The furniture deliveryman called me right on cue. He told me they were a half-hour away and would be at my house shortly.

I was excited to get the new family room furniture. 

It came as an unexpected gift from my sister-in-law and would replace the worn-out, duct-taped pieces we’d used for years.

But one thing concerned me about the deliverymen that made me anxious about their arrival.

You see, I didn’t have a tip for them. 


My husband had worked in furniture delivery years before I knew him and told me that you always tip for this backbreaking job.

But funds were tight, and I had nothing to give the men.

They came in and brought my couches one by one, being careful not to scuff my walls. And they meticulously set up the pieces. They were punctual, respectful and worked well as a team.

Ugh! And I had no tip. What was I going to do?

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Who is God? God wants everyone to be saved, and He wants us to share His love with others. No one’s exempt at sharing the Good News – no matter how shy or fearful we are. Right before He left this earth, Jesus gave marching orders to all of us saying: “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” Matthew 28:19.

The soft, pitiful cries of the homesick boy reached my ears and resonated with my heart. “I miss my fam-i-ly!” he cried over and over again.

The boy had been staying with us for the weekend and even though his parents were due back the next day, it wasn’t enough. He longed for the completeness and security of what was home to him.

Deep within his small frame was a pain that was real and heart wrenching.

“I miss my fam-i-ly,” he cried again.  Ouch. My heart hurt for him.

And as I lay in bed later thinking about it, a memory came flashing back of a little curly haired girl, homesick at a Girl Scout sleepover.

We were in a large gym and many of that day’s events had come to an end. My friends and I had laid out our sleeping bags in a neat row. 

And, although I was having fun, I remember being washed with a sudden feeling of  ...

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Who is God? God is so much bigger than the here and now. He not only has today in His hands, but He also holds our futures. When we start to get "settled" into our routines, sometimes God reminds us that we're not home yet. For the Christian, this can be a joyful reminder. This life is not "it" and no, we're not home yet.

By Debra Torres
Everything about the teenage girl spelled rebellion to me. I watched her carefully as she stood in line and wondered about her life. 

Her choice of clothing and her choice of company alarmed me, and I quietly began to think about her parents and her teachers. And, after noticing the pattern of cutting marks that ran up and down her arm, I began to think about her heart.

Earlier in my life, I would have looked at the girl and blamed her for her choices. I would have labeled her as “bad” and definitely scratched her off my social list.

But now, as I grow older and maybe a bit deeper in my walk with God, I’m starting to see...

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Who is God? The more I learn about God, the more I discover how much love he has to give. God so badly wants to see us whole and healed. He is a loving Father who wants to heal us completely. When we think of healing, we often think of physical needs. But God wants to go even deeper -- touching, healing and bringing truth to our most painful hurts.

By Debra Torres
Our sunflower house was the highlight of our vegetable garden this year. 

Long ago, I learned how to grow one from a library book, but my first attempt was a flop.

Last spring, my daughter and I decided to try again and carefully mapped out the space. 

We cut holes about 6 inches apart in our black plastic making a perfect square and leaving room for a door.

Then we shared jobs digging holes and planting small handfuls of sunflower seeds into each.

It wasn’t long after that when hardy leaves began to poke up and each hole had 5 or 6 bright, healthy looking seedlings. But like most plants, the sunflowers had another admirers who had a taste for them -- especially my archenemy -- the slug.

One night my daughter and I would enjoy the growth of the sunflowers and the next, I’d go out to the garden to see ...

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“Hey, do you want to hear a God story?” my friend Jamie said before we wrapped up our phone call the other day.

“Sure,” I said, taking a minute to listen.

Jamie went on to tell me that a friend visited her that day who needed some help.

Her friend was looking for some used clothes for her son and asked Jamie if she knew of anyone who might have some to pass down. While she was speaking, Jamie’s phone started beeping, signaling that she was getting a call.

Jamie politely let the call go to voice mail and focused on her friend.  And later after she had left, Jamie checked her message.

Listening, Jamie couldn’t believe what she heard. ...

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Holding up the 100-year-old wooden flail, our Sunday School teacher explained it was a threshing tool similar to the ones used in the days of Ruth.

We had been studying about Ruth in the Bible, and seeing the flail was like stepping back into time for me. 

Amazed, I ran my hand along the tool’s smooth, wooden surface and touched the hardened leather that joined its two pieces together. 

Ruth must have been a pretty strong woman to swing that flail over her head and beat down on the barley she gleaned from Boaz’s field. I had enough trouble a few weeks ago, trying to hold and start our gas-powered weed wacker!

 I can’t imagine beating down on the barley again and again with that flail in an attempt to separate the grain from its husks. I’m sure Ruth’s hungry stomach, and her mother-in-law Naomi’s depended on Ruth’s strength.

And, if your familiar at all with Ruth’s story, you know that she had to use that strength in many other ways as well. You see ...

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The pastor asked several members of his congregation to get up in front of church, spread their arms out wide and form a line facing us. 

Then he called a small girl from her seat and asked if she would place her hand out flat and squeeze it in somewhere near the middle of that human chain.

            
The pastor then explained that the chain formed by the arms represented eternity and the little child’s hand represented our life.

Pointing to the chain on one side of the child’s hand, he said that this end represented the life that went on forever, before we were born, and the chain on the other side of her hand, represented life that goes on forever after we die.

That was an eye-opener me. You mean there was all that before my life and, there’ll be a whole lot after it – here on this earth and forever after?

If you’re anything like me, you may be a bit ...

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The three blue Mason jars waited in a cardboard box in my basement for nearly five years. 

Spiders had their heyday with them, but I wouldn’t touch them. 

Never mind the fact that I had a small collection of antique Mason jars and longed to bring the three up from the basement and display them with my others.

There was something about those jars that made me want to hide them away. Because I knew that if I took them out, I’d be overcome with guilt.

No, I couldn’t get the jars out. Couldn’t enjoy their sturdy, rounded shoulders, their clear sky coloring, their block “PERFECT MASON” lettering. You see, I wasn’t sure if the jars were really mine and every time I thought of them, my conscience was pricked.

The last house we lived in we rented and towering shelves of canning jars new and old were in the garage. I was new to the whole farming thing, but 29 acres and a plowed vegetable garden were pretty strong indications that I start.

And so I did. My first year was an absolute ...


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God is not a mean old ogre waiting to squash us for our mistakes. In fact, he’s more than willing to take on the burdens of our sin, if only we’d give them to him.

The truck was packed with items that would help my son’s new dorm room seem more like home.

And we approached it with a bit of dread.

With only two adults to do the unloading, the task before us was a bit daunting. 

And we knew that we were in for several trips up to his suite.

I thought about it and inwardly sighed. The work, I guessed, was par for this new college mom. We would get it done – however long it took.

“Need some help?” a voice piped up from behind.

“Can I give you a hand?” came another.

I turned to see the smiling faces of several college students descending upon us. They made friendly small talk with my son, grabbed items from the back of our truck and walked with my son inside.

I marveled at the empty vehicle as I stayed behind to lock up.

Wow, that was exactly ...

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My friend Yvonne is not a swimmer. 

She’s tried to learn, but she’s still a bit uncomfortable in the water.

Maybe that’s why I did my best to get her wet the other day when we all ended up down at the river.

            

“Come on in!” I called out to her as she safely watched us from a rock over on the riverbank.

My girls and I cheered her on as she bravely made her way into the waist-deep water. It was easy to see the rocky bottom, so I think Yvonne was okay with it – until we started to see the fish!

While we were looking, somehow two of my children thought it would be a good idea to test out the current as it rippled speedily over some rocks nearby. And I barely noticed them until my youngest cried out ...