May 23, 2026

Woodlawn Blue by Joylene Bailey


 ~~~~~

I've written in many places in my lifetime: at the island in the kitchen as dinner simmers on the stove, on my dining room table before the dishes have been cleared away, in coffee shops, on the front porch in the mornings, in a journal on a cruise ship, on my daughter's couch with a newborn grandbaby in one arm ... and the list goes on. I can write anywhere. But I would say my most creative work happens when and where I can be solitary and uninterrupted. That place is at my desk in the early mornings.

Jane Austen wrote several novels on a portable mahogany writing desk which she placed on a small twelve-sided tripod table. This was in the dining room of the home she shared with her mom and sister. In the movie, Miss Austen Regrets, there's a compelling scene that takes place in this room. I don't know how true it is to Jane's life, but it depicts everything I feel when I am deep into writing and an interruption occurs.

In the scene, Jane is writing at her little desk when sister Cassandra comes in to set the table. Cassandra is being as quiet as one can be with clinking silverware and porcelain plates, but Jane is distracted from her writing. She doesn't move, save for lifting her pen from the page and holding it there until Cassandra leaves the room. Then she begins to write again. It's the action of someone who doesn't want to lose the thought, so she freezes in time to hold onto it until the distraction is done. How I resonate with that! I need quiet, with no interruptions.

I'm pretty sure I'm writing all the time. I'm certainly observing with writing in mind, even when I don't realize I'm doing it.

The way the cashier tucks her hair behind her ear becomes the quirk of a secondary character. Questions my grandkids ask turn into what-ifs. How a certain word rolls off the tongue in the middle of a conversation with the piano tuner fills the blank in my manuscript. It's all fodder.

But the actual sit-down-work-at-my-computer writing happens at home in my favourite room. For years I'd dreamed of this space. It had to be big enough to embrace my quilting, my own library, and a spacious writing desk. This dream was finally realized four years ago when I entered my sixties.

The walls are painted Woodlawn Blue, with trim in Cloud White. Large windows on two walls face north and east, letting in golden sunrises and lots of light. Wafting breezes billow the lace curtains. If that sounds idyllic, it is, even when quilting projects clutter the sewing table and resource books crowd my desk. It's a place where I can close the door if I need to, when I don't want to be interrupted. My best work happens here. It's my sacred space.

I come here in the mornings, when the light shining through the windows sweeps the bookshelves with a golden pink glow and tiptoes across the floor into the living room beyond. The only distractions come from outside: birds chirping in season, our neighbour's rooster cock-a-doodling, the odd coyote howling in the distance. However, these are less distractions than they are reminders that God is over all. It's here, in this sacred space, where I feel His pleasure when I write.

Jane Austen might have wished for a more private place to write, at a proper desk with an ergonomic chair. But maybe not. After all, she managed to write seven novels that have remained popular for over two hundred years, mostly on a little twelve-sided table. Would she have considered that her sacred space?

I finished this post on my granddaughter's tenth birthday, in my daughter's bright living room. At times it was noisy and chaotic with excitement. So yes, I can write anywhere, but I do write best at home, in my sacred space of Woodlawn Blue.

~~~~~

Feature Photo from Pixabay




Joy writes from her Woodlawn Blue writing space in lake country, Alberta, where she lives with The Cowboy and their livestock - a dog and two cats. As a gentle encourager, she writes short stories, articles, and poetry for adults, and stories for children. She is working on a longer work of fiction. Find more of her joy-infused writing at Scraps of Joy.





 

May 22, 2026

We Can Write In The Margins by Mary Folkerts



Life is a beautiful, breathtaking, awe-inspiring journey strewn with hard decisions, unexpected diagnoses, unfulfilled dreams, and broken promises. No one is exempt from hard things. The expectation of a pain-free life is unrealistic, but that doesn't mean it can’t still be a wonderful life!

What if there was a way to reclaim that brokenness and bring some purpose to the hurt we’ve experienced by leaving breadcrumbs of hope for others to follow? Bread crumbs that lead those who find themselves in similar circumstances to a place of understanding and maybe even peace?

When our daughter was born with Down syndrome, I found myself scouring the internet, looking for words of comfort. I wanted to know what others before us had experienced, how they dealt with the diagnosis, the best resources and therapies, and the possible outcomes. Would she reach the milestones, read books, or ride a bike? What potential did she have for a quality life? We were not the first to ask these difficult questions, and I was grateful to those who took the time to be vulnerable and share their stories.

The experiences we have in life always change us. They can make us better or bitter. If we let them make us better and stronger, we have an excellent opportunity to share what we’ve learned with others and how it can, in turn, help them. Sharing our journey will be the continuation of our own healing process.

Inspiration strikes us wherever God is—which is everywhere and anywhere

To share your story doesn’t mean you must have a designated desk and chair at which you spend hours upon hours writing. It can mean writing it down in the margins of your day, before you begin your chores, or in the evenings as the day winds down. It can mean that when you find yourself alone, on the drive, in the garden or in the bathroom, that the words pour out and you grab your phone or paper to quickly record what God placed there.

Now, in saying that, when a deadline looms for a project, or I have dedicated work I need to get done, I find I like to go into my room and sit at my desk (or walk on my walking pad as I have a standing desk). When I turn on my lamp and set out my laptop, it triggers my brain that it’s time to get to work. I have been working on a poetry book—poetry for the anxious soul—slated for early fall publication, so this is where I will do this work.

Inspiration strikes us wherever God is—which is everywhere and anywhere. We need to be ready to capture those words before they are lost to the wind.





Mary Folkerts is mom to four kids and wife to a farmer, living on the southern prairies of Alberta, where the skies are large and the sunsets stunning. She is a member of Proverbs 31 Ministries' COMPEL Writers Training, involved in church ministries and music. Mary’s blog aims to encourage and inspire women and advocate for those with Down Syndrome, as their youngest child introduced them to this extraordinary new world. For more inspiration, check out Joy in the Small Things https://maryfolkerts.com/ or connect on Instagram
https://www.instagram.com/maryfolkerts/

May 20, 2026

Writing in the Sacred Space by Sharon Heagy




As I snuggled down among the bedclothes not quite ready to leave that sleepy half-awake state, a thought came to my brain. It's Mother's Day. The airwaves and social media had been bombarding our thoughts since Easter, spouting ideas and filling mothers' brains with visions of lovely Sunday brunches full of pastel colours, cloth napkins, real silverware and well dressed, perfectly behaved young children in glass walled restaurants where the sunlight beams in with heavenly rays, when what moms really want is a nap. I found out recently that many a mom would like to check into a hospital, just for a day or two, not to be sick but to have some rest and be served meals that someone else cooked. And even though that is not the reality of hospital life any more than a perfect Sunday Brunch, it gave me solace to know that I wasn't the only one who had that thought cross their mind when life with kids got crazy.

Mother's Day for many means choking down burnt toast and scrambled eggs, with a few crunchy shells thrown in for good measure, while wide eyed, expectant, flannel clad children look on as Mom, who may be riding post birth waves of hormonal instability, takes those first few bites of an almost inedible breakfast made with love. With a few gulps of coffee to wash it down and regain use of her vocal cords she announces, "It's wonderful. Thank you so much! I love it." The chubby cheeked cherubs break out in ear-to-ear smiles, relieved that Mom is loving their feast. Before she can clear her plate the kids are bringing out homemade artistic gifts from the cut and paste club, where more paint and glue stick to clothes and hair and hands than to paper. And the drawings! A wee bit Picasso and a wee bit 'what on earth is that' which, now that I think of it, is much like some Picassos. Mothers must develop an ability to discover the intention of their young artists without causing distress and unhappiness and ruining their, I mean her, day.

For many, this day of recognition is wonderful and welcome, for others it is a day to be endured and for some it is a day filled with sorrow. Yet, all these reactions come from a place of love. Whether it be a longing to share love, a love that has been lost or a love that stands beside the bed wide eyed. And all of it comes from God, who is Love.

When I popped awake that morning a few weeks ago, I realized that writing doesn't always need a specific place or time. In fact, I was amazed that my brain was firing at all in those early moments. The hamster that runs the wheel in my head hadn't even had breakfast and my desk in the basement was basking in a sunbeam dust dance.

Even as I write this post, I am not in the familiar surroundings of my own house or town but I am in the big city watching over my grandchildren. It had me a bit worried to be honest. The pressure of a deadline in the uncertainty of life on a different schedule had me slightly nervous. But what I am finding is, it is good to write in unfamiliar places with fresh perspectives. It is a good exercise, not to be feared but embraced!

The kids and I were walking home from the store and were taking a shortcut down the lane when we came across a pile of dirt and a ladder on the lane side of a fence. I asked them to make up a story about the ladder and the dirt, which both seemed to be in odd spots. Why was the dirt not closer to the gate? And why was the ladder there? It seemed to have no purpose whatsoever in the place it had been set. We could not see through the fence to see what was on the yard side that might explain this mystery. They came up with a few ideas as I encouraged them to go beyond the obvious and use their brilliant imaginations. While listening to them, my own mind was swirling with possibilities that would somehow connect to Jacob's ladder.

Heading home after walking the youngest to school, I was forced from the sidewalk by a bike gang and was almost attacked by some of the wildlife in this city! Ok, really there was just one kid on a bike and I stepped out of his way and the wildlife was a single rabbit. But the ideas were there.

The ideas will come wherever your brain goes. Recall all the places Paul wrote. He wrote while travelling, while ministering, and while in prison. The nudges and notions will come wherever Love lives, which is everywhere. He who is not bound by time or space can take whatever we encounter and turn it into a piece for His purposes. Though I know this, it still comes as a revelation after being told to set up a specific space for my creative juices to flow. It seems to me now that both are true and if both these things are possible, how many more wonderful pieces will be added to the puzzle of writing as God leads.

I still prefer to write in the sacred basement space, but I am coming to realize wherever I am is sacred because He is there. Thanks be to God.

 



Sharon Heagy writes from the wonderful town of Rockglen, Saskatchewan, where she lives with her husband, a big dog and furry cats. She writes to bring hope and humour to a world that needs both. She can be reached at sharonheagy@gmail.com


Thanks for taking the time to visit today. God bless.


May 19, 2026

Welcome to My Office by Dana-Lyn Phillips

 



I consider myself lucky in a lot of ways. My home office comes with its own coffee machine, refrigerator, stove and sink. Not only does this make endless cups of coffee convenient, but it also ensures that I can have a hot lunch each day if I want.

If you’re confused, thinking that it sounds like more of a kitchen than an office…you’re right.

We live in a 950 square foot bungalow with only a partially finished basement.  With a husband, two kids, and a dog, there's honestly no where to go...ever.  So, that's why the kitchen table has become my desk.

Is it ideal? Of course not, but I work with what I have.

When I first started writing daily, and setting up a space on Substack, I was spending 12+ hours a day at the table with a small laptop. It wasn’t long, before this ergonomical nightmare created problems so deep within my body, that it took multiple osteopathic treatments to recover.

That prompted the purchase of a very expensive, memory foam seat cushion, which has brought my tushy, and back, much relief. Honestly, it was worth every penny.

My laptop sits on a shoebox that is layered with books, in an effort to raise the screen to the optimal height. A quick trip, to the electronic graveyard in our basement, provided me with an old keyboard that enabled me to type at a more appropriate level.

I’m not going to lie, it’s not pretty, and it’s definitely not professional, but it gets the job done. That’s all that matters…right?

Before any writing takes place, my mornings begin with God. Since my writing (mostly) focuses on encouraging others in their faith, I would never be equipped, if I was not feeding myself spiritually first. I generally rely on the Holy Spirit’s leading for topics, and references, so this is the most important part of my day—vital to my own spiritual growth, but also for the success of my writing.

Next, is a hot cup of coffee and a quick call with mom. Yes, we talk every morning. Since my father’s passing, two decades ago, this has become a daily routine. Not only is it a good check-in, to make sure she is alive and well, but it’s also a time of encouragement. My mom is one of my biggest supporters when it comes to my writing.

By 9:30 a.m. the work begins. Everyone has finally left home for work or school. The dog has been out at least three times (insert eyeroll here), so he’s finally ready to settle in next to me for the long haul.

My mornings are generally super productive. If I am on a roll, I will often write until 1 p.m. at which point my stomach reminds me that I missed lunch. A quick bite to eat, and a loop around the block with the pooch, enable me to return to the kitchen chair for another couple of hours.

I’m not often distracted, but when I am, it is usually because it's a really nice day out and I find myself staring out the window. Since the eye doctor once told me it’s good to take breaks during the day to stare into the distance and reset my eyes, I feel these breaks are not only justified but mandated.

I’m still pretty new to this world of writing, so I haven’t dealt with writer's block often, but when I do, it’s pretty scary…especially when I have a deadline to meet. The best antidote, I have found, is prayer, and playing some Christian music way too loud. On days when I am really stumped, there may be some dancing, but I will deny it if anyone asks.

Maybe one day the kids will move out and I’ll have an office of my own. One with corner windows, a new computer, an ergonomical chair, and a built in speaker system necessary for those rare days when writer’s block hits and nothing will suffice but a dance party.

It’s good to have dreams right?

 


Dana-Lyn is a wife, and mother to teenage boys as well as a 14-year-old cava-poo named Hockley. She is passionate about encouraging Christian women in their faith and is stepping into her mid-life "calling" as a writer. Her happy place consists of a comfy chair, a great book, a hot cup of coffee and a chocolate…or three! You can read more of her work at https://plansfargreater.substack.com





May 16, 2026

My Places to Write by Alan Anderson

 



Physical Places

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

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

A Different Perspective

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

The Place of My Inner Landscape

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Alan lives in a small village called Deroche, British Columbia, with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He enjoys walking on the dike near his home, with trees all around and where he finds inspiration to write. He has occasionally written articles for FellowScript Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship blog. Alan’s website and blog is https://scarredjoy.ca. He also writes on Substack.

May 14, 2026

The Search for the Ideal Writing Spot by Steph Beth Nickel



 

a coffeeshop 

i wish

but the espresso machine

the buzz of conversation

the bell that sounds

every. single. time

the door opens

nope

not a coffeeshop

<sigh>


the park

i should be walking

i should be taking photos

i should have worn

bug spray

sunscreen

a hat

nope

not the park

<double sigh>


my desk

nonexistent

happens in the midst of renos

 in its place

couch that needs replacing

multipurpose couch

reading nook

dining area

location for napping


for now

the couch is it

my makeshift writing spot

ideal

far from it

but workable

temporary

a spot

to be grateful for


but maybe

just maybe

i'll give the coffeeshop

or even the park

another try


how about you



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 this year or next. (Headshot Photo Credit: Jaime Mellor Photography)



May 12, 2026

A Variety of Writing Spaces by Sandi Somers

 



I once read an article about all the gymnastics the author Vivian Gornick did to set herself up to write her book. She needed the perfect desk, the perfect light, the perfect life. While she busied herself with all these preparations, the time for writing never came.

“Relatable, right?” the article went on to say. “The truth is, you can write anywhere, anyhow, on scraps of paper, while you are bored, miserable, or half dead. So sit down and write your book.” (Thanks also to Lorrie for her delightful poem on how she can write anywhere).

My writing spaces (among others)

I begin in the early mornings at my kitchen table for my quiet time with the Lord. In the coziness of a small space, it feels intimate. My mind is clear and not yet filled with the day’s responsibilities. Often I encounter a new gold nugget from deep in the Lord’s treasure house, and an idea sparks for a devotional or article. I write an outline-of-sorts and then dictate the pre-draft or draft into my cellphone to be later transferred and developed into a Word document.

Then I move to my dining room table where I revise or edit. Why the table? My current home has a small office with a north-facing window. When I first moved here, I wrote in that office. One spring morning, I emerged from my writing to sit in the sunshine on my east-facing porch. “I can’t continue to write in there—it’s too closed in!” I told myself. After experimenting with different rooms, I chose the table in my large living room with a window to the east. Occasionally I look up from my work, and my spirit expands to the world around me—snow, sunshine, and at this season, tree leaves budding out.

From spring to autumn, I walk to a nearby park or pond (that’s the photo above). Walking helps me process prayers, life issues, and gives me writing ideas or solutions.

At night ideas can flow in that in-between sleeping and waking state. I turn on the light and scribble a few notes, or even an outline, in a notepad I keep beside my bed. Very often these ideas are significant, and writing solidifies what might dissipate by morning.

I also write notes during church services and while waiting for my doctor’s or dentist’s appointment.

Why do authors choose their writing spaces?

I love reading about how famous writers designate a specific time and place to give focused attention to their work. Check out Nicole Bianche’s article here.

● To ensure they won’t get distracted.

Maya Angelou needed a sterile space away from home. She rented a hotel room, stripped any artwork from the walls, and wrote.

I couldn’t be like Annie Dillard who wrote in a dark room. She even said the children playing a game outside would distract her, so she pulled down the blinds and drew a picture of the children. My question was: Does she have ADHD? Is she easily distracted? (I shiver to even think of writing in this darkness!)

● To establish routines to heighten motivation

Ernest Hemingway said he sharpened 12 pencils first thing in the morning. As a writer before the computer age, he needed to be prepared for his day’s work.

The prolific Isaac Asimov kept five or six typewriters in his writing room, each for a separate book he was working on. When he began for the day, he would choose a topic, go to that specific typewriter, slide in a blank paper, and type his many words. (We can equal that. With our computers, we can click from one project to another in seconds.).

● To focus, despite spatial limitations.

Jane Austen of Pride and Prejudice wrote from the table in their house, a house with parents, five daughters, and servants. When guests arrived, she’d tuck her draft pages under a book and be sociable.

Authors with small children adapt. Harriet Beecher Stowe wrote Uncle Tom’s Cabin, a major influence on freeing slaves in the US, often with a child on her lap. Our Canadians Karen Stiller and Patricia Paddy initially had to clear away someone’s artwork or homework before they could begin. When making a business call, they hoped the little ones would be quiet long enough before yelling, “Mom!”

Conclusion

No matter where we write, we write for the Lord. I’m often reminded of Psalm 45:1: “My heart is stirred by a noble theme as I recite my verses for the king; my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer.” And as Dallas Willard said, “you must arrange your days so that you are experiencing deep contentment, joy, and confidence in your everyday life with God.[i]


[i] Dallas Willard, in Patricia Paddy & Karen Stiller, (Craft, Cost & Call, Victoria, BC: Friesen Press, 2019), 97




May 09, 2026

Spaces - Tangible and Internal - Take Two by Valerie Ronald




Back in 2024, when our blog prompt was a letter of the alphabet for each month, I wrote this post for the letter S. This is a repeat of that post because my favourite space to write is still my old rolltop desk. It is the birthplace of my first book, soon to be published, so I’ve spent many hours here lately.

When my mother left me a gift of money in her will, the first purchase I made with it was an oak rolltop desk, something I knew she would want me to own. From the time I showed an interest as a child until her passing, she encouraged and supported my desire to write. Whenever I roll up the cover on my desk, I feel her loving presence. 

The handsome old desk stands in an alcove, its worn wood interior smoky with thousands of words forged in the fires of my imagination, meditations and experiences. To me it is not just a desk, it is a sacred space where, as I practice my craft, I feel the Holy Spirit flow through me. I keep a scented candle burning nearby when I write, to remind me it is not by might, nor by power, but by His Spirit I am given the words He may possibly use to draw others to Himself. 

There are other spaces where I sometimes write, however, this desk is where creativity happens most often. It contains tools like my laptop, dictionaries, writing books, pens and sticky notes. Its cubbyholes and drawers are messy and cluttered with the debris of a busy mind. I like it that way. Then there are treasures which motivate me, like a stuffed frog with its acronym attached on a label˗˗˗Fully Rely On God, or a trinket box embellished with a porcelain fountain pen. Above my desk hangs a painting by my daughter, of a woman’s hands holding an open book. 

Every writer has a favourite space to write, whether at the kitchen table, in a private study, at a cafe or outside in a garden. Our space where we write is important to us. I find it interesting to see photos of the writing spaces of well-known authors. When in Paris, I visited an English bookstore where Ernest Hemingway used to write. His desk, typewriter, and some of his books were still there, tucked away in a quiet corner of the shop. It was inspiring to be where some of his great works were created. 

Physical space for writing is important, but not as key as mental space. Nowadays the time and energy required to function in our culture is often not conducive to a writer’s need for mental space. Creating mental space for writing to thrive is about giving the mind the chance to clear and reset, while also letting the subconscious get to work in the background. When I am asked to describe my writing process, I say that most of the work goes on in my mind before I actually get down to writing. 

The best of ideas and problem-solving occur when I am doing some simple activity not requiring deep focus, like cooking, going for a walk, or gardening. When it feels as though I am thinking about nothing, I am giving myself mental space, so my subconscious has free rein. The key is to find something that takes my mind off of my work in progress, so it has a chance to grow organically. Daydreaming is an absolute necessity in my life as a writer, providing a mental space where ideas can percolate in my subconscious while I focus on a simpler activity. 

We are fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God, whose creativity is beyond understanding. He created us to be writers, so He knows what we need to write˗˗˗both tangible and internal spaces where, prompted by His Spirit, our words create worlds inspired by Him.

Valerie Ronald writes from an old roll top desk in Portage la Prairie, Manitoba, with her tortoiseshell cat for a muse. A graduate of Langara College School of Journalism, she writes devotionals, fiction and inspirational prose. Her purpose in writing is to encourage others to grow in their spiritual walk

May 08, 2026

My Writing Space by Carol Harrison

  



For years, my chosen writing space has been on my computer at my desk. My style of desk has changed over the years as has the space around it. Rarely have I had the luxury of a separate office. Often, as now, the office space is in a corner of my bedroom. The area around the desk could be called cluttered for it often is. Yet many of the objects on and above my desk inspire me, relax me, and intrigue me. The pictures on the shelves above the desk area include paintings by people I know, old photos, and two book covers for books I have written.

I have a large mirrored word, DREAM, hanging just above my desk as a reminder to let my imagination soar and work towards dreams I may have. There is also a painted word, BELIEVE, sitting on my desk and another that says, REJOICE ALWAYS. Good reminders every day. Small rocks including geodes sit on shelves by my desk. Some little rocks in containers are shiny or little gemstones. Others are plain and smooth with words like HOPE, FAITH, SMILE and WISDOM printed on them. More great reminders for daily life and in my writing as well.

Outside my window, beside the desk area, is a large evergreen tree. Lots of birds make their nests in it. During spring and summer, when my window is open, I enjoy the birds singing. It is a calm, peaceful spot to open the computer and type my thoughts into a new word document. I can type faster than I can write longhand and so for years my go to method meant working on the computer, opening a new word document, and watching a piece of writing transform from an idea in my mind to words and sentences on the screen.

If I wanted to journal or jot ideas down on paper, I liked to curl up in a comfy chair in the living room, letting the light shine in from the large window beside it. Almost three years ago I stopped most of my writing. Oh, I continued to grab a nice writing pen and pretty journal and sit in that comfy chair by the window. I could write longhand journal entries and even the few other bits of writing I have worked on these last few years. I began jotting more family stories in this manner. Later I typed them into the computer and printed them off for the grandchildren for Christmas.

I find morning or early afternoon have proven the most productive for writing over the years. By late afternoon and evening, my mind wanders to other activities and family time. Despite knowing a writing routine might be a great thing, I have never written daily. It allows some spontaneity but also makes me easily procrastinate, which isn’t good. If I have a specific project on the go, I write more frequently than if no firm ideas are in place.

I still need quiet other than something as soothing as bird song to concentrate on writing anything, even journal entries. But what changed my preferred space and method of writing in the last three years? The short answer is I am not sure. Sitting at the computer felt like a chore. I had excuses like poor lighting and a very messy desk as papers piled up on and around the computer which felt like too much effort to sort through.

I’ve run a few pens out of ink, completed more notebooks and journals, and continue to enjoy the pieces of things that inspire me. Maybe one day I’ll sort the clutter, find hidden treasures I’ve jotted down and revert to having my desk once again become my first choice of writing environment. while thoughts become words and completed pieces on my computer. Until then I’ll grab a notebook, good pen, and enjoy my comfy chair for the times I actually think of something to write.

 

Carol Harrison types her pieces on to her laptop amidst the mess of her cluttered desk area in Saskatoon, SK. She writes in a variety of genres, but really enjoys the family stories to tell or write down for her family.

May 05, 2026

Writing While Walking by Michelle Joy Teigrob

 


I do my best writing away from screens and notebooks, usually while I’m out on a long walk in the countryside. The writing all takes place inside my head. However, I may tap out a quick reminder note in my phone if I’m worried that I’ll forget what my brain has spun.

I have noticed that the most inspiring words and ideas show up as I near the end of my long trek. Could it be due to the increased levels of oxygen hitting my brain, I’ve wondered? Certainly, all that exercise seems to be sending my blood cells marching more than they usually do.

It turns out I’m far from alone in finding that I’m most creative when I’m walking. Studies have compared the creativity levels of people while sitting versus while walking, either outside or on a treadmill. In one series of three experiments, 81%, 88%, and 100% of participants demonstrated higher levels of creativity when walking as compared to when sitting (Oppezzo and Schwartz).

And this boost in inventiveness does apparently stem in part from the heightened action in one’s veins and arteries, I’ve also learned. Walking may hike blood flow by about 25%, feeding the brain more of its favourite fuel – oxygen and glucose (Montago).

Of course, after the walk, I do need to sit down before a computer screen and transcribe my thoughts. The best time for doing that, I’ve learned, is early morning, when there’s no risk of interruption from anyone for at least a good hour. The absolute stillness of the house in that time allows me to focus in ways that I find difficult throughout most of the rest of my busy day.

For me, my creativity tends to calcify in front of a computer screen. However, give me some fresh air, a long road flanked by open fields, and bird-song, and, while I will never be a C.S. Lewis or John Milton, I certainly enjoy many more adventures of the imagination than if I’d stayed home on my couch.


Michelle Joy Teigrob is an author, college instructor, mom of three, and wife of one. She grew up as a missionary kid in Belize, Central America, the youngest of 10 children. In addition to her twin’s death, she has since lived through the loss of two other sisters. Michelle's new book, Joyfully Star-Mapping through Life's Dung Piles, shares about her journey through her wrenching sadness. Visit www.michellejoybooks.ca to learn more.

References

Oppezzo, M., & Schwartz, D. L. (2014). Give your ideas some legs: the positive effect of walking on creative thinking. Journal of experimental psychology. Learning, memory, and cognition, 40(4), 1142–1152. https://doi.org/10.1037/a0036577

Montago, Margaretha. (February 22, 2025). Does Walking Make You More Creative (and Better at Problem-Solving)? DOI: https://margarethamontagu.com/does-walking-make-you-more-creative/


May 03, 2026

In God’s Office by Peggianne Wright




I have long held that romantic vision of the writer sitting in the far corner of a coffee shop, sipping a flat white while tapping furiously on the keys of their laptop; the image of a "real" writer. But, me? Ha. I'm lucky if I get five words typed while I sit in a public space like the library or coffee shop. I just cannot shift my attention from the distraction of people watching to the serious focus on my writing.

Truth be told, my fur-kids have attention spans much greater than mine! I put it down to the curse of multi-tasking over all those decades since I first began working in 1979. As the craze of multi-tasking became what was considered in the business world the pillar of strength and a top resume accolade, I'm pretty sure that for me, I was training myself how to begin far too many tasks at once, and as a result creating nothing but stress and anxiety in the effort to complete each one perfectly. What I have discovered, at least about myself, is that my ability to focus was forever compromised in the pursuit of successful multi-tasking.

Fast forward to present day.

As I have embraced my writing life in my retirement from the business world, I have had to contend with the multi-tasking impulse so ingrained in my brain. My even greater struggle is my ability to focus. Obviously, social media has also played a significant role in the way all of us deal with focusing on specific tasks or dealing with various other undertakings.

The verse "Let your eyes look straight ahead; fix your gaze directly before you" (Proverbs 4:27 NIV) reminds me that, as a Christian writer, the most important focus should be first on the Lord. And what better place to do that than in the midst of nature?

My husband and I are blessed to have a small home nestled on the edge of a tiny forest. Our back porch oasis has become the perfect space during our oh-so-short warm season to spend time with God. Early mornings, as the sun dawns, find me savouring my steaming first cup, snuggled with my fur-kids, Bible, and devotional. The rustling trees and musical birdsong, a chorus of several native species, stirs my senses and reminds me of God's presence at that moment.

It's here too, in this idyllic setting of God's office, that I spend hours with my thoughts; writing devotionals and other works that I pray will reveal His great wonder and powerful love for us all. This quiet office of nature provides heavenly inspiration as I reflect on the profound majesty of Creation. Here, in the solitude, I can at last find focus through the peacefulness of the moment. Here, I can fix my gaze directly on Him and furiously tap out the messages He has placed on my heart.

However, as the seasons change, so too does my writing venue. The cooler days of spring and fall and the frigid, snowy days of winter find me nestled cozily in my study. A space lovingly filled with shelves full of my favourite books and family heirlooms; the "closet" of God's office, in which to harness my focus and fix my gaze.

But, regardless of the physical settings, my writing goes on constantly in my head. As my multi-tasking schedule dictates much of my day, words and sentences, ideas and themes will present themselves and thus, my writing space, and God's office, may become the line in the grocery store, the bedroom as I make the bed, the gas station as I fill my tank while I quickly jot them in an app on my phone.

God has blessed me with the love of books, words, and writing and has tasked me to use this passion in a way that will share the Gospel, encourage love and kindness, and hopefully edify those who may read my scribbles. As the Holy Spirit guides me, I will embrace the spaces that inspire words and stories, in whatever season it may be, and know that so long as I fix my gaze, I'll keep my focus in God's office.



Peggianne Wright is a published author and is the founder of the pet parent ministry Paws To Pray, blending her passion for the Lord and all-things-K9 to form this unique, faith-based community. Peggianne is an ardent Bible study student, devoted dog mom, wife of 44 years, and lover of music. Her blogs Spiritual Scribbles and Fur-Kid Fanatics can be found on her website www.PawsToPray.ca and you can follow her on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/PawsToPray/ and on IG @Sister_In_Prayer.




May 02, 2026

In The Quiet Spaces by Bob Jones

   



Quiet.

I thrive in quiet spaces.

I'm like a sheep that the Psalm 23rd shepherd leads beside still waters.

My writing gets done in several environments, but they share the common quality of quiet. Noise, sounds, music, and even the sound of a television show in a distant room are annoying distractions. I write best behind closed doors.

Most of my writing life is spent in a backroom in our home at an antique, roll top desk. My wife describes the desktop as a nightmare. It’s the opposite of quiet. It holds trophies awarded to our sons, books, pictures, a lantern, artwork, collectible Coke bottles and Jones soda bottles and items from Ukraine. It's a beast to dust.

There's a B&W framed picture of me holding my grandfather’s Chihuahua in front of his ’57 Chrysler when I was three years old.

Those items don't inspire my writing; they inspire my life because they’re rooted in history and the people who mean the world to me.

My favourite quote is taped to the front portion of the roll top.
“Concerning all acts of initiative in creation, there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. And all sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance which no man could have dreamed could have come his way.”

Scottish mountaineer W.H. Murray

I write best in the fall, winter, and spring when it's cooler. Early mornings are the only time that work for me in the summer months. Our home does not have air conditioning, and by at 11 AM on most summer days the heat is already oppressive. So, the bulk of my writing gets crammed in between October and May.

I write something every day without fail.

Some days there's only three sentences. Other days, there's 3000 words. The outcome is determined by other responsibilities but also my frame of mind. I can easily bear down and focus when I'm inspired. A few hours feel like minutes. I imagine you know the feeling.

There are few things more fulfilling than hitting the publish button.

That quiets my heart.


 

 

May 01, 2026

I Will Write Words Everywhere by Lorrie Orr

 


Our May blog prompt is: Time and Place
Where do you write? Do you have a specific place and time? How often do you write? Are you easily distracted or do you need things around you to bounce your eyes off to inspire you? (suggested by Joy Bailey)





I Will Write Words Everywhere

(With apologies to Doctor Suess)

I will write words in my head
When I walk and in my bed
I will write words with my brain
In the sunshine and the rain.

I will write with pen and ink
But not when at the kitchen sink.
I will not write when I drive
For that’s a way to be un-alive.
 
If I want my words to be read
I will sit and think in my head
In a chair with my glasses on
Maybe in the early dawn.
And type and type with keys a-clacking
All the while my brain a-wracking.
 
I will write words here or there
I will write them on my chair
I will write them up or down
In my jeans or a dressing gown.

By a window is always best
To gaze outdoors for my eyes to rest.
On the keyboard my fingers fly
Like birds soaring in the sky.
A candle helps to set the mood
Along with flowers and perhaps some food.
 
I will write words here and there
I will write words everywhere
I like to write, now this is true
But where, oh where, do you?




Lorrie Orr writes from Vancouver Island where there is much scope for the imagination, as Anne Shirley once said. She's composed great works of literature in her head, but alas, the words have not made it to print. However, she has just published her first book, a memoir, soon to be released.

Read more of her breathless prose here:

 




April 28, 2026

Observing my Husband's Love for God's Creation by Sandra Rafuse



 

We were on our way to a winter holiday weekend in Winnipeg. It was a beautiful day. Bright sunshine bounced off the snow and the air was cold and crisp. We drove past fields littered with leftover sunflower stalks from the previous fall's harvest. Unexpectedly my husband, Bob, lifted his hand up to the front window and pointed outward. "Look at that snowy owl," he said. "It's a female." I did what any person in their right mind probably have done upon hearing that remark. I quickly bent forward and simultaneously lifted my arms up around my head to protect my face. Who wouldn't? At that time in my life, the only time I would see an owl through the front window of a moving car was if it was hitting the windshield! This pretty much sums up how much attention I gave to noticing wildlife or bird life of any kind in those days. But my husband, Bob, paid attention all the time. That owl was at least a mile down the road, sitting on the top bar of a telephone pole and he saw it right away. That didn't help me any as I had no idea where to even start looking to find it. It wasn't until we were driving past the pole it was sitting on that I recognized it, in the last place I'd expect to see an owl anyway.

When God created the heavens and the earth, He must have had Bob foremost in His mind. He must have known how Bob would love all of His creation, from the trees, the plants, the rivers and lakes, to the moon, the stars, the animals and the birds. I'm realizing that observing how my husband embraces God's creation opens my eyes and my mind to enjoy it more than I ever have before.

So for me, right now, watching and listening to Bob is what has been filling my creative container.

The Number Two Highway comes toward Rockglen from the north and curves into town to head east. It turns south on Columbus Drive and as soon as it does, you can see the hills at the end of the highway heading past the local gas station. Almost every time we drive down this street (and it's often), Bob says, "Aren't the hills beautiful?" or "Isn't that a wonderful sight?" There are many hills all around the land down here and he is familiar with many of them. Several years ago Bob planted a few spruce trees and several yucca  plants on the sides of a couple of the hills.  The yucca plants lived all this time and only died off about four years ago. Four of the trees have survived and one looks very good. I've been thinking of buying a small metal plaque that says "Bob's Tree" and attaching it to its trunk.

I have come a long way in learning to identify the wildlife and birds my husband points out to me every time we are travelling in a vehicle together. It took years for me to be able to see them. To really see  them. . .to locate them within seconds of his mentioning them.  "See the deer?" he asks, and I do. I see two of them standing on the highway, looking straight at us. So I quickly look to the left and to the right sides of the road because I know there are probably other deer nearby that might step up onto the highway in front of us at any moment and they have to be watched out for, too. "See the coyote?" he says, and I do. My eyes catch him racing away at high speed, putting distance between us, seeking safety in the fields. "See the sharptails (sharp-tailed grouse) buried in the snow?" he questions, and I do. I spot the tops of their dark backs pushing up out of the snow cover as they huddle near each other for warmth. It pleases me that I have learned to spot the wildlife and birds Bob loves so much

The most exhilarating sighting of a bird I have ever seen of my own happenstance happened one summer afternoon at a lake in southern British Columbia. I was ambling along the beach, paying no particular attention to anyone or anything. I glanced up and saw, to my astonishment, an osprey hovering over a spot above the water that had his full attention. His feet were extended out in front of him, and his sharp, curved talons were spread out. I stared with wide open eyes. He was several feet above the heads of a few children playing in the water and not far from some adults on the beach. Without warning, he plunged into the water and disappeared from sight. Several jaw-dropping seconds later, the tops of his wings broke through the surface. Then the rest of each wing surged up and out, and with powerful strokes of his long, narrow wings, he rose up out of the water and started flying away from the area. I almost didn't notice the large fish he held tightly in his talons as he rose higher and higher until he drifted out of sight. And other than myself, no one, not one person, saw what had unfolded so close to them. I saw him when no one else did.


Photo at top: Osprey by Dennis Derringer on Unsplash



Sandra Rafuse lives in the small town of Rockglen, Saskatchewan, with her husband, Bob, a Gordon Setter named Sadie, and a Peregrine falcon named Pete. She is a retired teacher, an amateur writer, and is thoroughly enjoying being a member of InScribe Christian Writers' Fellowship.








April 24, 2026

Writing Naked by Brenda J Wood

 


I am writing naked right now. Oh, not that kind of naked!

What on earth are you thinking! No, not that kind of naked where I sit in front of the computer in my ancient, wrinkly body suit. No! NOT! The naked you mean is someone not covered with clothing or other protective layers. Does fat count? No.

The naked I mean is described as defenseless, unadorned, undressed, stripped and exposed, not adorned by artificial means, not covered with its usual covering. No concealing cover or even unarmed.

And at 5:00 a.m. this morning, coffee in cup and pen in hand, I write my naked truth for all the world to see. My failures, pretense and shame; my attitudes, pain and history; my experiences, self-destruction and memories.

Without this nakedness, my writing can only be described as boring. Without life experiences, we are nothing. We have nothing to share.

Think of a newborn babe who could tell you nothing at all about its experience on earth. But we? We gather stories every single day. Excuse me. Enough of that, it’s time for me to face the world and put on some clothes. It is awfully chilly to be exposed like this.

(Top Photo) By Moe Magners from Pexels.com

Brenda J Wood has authored more than fifty books. She is a seasoned motivational speaker, who declares the Word of God with wisdom, humour, and common sense.







April 22, 2026

What's In My Bucket? by Mary Folkerts

 



When asked how I fill my creative container, I think of my blue gardening bucket that I lug around my yard each summer from flowerbed to shrub border. In it is everything I think I might need to create a beautiful array of dahlias, snapdragons, cosmos, and rudbeckia.

Here’s the problem with my bucket. It has become a catch-all, with items lost on the bottom that never see the light of day. For that reason, I bought myself a new container this year, one that is shallow and will only carry the necessities.

I wrote a light-hearted poem about my blue bucket and its contents.

You might call us a Mötley Crüe
tossed in her gardening
bucket of blue.
Two left gloves
with holes in the thumb,
a spool of brown string,
pruners and some
odds and ends
she’s forgotten about,
a rusty old hammer,
a trowel,
and no doubt
torn, empty seed packets
strewn throughout—
and I.

It’s a bit of a game we like
to play—
who she will reach for first
in the day.
She, being the gardener
who makes things
grow,
trowel pipes up loud,
“It’s obvious you know.”
I help her plant, to dig up
the ground,
I’ll be the one
she’ll need around.
We all hold our breath
as she bends down low,
she makes her selection
And I'll have you know–
It’s not the first time
that trowel’s been
defeated,
for I am her favorite,
and have not been unseated.
She holds my shaft deftly
as she flicks off dried dirt,
she spits on my blade
and shines on her shirt.
She plunges me deep down,
to dig up the weed,
then I make furrows
for planting the seed.

With my long reach
I help scratch her back,
I prune off the dead stuff
and open the sacks,
of soils and mulches,
make holes for new flowers–
trowel can’t hold a candle
to all of my powers.

See, a gardener does more
than just plant the seed.
She cuts back and digs out
removing the weed.
That’s why she selects me
above all the rest,
I don’t like to brag
but I may be the best.

So at night when the waning
light sends her in,
she nestles me back
in the bucket with them.
And tomorrow we’ll do this
all over again.
I’ll let trowel think
that maybe she’ll win.
But what can I say
since I came into her life,
I’ve become her
favorite— her Hori knife!

I wonder if sometimes, that’s how we think of our writing. We can overstuff our containers with all the tools we think we’ll need for successful writing, but never use half of them. Maybe we just need a few favorite tools to help us stay motivated and avoid getting overwhelmed by everything out there.

Some tools I depend on for writing are–
- Grammarly Pro for sentence structure, spelling, and punctuation.
- I write a lot of quick notes as ideas come to me in my phone's notes app. I save them for future reference.
- I do most of my writing in Google Docs, where it is easy to find back.
- I’ve been writing my debut poetry book with Google Docs, using tabs to create chapters.
- Que Cards are wonderful to put ideas on, and then you can arrange them into a proper sequence.
For writing inspiration, the online community has been my lifeline. Without it, I don’t think I would have ever been able to share so much of my writing. What first really inspired my writing was becoming a member of Compel Pro Writers (with Proverbs 31 Ministries). Since then, I have also become a member of InScribe and The Way Back To Ourselves. These organizations (I’m sure there are many more) can all be found online. They are a place to practice your craft, but also a place for mutual encouragement along the way!

And always, God’s word inspires. This is where it begins and ends, for He has given the desire and ability to put thoughts into words, and He is the One who continues to light the fire within.





Mary Folkerts is mom to four kids and wife to a farmer, living on the southern prairies of Alberta, where the skies are large and the sunsets stunning. She is a member of Proverbs 31 Ministries' COMPEL Writers Training, involved in church ministries and music. Mary’s blog aims to encourage and inspire women and advocate for those with Down Syndrome, as their youngest child introduced them to this extraordinary new world. For more inspiration, check out Joy in the Small Things https://maryfolkerts.com/ or connect on Instagram
https://www.instagram.com/maryfolkerts/

April 20, 2026

Hand Me That Wrench by Sharon Heagy




The 'farmer five.' I may have mentioned this phenomenon before. It is the time frame required when the farmer needs a hand. "Can you come and help me?" he says, "It will only take five minutes." Please understand that a 'farmer five' is very rarely or dare I say ever, five minutes long. Shut off the stove, turn off the coffee, grab the kids, pack a lunch. You may, by some miracle, be gone for five minutes but the reality is that you will probably be gone all morning, all afternoon, or all day. Could be sunrise to sunset, there is no real way of knowing.

If the farmer requires help with livestock, that requires one skill set, but if he needs help with machinery, it's important to know what tools may be required and how to identify them. It took this city girl awhile to grasp a basic understanding of the multitude of tools that are out there. Take wrenches for example. There are Open End wrenches, Box-End Wrenches, Crescent Wrenches, Torque Wrenches, Pipe Wrenches, Oil Filter Wrenches, Ratcheting Wrenches, and Allen Wrenches, which do not look like wrenches at all. And that's only a few! It's of utmost importance to know which one is required when the farmer says, "Hand me that wrench."

There are hammers - claw hammers, sledgehammers, ball-peen hammers, welding hammers. Screwdrivers - flat head, Phillips, Robertson, and Torx head with various sizes for all. There are over 15 types of pliers and over 18 types of saws. Nuts, bolts, sockets and ratchets, oh my! Some use hand power, others use electricity and still others are powered by air. Air!

The bolt size in relation to wrench size confused this 'nut' the most. "Bring me a 3/8 bolt and a 9/16 wrench." This sentence caused me to pause. Why would a 3/8 bolt need a 9/16 wrench? Shouldn't a 3/8 bolt need a 3/8 wrench? Not wanting to ask questions during a stressful farm fix, I kept my questions to myself. Took me a lot longer than necessary to figure out that a bolt and the head of the bolt are actually different sizes and it took me a very long time to commit to memory which size of wrench fit which bolt head or nut. I still struggle. Apparently, it is necessary to purchase an abundance of 9/16 wrenches. They were one of the most common sizes we used and often got lost in the dirt when fixing in the field. If they ever germinate our fields will be full of them and we will be able to recoup the loss.

Writing has a fantastic and expansive set of tools too. First there are the instruments; computers, typewriters, printers, notebooks, journals, page markers, labels and paper in a variety of quality and colour. There are multiple computer programs that boggle the minds of we who are less than tech savvy. Stationary stores are bulging with a plethora of different pens, pencils, markers, and highlighters. I LOVE stationary stores. I ooh and aah down the aisles and inhale the smell of fresh paper and swirl around in comfy unaffordable office chairs.

Our tools are put to good use when we fill our chosen brand of blank pages with words. Verbs, adverbs, adjectives, nouns, prepositions, conjunctions, determiners and interjections combine to make sentences and paragraph after paragraph. We can dangle our participles with the best of them. And don't get me started on punctuation! Now you've done it! Exclamation marks, periods, question marks, colons, semicolons, apostrophes, hyphens, dashes are a light offering of all that is available.

Next come genres, and sub genres. Fiction has romance, fantasy, mystery sci-fi and history in forms of novel, novella or short story. Poetry writers are not just writers of rhyme. There are writers of haikus, sonnets, odes, ballads and elegy. Non-fiction contains such entertainments as memoir, travelogues, devotionals, essays and journals. To write all the categories would take up this entire blog post.

Once you've written something worth reading, the next step is publishing; traditional, self-publishing, hybrid publishing, digital publishing, print on demand. What an abundance of things to learn. It can be incredibly overwhelming. It's all high tech now with no SASE. Now I only get bills and the occasional card in the mail instead of standard rejection letters. The world of publishing continues to change rapidly. Good thing there are wise people who keep up with it all. They are an invaluable asset to a writer's journey.

All of this information is causing me a little anxiety. How about you? Maybe you are experienced and know not to panic. (Sharon, don't panic.)

The writer's energy is fuelled by endless cups of tea or coffee and many a tank of water. It's important to stay both hydrated and awake but not shaky. Be sure to eat, take breaks and move around. Though our tools are powered by the brain and hands and even our voice, there is something much more important with which we need to engage. It's air.

Stop. Take a breath and let it out. Close your eyes. Pray. This is where the power of the writer begins. We need to allow the breath of the Holy Spirit to wrap around the synapses of our brains, and run down our nervous system to our hands to write or type. This Way is the beginning, middle and ending. Him. As the paraphrase of Proverbs 4:12 (NKJV) says "As thou goest, step by step, I will open up the way before thee." There is no need to grasp it all. No need to know all the steps. Just write. Pray, breathe and write and He will let us know what we need to know when we need to know it. Enjoy the process and don't get discouraged. Keep writing and may you be blessed each and every time you come to the blank page, or the partially finished book, or to the end of an article. Let Him be your air, your breath, your source of power and write.

 

Sharon Heagy writes from the wonderful town of Rockglen, Saskatchewan where she lives with her husband, a big dog and furry cats. She writes to bring hope and humour to a world that needs both. She can be reached at sharonheagy@gmail.com 


Thanks for taking the time to visit today. God bless.