By Debra Torres
I think we’ve all asked the question. It’s the big one, really. The question that, depending on the answer we receive as truth, can change the way we live – and die.

Who is God?

I was intrigued not too long ago when I discovered that globally over one million people a month searched the term, “Who is God?” on Google.

That’s a lot of seekers isn’t it?

It’s becoming so clear to me how crucial our search is. And it’s one that we make alone. No one can pursue God for us. Just like we choose ...

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Who is God? Many people attempt to define God – we’ve all done it most likely. We try to shape the parts of him that we don’t comprehend into something we can understand. We want him fit into the mold that we’re comfortable with. Who is God? It's a question we all must ask. Look to the Bible for your answer. 

By Debra Torres
There’s a little status indicator light on my dishwasher that lets me know when I need some more rinse aid. In bright yellow green, it tells when things are getting a bit “lo.”

The sign bugs me. I don’t usually have any rinse aid, so it often catches my eye when I enter the kitchen. 

It’s a constant reminder that I’m lacking in some way. And who needs that?

The man I bought the dishwasher from told me that the light would go out after a few runs of the washer. But it’s been over a year now, and the glowing message still let’s me know that I’m a bit “lo.”

Sometime back though, I rethought my dilemma and gave my problem a spiritual upgrade. You see ...

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Who is God? The good and the bad, God wants us to share our lives with Him. He is a loving God who waits to be invited into our day. So many times we go along with life, forgetting. Take a moment now and invite the God of the universe into your present situation. You'll be so glad you did.

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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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.

It was a perfect night for baseball, but you wouldn’t have known it by the look on the pitcher’s face.  

The team they were facing was undefeated, and that only added to his list of troubles.

 “These guys know all my pitches,” he told his coach, “I walked too many the last time we played them.”

Knowing all the correct motivational words, his coach sized up the situation and decided to approach it from a different angle – a spiritual one.

And their conversation went something like this:

“You know, whether you do well or poorly out there doesn’t determine your worth or value as a person, right?” he said.

Starting his “pep talk” this way, the coach knew he was taking a risk. He was supposed to stick with the program, after all. He knew that, but he also knew one more thing -- when God opens a door, you’d better walk on through it.

“All that matters,” he told the pitcher ...

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By Debra Torres
I could feel the little silver cross hanging from my neck as I drove my kids up North to see some relatives last week.

I loved my little cross and I had just started wearing it regularly. To me, it represented my faith and touching it there from time to time reminded me of it and brought me comfort.

But as we drove down the road, a speaker came on the Christian radio station that challenged me to be careful of my perspective of my necklace, or any other material representation of God for that matter.

Now I know that sounds kind of weird. It’s just a cross and it means something powerful right? But what I learned from Chip Ingram of the Living on the Edge radio broadcast ministry is that ... 

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By Debra Torres
The concrete sidewalk paths that wound around our housing development were perfect for a mother with small children.

There, my young boys could ride their big wheel, go puddle jumping and walk to a small wooden bridge where we used to feed the ducks and their ducklings in the water below.

All this while staying clear of any vehicles.

There was one path, however that led to a busy side street where cars would whip around a curve unexpectantly. And it was this path that we took once a week in order to trek over to our local library’s story time.

At that time in my life, I usually had one or two in the stroller and a few walking next to me, so it was important to find just the right break in traffic where we could all get across safely.

One thing I would say to my boys as they got in formation behind me was: “Remember to be like the ducks!”

You can probably picture us crossing: Me in front pushing the stroller and two or three boys behind trying to keep a tight line.

Just like a mama duck and her brood.

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Sticking close to God can be a slippery slope if we try to go it alone. He wants you to stick close to Him. And you can do it with His help.

By Debra Torres
A herd of sheep gently grazed on the side of the road as my friend Gustavo’s cycling group rolled to a stop.

Touring Italy, they had just completed a long, mountainous climb and now, after a small descent, they were arriving at the famous breathtaking display of wildflowers the Italians call Fioritura.


It was just a small break for the touring group of experienced cyclists so they 


could take in the vibrant beauty of the region. 

But for Gustavo, it will be one that he will remember all his life.

Gustavo had carefully chosen this cycling tour of Italy for its challenging heights and distance. It was just the thing he wanted to accomplish before hitting the age of 45.

It was the Giro D’ Italia – a 750-mile bike tour in just 15 days where cyclists visited seven regions of Italy and climbed a total of 51,000 feet vertically. 

Gustavo’s lifelong desire to be a professional cyclist had been squelched long ago by an illness. And to him, this trip was a second chance. An opportunity to accomplish a challenging tour among talented athletes that would push him to the limit. 

It was time to rediscover himself. But surprisingly enough, it was a little lamb that taught Gustavo his biggest life lesson on the trip.

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When I first met my husband, I wasn’t attracted to him at all. He was nearly ten years older than me and sported a full beard. 

And when he began pursuing me, I hid – literally.

I was working with our campus newspaper back then and my husband knew just when and where I spent the bulk of my time. So often, he would show up while on some “errand” or another for his job.

 I remember seeing the back of him in the hallway one day and decided to act fast and lose him, knowing that sooner or later he’d show up in my office for a “visit.”

And so I hightailed it down a back corridor and onto a secluded balcony where students and newspaper staff were busy on the computers.

Phew … I would be safe hidden back there until he left the building.

Or, so I thought. ...

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By Debra Torres
Claudia said she didn’t take Joyce’s stuffed animal. 

It wasn’t hers, so what would she have to do with it? 

Again and again she denied that she took it, but when we challenged her to open her square, metal lunchbox, 



I’m sure we probably gasped at what was inside.

Joyce’s toy.

It was 1973 and I was in second grade. And even though I was only 7, I can still see the tormented look on Claudia’s face when her peers caught her in the act.

A lying tongue cuts both ways.

In my devotions this morning, I read that we are responsible to teach our children about lying and why it is wrong. And it also said that we should use God’s Word to do it.

This challenged me to do a little digging, because you know what? As parents and grandparents, I think we often do a disservice to the young ones who are watching us. Can you guess what it is?

We Lie.

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