return to religion. Still not in the God-first season. As each year passed and we attended church regularly without much connection. Then God nudged me to try a community group. This was truly a God thing, and my heart slowly started to change. Not necessarily towards God being put totally first, but still putting family first. Until death’s jolt changed my heart.
My first jolt came when my brother died. I was not prepared for his loss. I became a prayer warrior, and I talked to God while I grieved. I lost my grandparents, father-in-law, and an uncle before my second jolt: my mother died twelve years after my brother with my dad following just thirty days later. In a short time, I felt I had no one left in my family. God showed me just how wrong I was when the community group rallied around me and became my family. The third jolt was tough because we were still in the grieving season when my mother-in-law passed. When that year ended, I was truly relieved and looking forward to not having to deal with death.
As I matured in my faith, my heart shifted towards God first. Through the ups and downs of raising a child, I learned to rely more on God. But He wasn’t finished teaching me about my faith. Three years ago, it looked as if I was either going to bury my husband or at least spend Christmas in ICU. My faith kicked into overdrive. Not one time did it waiver, until he was released and I had no safety net (i.e. nurses and doctors in a moment’s notice). I became hypervigilant watching for the slightest change. Three years of this and God finally had had enough.
My hope had become what I could prevent. In 2025 the calling God placed in my life had me struggling to find footing. I became a published writer and the warfare was real. Towards the end of 2025, He showed me areas of my life He had no access to, like my husband’s health. I failed to be the prayer warrior I had been earlier in my walk. I heard the word “Surrender” and it became a new calling. As I looked at the word, God showed me a better definition of the word than I carried. My new understand was more about what I can and can’t do vs. what He can do. In God there is no can’t, He knows no boundaries. He is the one that sets the boundaries. I closed the year almost giddy about what is coming in 2026
My new year is filled with wonder and hope because of Who is directing it. Proverbs 16:9 says: “The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” This verse could not be truer for me in 2026. Happy New Year and may the God who establishes our steps be ever present in your life and plans.
"Untouched Snow"
by Teresa Finch
That pristine sight also made me think of the new year that had just arrived. There was something about the untouched snow, waiting for the first tracks, that mirrored how this season felt in our own lives. For my husband and me, this challenging new-year held a whole new beginning. We were still newlyweds,
leaving college behind, starting a new career, and moving to another state miles away from our families. Though a bit apprehensive we were looking forward to the possibilities and adventures this new year promised.
Soon the roads had been cleared and we made our way down the hill to the frostbitten neighborhood where our friends lived. We found them already outside with their children all snuggly dressed in their warmest and brightest winter clothing, adorned with colorful scarves, woolen mittens, and hats sporting fuzzy pom-poms! Their children were already pulling their sleds up the hill and beckoning me to join them.
It was so fun watching different people and their sleds zooming down the slope with peals of laughter and glee. When it was finally my turn, I sat down on the waiting sled and took the plunge! Since it was my first time ever experiencing sledding, the speed was a thrill. The biting cold whipping my face was a shock. The snow flying all around as the blades cut through the surface was pure delight!
I made it to the bottom of that hill, but before I knew it, I zigged where I should have zagged and landed in a huge snowbank near the ditch and trees. After that abrupt ending, I was momentarily stunned. Just as quickly, though, I was back up on my feet, dusting off the wet snow, grinning from ear to ear, and ready for another turn!
That sled ride turned out to be the perfect foreshadowing, for how the new year unfolded for my husband and me. Everything was new- sometimes exciting, other times scary. We hit many bumps in the road but together we were eager to get back up and begin again.
The years have flown by, almost at the speed of that first sled ride, and I still love the beginning of each new year. It feels like a fresh landscape after snowfall, open and waiting for the first tracks, much like that snowy hill from years ago.
This season invites me to reflect on where I have been and where I am now-to notice where I stayed the course and where I may have zagged when I meant to zig. It is a time to be filled with gratitude and a time to course-correct.
Life has many twists and turns, and whenever I fall down I know I can still get up, dust myself off, and begin again. Sometimes, though, we get stuck-too deep in a snowbank to recover, frozen in moments that could otherwise be incredible experiences.
That is why the new year is important to me. It’s a time for honesty, self-reflection, and climbing back to the top of the hill. Over and over again, we take our seats, face the slope ahead, and begin again. Sometimes it is difficult, but how else can we grow?
"Permission to Begin Well: Choosing Reflection Over Repetition at the Start of a New Year"
by Jessica L. Ross
Hello there, 2026! We don't know one another yet, but we’ll become acquainted soon. I look forward to what we’ll experience together, what we’ll say “yes” and “no” to, and what you’ll teach me.
I first noticed my love of the New Year when I became a planner junkie many years ago. I don’t use planners to...well, plan. It’s actually an outlet for my brain and creativity. It’s not an “I will do what and when” space; it’s a “here’s a place to put all the untethered ideas, thoughts, musings that are running rampant in my brain.” It’s permission to think without committing. Knowing I’m working with Option B means I’m a creative. Creativity equals endless possibilities, a refusal to be boxed in. Without this kind of annual reset, I don’t become rooted; I become rutted, repeating patterns instead of examining them with honesty and intention.
With the creative juices in full swing, I considered the top three categories or challenges the New Year prompts for me. Those are necessary endings (the things I need to invite to exit or stop doing), new beginnings (the things I need to invite in or do more of), and the unknown (and this is where it gets exciting, but more on that later). Using these items as a framework, many a journal entry has been completed while prayerfully and sometimes uncomfortably pondering each, listening for where conviction meets invitation.
Necessary Endings. Stop being such a people pleaser! I often tell myself. In my first book, The Gabby Effect, I share the struggle with putting the wants and wishes of others before my own until I no longer recognized my own needs, to the point it was clinically unhealthy, and I developed anorexia into my teens and twenties. I didn’t even realize I struggled with the condition until my thirties, when truth finally had room to surface and healing could begin. This eating disorder was one to which I could say a relieved and abrupt goodbye, though learning to live differently took much longer.
New Beginnings. Setting an annual reading goal has become second nature. Being an author usually comes with a side of avid readership. How many books do I want to actually sit down and physically read this year? One year I was audacious and set my goal at 50 books, and exceeded it. What I learned? Very little that stuck. I discovered my comprehension level was at the floor. I was reading for the sake of it, not to take something away. It was time to stop the madness and ask what I actually wanted to gain.
Now my reading goal is no more than 20 books so I have a chance at retention and reflection. But I didn’t stop there. For 2026, I didn’t just set a 20-book reading goal. For each quarter, I’m selecting 3-5 specific books to read which align with my goals for that chunk of time. For instance, I’m self-publishing The Gabby Effect by April, so my reading will support that goal with intention rather than impulse and depth rather than volume.
The Unknown. This is where the rubber meets the road for the New Year. I love dreaming about the “what coulds” and “I wonder ifs” for the upcoming year. In 2026, I will be releasing my first book. The possibility of firsts excites me and exposes me. When I accomplish something big like this new book, it fuels my creativity and those unknowns become even more intriguing instead of intimidating. I’ve learned to live life with an open hand, accepting whatever may come my way with enthusiasm and trust that God is already present there, even when the outcome isn’t yet clear.
As you plan and plot your 2026, consider the things you need to stop doing, the things you should start doing (or do more of), and that exciting territory of the unknown. Keeping an open heart and mind will allow you to become someone new while remaining rooted in who you are. Left unattended, even good lives can slip into ruts. Welcome to 2026 and to the courage it takes to embrace it honestly!
I first noticed my love of the New Year when I became a planner junkie many years ago. I don’t use planners to...well, plan. It’s actually an outlet for my brain and creativity. It’s not an “I will do what and when” space; it’s a “here’s a place to put all the untethered ideas, thoughts, musings that are running rampant in my brain.” It’s permission to think without committing. Knowing I’m working with Option B means I’m a creative. Creativity equals endless possibilities, a refusal to be boxed in. Without this kind of annual reset, I don’t become rooted; I become rutted, repeating patterns instead of examining them with honesty and intention.
With the creative juices in full swing, I considered the top three categories or challenges the New Year prompts for me. Those are necessary endings (the things I need to invite to exit or stop doing), new beginnings (the things I need to invite in or do more of), and the unknown (and this is where it gets exciting, but more on that later). Using these items as a framework, many a journal entry has been completed while prayerfully and sometimes uncomfortably pondering each, listening for where conviction meets invitation.
Necessary Endings. Stop being such a people pleaser! I often tell myself. In my first book, The Gabby Effect, I share the struggle with putting the wants and wishes of others before my own until I no longer recognized my own needs, to the point it was clinically unhealthy, and I developed anorexia into my teens and twenties. I didn’t even realize I struggled with the condition until my thirties, when truth finally had room to surface and healing could begin. This eating disorder was one to which I could say a relieved and abrupt goodbye, though learning to live differently took much longer.
New Beginnings. Setting an annual reading goal has become second nature. Being an author usually comes with a side of avid readership. How many books do I want to actually sit down and physically read this year? One year I was audacious and set my goal at 50 books, and exceeded it. What I learned? Very little that stuck. I discovered my comprehension level was at the floor. I was reading for the sake of it, not to take something away. It was time to stop the madness and ask what I actually wanted to gain.
Now my reading goal is no more than 20 books so I have a chance at retention and reflection. But I didn’t stop there. For 2026, I didn’t just set a 20-book reading goal. For each quarter, I’m selecting 3-5 specific books to read which align with my goals for that chunk of time. For instance, I’m self-publishing The Gabby Effect by April, so my reading will support that goal with intention rather than impulse and depth rather than volume.
The Unknown. This is where the rubber meets the road for the New Year. I love dreaming about the “what coulds” and “I wonder ifs” for the upcoming year. In 2026, I will be releasing my first book. The possibility of firsts excites me and exposes me. When I accomplish something big like this new book, it fuels my creativity and those unknowns become even more intriguing instead of intimidating. I’ve learned to live life with an open hand, accepting whatever may come my way with enthusiasm and trust that God is already present there, even when the outcome isn’t yet clear.
As you plan and plot your 2026, consider the things you need to stop doing, the things you should start doing (or do more of), and that exciting territory of the unknown. Keeping an open heart and mind will allow you to become someone new while remaining rooted in who you are. Left unattended, even good lives can slip into ruts. Welcome to 2026 and to the courage it takes to embrace it honestly!
"A Time to Celebrate"
by Randall Graves
As we cheer the dawn of a joyous new year;
God’s gift for all humankind,
It’s a time to celebrate and rejoice--
To leave all our yesterdays behind.
God’s gift for all humankind,
It’s a time to celebrate and rejoice--
To leave all our yesterdays behind.
We’re told in the Book of Isaiah,
“... the things of long ago, consider not.”
And so, with the new year, we start anew,
Doing God’s work, which our faith has taught.
“... the things of long ago, consider not.”
And so, with the new year, we start anew,
Doing God’s work, which our faith has taught.
And too, we’re reminded in Corinthians:
“The old things have passed away,
Behold, new things have come.”
So indeed, let us celebrate this day!
“The old things have passed away,
Behold, new things have come.”
So indeed, let us celebrate this day!
Embrace it with laughter and merriment,
Or with pause and quiet solitude.
Reflect on the blessings upon you,
And God’s love in all of us imbued.
Or with pause and quiet solitude.
Reflect on the blessings upon you,
And God’s love in all of us imbued.
“For I know well the plans I have in mind for you,”
Says the Lord in the Book of Jeremiah,
“Plans for your welfare, not for woe!”
In time, sending us his son, the Messiah.
Says the Lord in the Book of Jeremiah,
“Plans for your welfare, not for woe!”
In time, sending us his son, the Messiah.
So let the new year give rise to hope,
As we trust in God’s everlasting promise,
As we bask in the glory of his love,
Giving thanks for his grace bestowed upon us.
There are no left-over to-do lists from last year. No scribbled notes from the last zoom meeting. There are no bullet points outlining the project that didn’t get finished. No doodles carved out of boredom. No list of tasks waiting to be incorporated into the next project.
It’s clean, crisp, blank pages are an invitation. They beckon me to set the tip of my gel pen down and begin the flow of something new, something original or innovative. It might be a thought that never lived in my mind before until I snatched it from an accidental conversation. Perhaps it will be a word of immense weight, or a swirl of fluttery imagination. It could possibly be a date that forever anchors this journal in time.
That’s what a New Year on the calendar feels like to me. New possibilities, new adventures, unexpected moments of joy and sorrow, clarity and mystery all at the same time! This may sound cliché or prosaic. (Pardon me, I use such words because I’m a writer and a reader. The combination of letters and sounds tickles my senses.) But it’s true, many people will scoff at the folly of believing that a new year will inexplicably initiate a new mindset, a fresh outlook, a different perspective.
There are those who will say, “it’s just the next day on your calendar. Why get excited about it?” But, I say, “a new year motivates me. It agitates and provokes me. A new year stirs up something inside of me that believes in magic.” I’m talking about the magic of expectation, the suspense of not knowing what will occur in the next 365 days. The certainty that something will occur in the new year that I have never experienced before. A new year is much like opening a gift. Despite all the beautiful wrapping and ribbons of the presentation, we all want to rip it open to see what’s inside!
We mark our greatest memories and highest achievements by the year. It was 1970 that I got married. In 1971 I had my first child. The year that I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Savior was 1981. I (finally) got a college degree in 1993. My mother died in 2014. My first book was published in 2022. Each of those years began on January 1st. The day before was a different year, but each January first presented me with brand new possibilities, chances, joys, heartbreaks, failures and achievements. Each of them was a blank page waiting for me to set the tip of my pen on the creamy surface.
As we trust in God’s everlasting promise,
As we bask in the glory of his love,
Giving thanks for his grace bestowed upon us.
"Blank Pages"
by Sandra Hartlieb
I crack open the cover of a beautiful new journal. It’s leather-like, purple, and just the right size for a tote bag. Inside the pages are a creamy beige, lined and thick enough so markers don’t bleed through. Each page stares at me with open expectation, completely blank, waiting for my next inspiration. My fingers turn the pages and trace down the smooth surface unblemished by pen and ink. I’m in heaven!
There are no left-over to-do lists from last year. No scribbled notes from the last zoom meeting. There are no bullet points outlining the project that didn’t get finished. No doodles carved out of boredom. No list of tasks waiting to be incorporated into the next project.
It’s clean, crisp, blank pages are an invitation. They beckon me to set the tip of my gel pen down and begin the flow of something new, something original or innovative. It might be a thought that never lived in my mind before until I snatched it from an accidental conversation. Perhaps it will be a word of immense weight, or a swirl of fluttery imagination. It could possibly be a date that forever anchors this journal in time.
That’s what a New Year on the calendar feels like to me. New possibilities, new adventures, unexpected moments of joy and sorrow, clarity and mystery all at the same time! This may sound cliché or prosaic. (Pardon me, I use such words because I’m a writer and a reader. The combination of letters and sounds tickles my senses.) But it’s true, many people will scoff at the folly of believing that a new year will inexplicably initiate a new mindset, a fresh outlook, a different perspective.
There are those who will say, “it’s just the next day on your calendar. Why get excited about it?” But, I say, “a new year motivates me. It agitates and provokes me. A new year stirs up something inside of me that believes in magic.” I’m talking about the magic of expectation, the suspense of not knowing what will occur in the next 365 days. The certainty that something will occur in the new year that I have never experienced before. A new year is much like opening a gift. Despite all the beautiful wrapping and ribbons of the presentation, we all want to rip it open to see what’s inside!
We mark our greatest memories and highest achievements by the year. It was 1970 that I got married. In 1971 I had my first child. The year that I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Savior was 1981. I (finally) got a college degree in 1993. My mother died in 2014. My first book was published in 2022. Each of those years began on January 1st. The day before was a different year, but each January first presented me with brand new possibilities, chances, joys, heartbreaks, failures and achievements. Each of them was a blank page waiting for me to set the tip of my pen on the creamy surface.
~~~~~~~
We hope you enjoyed reading these reflections as much as we did! They're filled with wonderful words and inspiring messages--and remind us of the talented group of creatives we have through the Southern Christian Writers Conference. (We publish each of the winning entries from our monthly challenges in The Write Collection, an anthology that comes out each December. You can get The Write Collection from 2025 on Amazon in ebook format. CLICK HERE to check it out.)
Want to participate in next month's challenge?
The February Writing Challenge is to create a fictional short story using the first line: "I never imagined that I could fall in love with ..." Please keep the story to 1200 words or less, and email it to scwritersconference@gmail.com (with "February Challenge" in the subject line) by Feb. 25.
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