New Season

I love Fall and as we approach Hebraic calendar's New YEAR, I enter a new season. I am closing down the retail space, The Gathering Place, in the Courtyard Mall. It has not been a great location for traffic. I am taking "my show on the road" as they say. I will be working with our Church's Children and adult ministries, planning events and prodocts to go. I am also attending Holiday Happening at the Lubbock Civic Center in Mid Nov. But for now, I am having a BIG Clearance on a lot on inventory at the store. Much is 50% off. Come by and xams sshop early. Deb

Moving skit

I dont know if I'm just emotional or what but this skit really flipped my tear switch. Sometimes it feels good to cry. Get out a Kleenex and enjoy

Rock the Desert

We are heading to Odessa, Tx to see Hawk Nelson, Barlow Girl and more at Rock the Desert. Click title for Utube of Barlow Girl. Visit http://www.hawknelson.com/ for our fave. see a video at MTV U websight.

In be “tween” the holding and the letting go

While cleaning out closets, getting ready for a new round of birthday presents, my almost 11 year old daughter decided it was time to pass down her collection of Barbies.
I wasn’t sure that I was ready to be mother to a girl who is “too old” to play Barbies. I tried to talk her out of it. But, with logic beyond her years, she expressed the same sentiment that was ruminating in my own heart.
“I want to be sad about saying good-bye, but I’m not.”

I looked back at the passing of each parenting season with melancholy longing, the memories were sweet. Sure I ooh and gooh over newborns. I love to reminisce over their baby books, but I have always looked forward to the maturing of my kids. What and honor to see the blossoming of my closely guarded prize rose crop. With much pride I parade all my visitors near to admire God's handwork He has so graciously allowed me to be a part of. I cant wait for the late night talks and the excitement of all the new things this tween season holds. Memories are sweet but the anticipation of the delights to come is sweeter still.
“Good-bye, you have always been my favorite princess. Fare thee well and Live long and prosper." She said, as she placed her Belle into the give away box...

Spectacles

Les Grandes Eaux Nocturns is the evening program around the gardens and fountains of the Castle (Chatau) of Versaille. So large it will take more than one visit to see all the grand statues and water features, music is piped in and sometimes even fireworks to enhance your enjoyment. After the tulips of Holland Rich was a little underwhelmed by the French formal gardens but for those who enjoy art, classical music and a nice evening stroll, this seems perfect.

Click on the title and follow any or all of the links for a taste of classic French culture.

Precious Pearls

Like a tiny seed, a child enters our lives, not much more than an annoyance and a promise.
You hold her, feed her and protect or as she grows bigger and stronger every day.
The seed pearl must remain inside it’s protect shell of the oyster in order to continue to grow as it is daily bathed and nurtured.
So must our daughters remain under the authority God has placed over her, inside the safety and protection of her home, daily bathed in the word and nurtured towards wisdom..
Parents of the precious pearls of the future,
we must make sure they are safe and protected
until the day comes that they are ready to emerge,
full grown with their own protected surface to guard them.

ICRS

Hello from International Christian Retailers Show in Atlanta. Maddy and I have met lots of celebrities (Her favs, Hawk Nelson, Casting Crowns)
I had my book signing yesterday, lots of great responses and comments. Who knows what God has for us now.
We went to a Faith Girlz mother/daughter event yesterday. It was fun. I met Nancy Rue, the author of on of the tween series I've been recommending. We had a chat later about the need for parent training and her possibly speaking at an event next summer. Good connections and a love for little girls hearts. She was especially taken by Maddy.
Maddy's favorite book is called "Paddywhack Lane" It is for a book and doll line of Toddlers, very sweet.

The passage of time

My husband, Richard, turned 39 This past week. I found it useless to tell people I was 39 because they would do something like, wink and say "oh, I get it, 39 and holding" and that greatly annoyed me. I'm not ashamed of my age but I am feeling it more. (especially in my joints) but I wonder if the passage of another biblical "Generation" of 20 yrs had made me more contemplative? Since I am 2 months and a year older than my sweet hubby, I always get to experience these passages first. Let's see how he process it. TICK-TOCK

Keys

This is a collection of all the keys that this one house used. I love them. deb

Black and White Night

The "Black and White night" was a hit as the Henderson, and Iserman girls, (and Josephine)put on the Ritz and went out on the town in Paris. We ate at an old private chapel, now 2 stories under ground, that is a traditional French restaurant run by a Cantonese family. We had a great time!

The problem with "Polution"

This is one of my favorite pics from our recent Paris trip. I am now a true believer in "Anti-Pollution" Aren't French signs fun?

Aurevoir, France

We had a spectaculare weekend in the French countryside , L'Oise river valley, in the village of Pierrefonds. Check out the quaint B and B we visited. It is around 150 years old and recently redone. The hosts are Elizabeth and Jacque Dandoy. I'll soon post pics. Check out their websight. See you back in Texas.

Tulips in Holland

Bonjour

Here we go again. Maddy, Wesley and I have been trying to meet Rich and Nathan in Paris for a week. First, the passports were late and yesterday our flights were canceled due to storms in Dallas. Now we are trying one more time. Hopefully by this time tomorrow we will be jetlagged in France. I'll blog pics soon. Blessings deb

Jawbone of an Ass

I told my son that I believe the true lesson of Sampson's story for me is that a lot of times, we make our own trouble. By not controling my own jawbone, I make an ass out of myself. (Then we get ourselves into a lot of trouble. We want to blame "bad guys" like Philistines but really, isn't it just reaping what we sowed and blaming the weeds? But,more on this later.)
"I thought the jawbone represented the Power of God?" my son commented.
"I think in Bible symbolism it does, but I also believe God is big enough to have known that "Ass" would mean multiple things in our culture today. Like in Shrek, when Puss-n-boots says "You still look like an ass to me." He's saying he still looks like a donkey, but also that he thinks his is a metaphorical ass too. It means a person is full of themselves and makes a fool of themselves because of it."
"Oh, you mean like Oscar in A Shark's Tale?" my son asked.
"Exactly, you got it." I'm so impressed at how easily he understands when I explain it in terms he can relate to.

Wesley's Heart

Thanks for all the prayers for Wes's Heart. The Murmur and his spiritual heart. We received some good news. The blood pressure meds he's been on for 2 months is reducing the leak. He will continue on it for a year. He also asked Jesus into his heart on Easter Eve, while taking a break from viewing an movie on the crucifixion (cartoon) "Mommy, I'm so glad that Jesus gave His blood for me." This is a tradition in the Griffin Family, Uncles Howard Adam did the same thing and were baptized Easter Sunday. We'll give him a few more years to go for the wet part. But, all these prayers for his heart are blessing us all in many ways. THANKS SO VERY MUCH, Blessings, deb

Walk to Emmaus

As most of you know, I recently had the honor of attending a Walk to Emmaus retreat. I have know about the events and have sent numeral letters of blessing over the years. But this is the time God chose for me to participate, and we know, God's time is always right. My experience was much like what I felt at church camp growing up or other womens retreats since, but more personally intense. Like the crucible of pledging, or what I have heard about boot camp in the military, these experiences tend to bring up some of our dross(impurities in the the gold) For God is always at work to make precios jewels of us all. I layed it down and stumbled a bit, and my sisters in Christ were there to help me back up again. Please consider where God is calling you this Easter Season to allow Him to do His continuing work in you. I will be happy to sponsor anyone who feels it is there time to meet with the Savior on the road to Emmaus. Yours in Him, De Coloures, deb

Christian Book Club

Announcement:Want to read some great books and chat with the authors? Then check out the American Christian Fiction Writers' Book Club. The ACFW Book Club gives fans of Christian fiction the opportunity to communicate with each other, chat with ACFW authors, and discuss books.Book Club participants are invited to join an e-mail group set up to facilitate announcements and host discussions about the current reading selection. Members will be eligible for monthly free book drawings.
To join, send a blank e-mail to acfwbookclub-subscribe@yahoogroups.com or visit http://groups.yahoo.com/group/acfwbookclub and click "join this group." You will receive a confirmation e-mail after joining. Follow the instructions given in the e-mail to complete your subscription to this e-mail list.
Each month, club members have an opportunity to participate in an on-line chat with an ACFW published author. Chats will be announced in advance so Club members have the opportunity to read the featured book. Book Club chats will be held on the ACFW website in the chat room at 7:00 p.m. CST on the first Monday of the month following the month the book is read.Currently, the club is talking about Rachel Hauck's Lost in NashVegas. And then it's on to Mary Connealy's Petticoat Ranch before tackling sci-fi for some variety. Previous authors have included: Robin Lee Hatcher, Tracey Bateman, Colleen Coble and Liz Curtis Higgs. Check it out.

Her Dormant season

Reaching the waters edge, she looked out upon the frozen surface. In the still frigid air this pristine world seemed lifeless. But she knew it only appeared that way. Under the ice, life carried on. A frozen, almost motionless shell that actually protects the vigor beneath. She knew life was never truly gone. Frozen, preserved, pressed down beneath, it was hidden for a season.
She breathed in the cold air and looked around. Frozen can actually be beautiful. The crystalline encasement of every minute detail. Leaves and branches, every grass blade magnified, like a thousand jewels sparkling beneath her feet. Hanging from every tree, crystal chandeliers. More rare than swavorsky crystals, theses jewels would soon be gone. Precious, delicate and then, a memory.
Looking down again to the lake, there stands a leaf upon the glassy surface, caught in a moment of vertical movement. Take warning, for the leaf scarcely knew this action would be the one preserved.
But what of the life below? Some dormant, some vigorous, no reproduction, but still life survives. Do they curse the cold or accept this season as part of life?
How much light passed through to remind them of a warmer season to come? At places on the pond seems almost translucent. Does the life below gather and jockey for a place to peer out the window? Do they even care what goes on above?
Delores laughs at herself, pondering such foolish things. But this did give her hope. Maybe her cold dormant season would soon be over. Only four more years and she would be old enough to marry without her parents permission.

Grace and Peace to you

Grace
I have known just of few women if my life who have been the true essence of grace to me. Woman who carry and express themselves in such a way that you are drawn to them in a mysterious nonsexual attraction. I have truly desired to exude this grace. I have prayed for it, looked for it, even studied it. Soon turning 40 and still believing it has eluded me, I have all but given up the pursuit. When, out of the blue, I was surprised my a compliment that totally stunned me.
"Well, you just have that kind of grace." was her comment.
"What?" I replied in shock, "I have prayed for grace, but I’ve decide it wasn’t a gift God wanted to give me."
"Well you have it." was her simple reply.
In my word study on Grace, the Old Testament word Strong # 2580 represents the classical Christian concept of the unmerited favor of God but also the concept from an objective point of view of beauty, pleasant and precious. It comes from the root word Strong’s #2306 -"to bend or stoop in kindness to an inferior or a gracious act to someone in need" That is the kind of grace I want to exude, and encourage in my daughter.
Many times in the bible God changed the names of the people He moved in. My character I have been blogging about, Delores (a.k.a. brought forth in pain) Will be changed to Grace.

Christian Writer's Guild

The convention at the Broadmoore in Colorado Springs was great. I learned a lot, met some really nice people, got a break from work and got some article assignments from Christian magazine editors. More to come on that last one as soon as I move forward on this writer's journey. Liz Curtis Higgs, the keynote speaker was very funny, real and inspiring. She is definately the kind of speaker I aspire to be like. Blessings to you all. Here is Jerry B Jenkins, the head of the guild and co-author of The Left Behind books. Click on the title and you can check out the guild. Definately a good route to follow writing dreams.

Curmudgeon

There is an old story my dad used to tell me about a cantankerous old coot who was never pleased. Every morning he woke up complaining. The sky was too bright, the sun too sunny. There was too much to do, not enough time. But mostly the industrious efforts of his jolly wife that seem to inspire the curmudgeon comments. She must have been sincerely convinced that if she truly gave him nothing to complain about, he would eventually praise her. She daily went about her work, with a song on her lips and chewing gum in her mouth.
The day early in their marriage when she felt she had come the closest was a morning when the coffee smelled exceptionally good. The day promised to be a beautiful one. All the hard preparation of planting had been done, the garden was in full bloom from the recent quenching spring rains and there were only a few chores to be done around the house that day. She was hoping that later they may even be able to take a drive.
As her man sat down at the breakfast table, she joyfully place in front of him his favorite breakfast, two eggs- one pouched and one fried. She stood and waited beside him after she poured his coffee, added sugar and stirred in the fresh cream. Would he smile?
He took a drink of the fresh squeezed home grown orange juice she so painstakingly had strained to make sure there were no seeds or large chunks of pulp which he hated. He began to eat his eggs with a grunt, glancing over his shoulder annoyed at her hovering. She scurried back to the stove to replace the coffee and looked on expectantly from a distance. As he mopped up the last of the perfectly cooked over medium egg yokes with the freshly baked biscuits she rose early to bake. There was a pause as she moved slowly closer to hear his report...
“Well, how was it?” She asked
While pushing back from the table, all he could think to say was,
“You poached the wrong damn egg!"

Feeding the pigs

The cold brittle cracking sound below her feet echoed the feeling in her heart. The twice daily treks out to break the ice in the feeding trough is a necessary nuisance on the in cold winter months on a cotton farm in the Panhandle of Texas. There seems to be a lot of those nuisances. Much of a farm wife’s life was filled with them. It’s not the stupid livestock’s fault that the weather is so cold. They don’t seem to mind that much anyway, guess they are used to it. She feels like that often, a nuisance that must be taken care of, basic needs met. She wont stay and pet them, even pigs like to be engaged, but they do need to eat and drink. Starving them would be unconscionable but hurling a few curse words and a whack on the back did help her get out the annoyance their upkeep causes her.
Once outside and accustomed to the cold, she used this alone time as she did much of her time, to slip off into her fantasy world. Her dreams of world travel often involved missionary work with possibly a whisper of lost or neglected love. They would long for and desire her but she would always be drawn away, like a romantic young characters in classic novels. Her devotion to the work of the Lord would always take her away. Morning and night and increasingly more in the day she would slip off into this world. Books were her loyal companions She was the stoic heroine , such as Jane Eyre.. Admired for her intelligent and strong character. Practicing her melancholy sighs and far away stares, wherever she imagined to be, it was far more interesting than being the unloved daughter of a dirt farmer in West Texas.
The cold had long since quit affecting her limbs, for once numb she found it much easier to stay that way, at leaste that is what she has convinced herself. That is the way she has lived her emotional life ever since the night she let herself believe the truth. She is the "not" in her family..."not his favorite daughter, not even close" She is not open, not loving and not affectionate. And definitely not her father’s idea of what a woman should be like. All words she had heard from his own lips. She did not let him know that it hurt her but if her own father felt that way about her, there would be no need to knock on that door for any sort of approval any more.
SLAM!! The door of the barn banged shut, and Sophia spun around to she what had caused it. Just the wind. She went over and bolted it closed. If it was left flapping in the high wind for long, the hinges would break off. Disturbed from her muse she remembers it is time to catch the bus to school. She could resume her fantasies there. But now she must grab her books and run out to the farm to market road that ran in front of their drive way, about 100 yards away.

For those disturbed by my blog

Just want to let anyone concerned know that the last blog "Secrets and Lies" and some others past, and many future writings are fictional musings in preparation for my next literary work, possibly "Historical Fiction" I am meeting with editors next week to test for marketability with various publishers. Sorry if this caused any stress.

Secrets and lies

Secrets and lies, they grow upon each other, even after years, lifetimes and even generations, the curse of incest held all in it’s lair. The wretched truth was something she believed mothers and grand-mothers must had known all along. Accomplices to this unspeakable crime, they were afraid of acknowledging the truth for it would make them part of the sin, the rape of their daughter’s innocense. Brought bluntly to their attention, shocked they would deny and turn away choosing only to protect the thin veil of dignity they used to cover their shame for the lack of bravery they had in their youth to confront their aggressors and put and end to the abusive cycle.

Be sure your sins will find you out. And what about the moments when he was alone? Was it self-righteousness or shame that led him to stare blankly into nothingness and wonder why he lingered here? For 20 years past his desire to depart he hovered between a living and passing on. Was he just reaping what he sowed? He never showed me any signs of regret or repentance. There were not death bed confessions, tears of remorse, just blank stares or steely glares. His wide-eyed quavering gaze had a fearful feel to it, as if he was about to blurt out, “You know my deep secret. You will be the one who brings down my gingerbread house of self righteousness.
Sympathetic visitors were bluntly confronted with the request to help him end his suffering. Their pity and well wishes meant nothing if they would not help him die. It was never about anyone else, not even his hardworking spouse of 60 some odd years. She had labored to please him, enduring countless indignities at his hand and now she has nothing left, not even her mind, only a frozen sardonic expression of shock and defiance.
Back to the secret, it, of course was the sexual abuse I endured at my father, grand-father and even uncles hands. But the lies were more hurtful. The primary one being that women must choose. They cannot embody strength and beauty, feminine grace and wisdom. They must either be desirable or smart, not both. I chose smart, not realizing that before I had a chance to choose beauty chose me.

Parental consent

Here is the form to fill out to become a part of our New Girl's Club.
Just click on the title and it will open a Acrobat reader page, print, fill out, mail.
We will have once a month meeting til summer and then we want to plan a 3-5 day daycamp with lots of fun Victorian activities. Call me at 771-6987 or come by the Gathering Place for more info. Blesssings, deb

Pray for Wesley's Heart

I just wanted to inform all those who have not heard, Wesley was diagnosed with a heart murmur last year. When we saw the pediatric cardiologist, he found 2 murmurs. We have his one year check up last Thur. It seems his condition has progressed. He wants us to put him on high blood pressure meds. We decided to seek a second opinion. We will update you as soon as we figure out, when where and who.

Plugged In Online

Here is the websight I have recogmended to help you decide if a movie is appropriate for your family. Plugged In Online
http://pluggedinonline.com

Why talk about it?

I know I may need to go back to some dark places to find a new way out...

Super Family

A fun dinner time discussion went something like this:

My children decided, after watching "The Incredibles" that we are also a family of Super Heroes.
I even told a lady in the bathroom at the movie that our costumes were Medieval, since we like to go to Renaissance festivals . She only gave me a wary smile and walked away.
Today at the breakfast table we decided on our super identities. My daughter was the instigator, while wearing a sparkle shirt which said "Daddy’s Girl" is now ‘DADDY’S SUPER GIRL’. Her brother, whose quote of the century is,
"Here it comes...(flaaaaaarrrppp!) That felt goood."
Well, we’ll just say that passing gas is his unique talent. As a family we decided a while back that we do not believe in killing, so we have always found ways to turn cops in robbers into to a fun chase that leaves the offenders incapacitated for a time just long enough to call 911. Then we send them to jail, to receive their just reward. Brother’s "gas" is just the thing to accomplish that.
Daddy has the manly ability to belch a whole is things. It was a little harder for everyone to agree on an appropriate persona for Mommy. I first suggested that I be "Super Spender" to which daddy replied, "Yeah." But "Daddy’s Super Girl" aptly asked, "What can you do?"
"I spend a lot of money, of course" I said with great pride
"Thats’s not helpful." she replied wryly
"That’s what Daddy thinks." I said, with my characteristically boisterous and explosive laugh.
The shocked look on peoples faces and the tendency for Daddy’s Super Girl to plug her ears made me decide that this is it. A truly God-given skill I possess, and something that, I’m proud to say has made it on several "Things I like about my mom" lists. I have laugh so unfettered that I have even had to apologize for it. It tends to garner unwanted public attention from adjacent diners,( which my husband HATES.)
"Sonic Laugh!!" I exclaimed, which brought a chorus "Yeahs"