It’s no secret: we’ve raised a family of missionaries. Over the years, all five of our children—plus Tom and me—have taken multiple mission trips. In 2014 alone, five of us have served in East Asia (Karissa, five months); Slovenia (Andrew, one week); New York City (Tom, five days); Nicaragua (Melanie, five weeks); Panama (Karissa, five weeks); and Costa Rica (Tom and Marti, ten days). Because Tom and I just returned from Costa Rica on July 20 and our girls also returned from Central America on July 25, there’s a whole lot of readjusting going on at the Pieper home. I present this list as both a humorous and serious look at the aftermath of short-term missions service. And no, I won’t identify who is exhibiting which sign. You know you’ve just returned from a short-term mission trip when. . . 10. The house fills with the smell of unwashed (or less-than-well-washed) socks and sweaty T-shirts. 9. That salad/milkshake/hamburger/Starbucks/Chipotle/Chick-fil-A/other Western food you missed most tastes really good. 8. You begin every other sentence with, “One time in (insert name of international city or village).” 7. You go to your neighborhood grocery store and all you can think about are the children you met who lived on rice and beans—if their parents could afford them.                                                                                                                                                                                                             6.  You open one of your 27 Bibles and remember the people who were so eager to receive their first one. 5. You can’t forget the looks on the faces of those who received Christ. Or the tears on yours for those who didn’t. 4. You missed your family while you were gone, but now that you’re home, you miss your fellow missionaries more. 3. You realize that the same God who works in power overseas cares just as much for the people at home. 2. You can’t listen to comments about how wonderful you are for going to the mission field because you’ve met the real heroes who serve there every day. 1. You’re not sure you should unpack your suitcase. After all, you know God will call you to go again soon....

The maxim “opposites attract” is almost too obvious in the almost-thirty-one-year marriage between my husband and me. He’s loud and boisterous. I’m quiet and (so they tell me) gentle. He loves action movies. I prefer old-fashioned musicals and romances. A military brat, he tells people he’s from “everywhere,” but none of his family’s many homes were above the Mason-Dixon line.  Until I moved to Texas during our engagement, I had never lived anywhere but southwestern or central Ohio. He loves coffee. I never touch the stuff. I love to garden. He stays as far away from anything related to flowers and plants as he can. But despite our many differences, we believe we have the most important things in common: a love for God. A commitment to relationships. A passion for missions and ministry. And of course, the five incredible young adult (our youngest two begin college this fall) children with whom God entrusted us. We also share a love for the arts. Tom is wired for music in the same way I am for words. Our children know that when we watch a movie, we never leave/turn it off until their dad sees all the music credits.  Most of the time, he and I understand and respect our individual needs to study, practice, and express our artistic passions. So when he told me the day before we left on our mission trip that he didn’t plan to bring his trumpet along, I was more than concerned. “You’re kidding. Why not?” I knew he had expressed some frustration with his practice since returning from a music mission trip to New York a few weeks earlier. What I didn’t know was that his practices had gone so poorly and his lip was so unresponsive that he thought he might have to give up playing forever. My former TRUTH member, nearly 50 years of trumpet-playing, professional musician husband not play his horn anymore? Unthinkable. “I just don’t think I’ll be able to do anything.” We talked a little more as I ever-so-gently reminded him that God had used his music on every international trip he’s taken. I couldn’t  imagine him leaving his horn behind, but I also knew the decision belonged to him. I prayed. In a few more minutes, I heard him practicing.  I kept on praying. And the next day, Tom’s trumpet went with us to training. Soon, I asked our prayer team (totaling more than 100) to pray. Somehow, my still-a-music-man made time to practice even on our busiest days. Writers write. Musicians practice. And Tom is the consummate musician. During our time here, he has played for two of our FUAGNEM (Fired Up And Going Nuts Every Minute) worship services. He’s interacted with several other musicians. And all...

Publication deadlines and a busy travel/teaching schedule have kept me off the blog grid for several weeks, but I’m excited to write you tonight from San Jose, Costa Rica and the Never the Same missions trip. I’m traveling with this group for the fifth year as the writer for Sisterhood Magazine, which means I have the privilege of writing the story of the trip. I take great delight in encouraging the students to watch for the story God is writing through them, then come and share it with me. Because I do need to save some special stories for the magazine, this blog will contain more personal than student stories. And as I have  learned on previous mission trips, the best stories come when I not only listen but allow God to make me a part of them. Today, God gave both my husband and me that privilege. Our trip coordinator, Steve Goley, suggested I travel with Tom’s team today because our traveling medical clinic was scheduled to work alongside them. We began our first official ministry day about twenty minutes from our hotel in a poor area of the city. Traveling that twenty minutes took about twice that long because of stop-and-go traffic. Through the windows of our bus, we watched the landscape change from more affluent homes and businesses to narrow streets, broken pavement, and concrete block homes with corrugated tin roofs. The team performed two dramas today at two different sites in this neighborhood. At the first, the narrow street was barely adequate for the movement needed. At the second, the noise of nearby construction work threatened to drown out the narration and testimonies. But none of these concerns or even the rain that fell steadily during the second drama prevented God from moving. After each performance, Tom had the privilege of sharing the good news of Christ with the crowd, and several each time indicated they had chosen to follow Him. When the students walked out to speak with the people, I went out to collect stories. And at least a few times, Tom and I had the privilege of ministering together. He and I spoke with (among others): ? Ana, a woman in a wheelchair who told us she was ninety-four years old. Already a follower of Christ, she said God had led her to the drama site and that her faith sustained her. She asked prayer for her health. We were blessed to share a Bible with her, one of the 1,000 the teams bought and send ahead to Costa Rica. She beamed as she clutched it to her chest. ? Raphael, an amputee who was also in a wheelchair and showed us the scars from...

This week marked the anniversary of my father’s death on June 10, 2012. I spent that day working and also thinking of the many ways he influenced my life and the person I have become. But I can’t think about my dad without also thinking of my mom and her many years of caregiving. Dad endured a two-plus year battle with oral cancer (and no, he never smoked or used tobacco) that metastasized. Mom transported him to countless medical appointments, waited for him during surgery, drove him five days a week for two different sets of radiation treatments, and managed the special dietary needs that came with the associated swallowing and other problems that developed. The accompanying picture was taken near the end of this difficult season. But Dad was also a diabetic for more than forty years. He suffered multiple toe amputations and other foot surgeries as well as dealing with neuropathy, glaucoma, and other diabetes-related issues. I know he would not have survived as long as he did without Mom’s patient weighing of portions, balancing of carbohydrates, dressing of wounds, and constant adjustments as his needs changed over time. To be honest, it took a while for me to think of her as a caregiver. To our family, and to Mom herself, she was simply doing what she did: loving my dad and taking care of his needs. And that’s what I see so many caregivers doing today. If you’re in that category, or you know someone who is, perhaps you’ll join in this prayer: Lord, Today I lift up those giving care to a loved one. I know they are on a journey that may seem without end—or without an end that provides relief. You are not only the great Physician but the One who knows, the One who sees. I praise You for Your choosing and calling of each one who cares for someone they love. I thank You for equipping them for this wonderful, terrible task. Some of them are taking this journey willingly but sad that it is needed. Others never wanted to begin traveling but felt they had no choice. Some would love to find another road. Some are clinging to both the journey and the one for whom they provide care. Father God, You see their needs. You know their hurts and joys. Would You reach down today to touch those who care for loved ones? Would You give them a smile when circumstances bring tears? Would You add extra strength to all they extend? Would You rise up within them to give just the right word, just the right touch, just the right encouragement at just the right time? Our...

I’m in the midst of catching up from conference teaching and meeting a deadline, so today’s post will be short. I just want to take time to announce the TWO winners of recent contests right here on Read. Write. Pray. The first, who wins a copy of my book with Dr. Walker Moore, Escape the Lie plus a bonus copy of Rite of Passage Parenting, is Karon Peterson. Congratulations to Karon! I think these will make great housewarming gifts for your new home. The second, who wins my review copy of All My Belongings by Cynthia Ruchti, is Erika. I know you’ll love this story, Erika! If you can both email me your mailing addresses through the link above, I’ll get the books out to you as soon as I can. Thank you for your comments. And for those of you who didn’t win, I’m sure I’ll offer another contest soon....