Dear Friends, One of the things that’s kept me busy over the past few months has been planning what would hoped would be a wonderful SURPRISE sixtieth birthday party for my husband, Tom. As a part of the party, we asked friends and family to submit stories and memories about him to a special website my son-in-love created. We shared these stories, along with lots of pictures, as a slide presentation at the party and will also turn them into a scrapbook for him. And of course, I had submit something, too. So indulge me in, once again, sharing some up-close-and-personal thoughts. And continued Happy Birthday to my husband–whose real birthday isn’t until March 23. For His glory, Marti “I bet you just laugh all the time.” This line has become a byword between my husband and me because people tell me that so often. After all, when they meet someone as warm, outgoing, and funny as he is, they assume we must have lots of fun at our house. And we do. But, like most families, we’ve also had our share of hard times. The people who tell me I must laugh all the time may not realize that the funny guy they know is also the guy who rocked our son Samuel (born at 21 weeks) to sleep in the arms of Jesus. The guy whose humor has been misinterpreted in sometimes-painful ways. The guy who moved his family across the country for a position that went away. The guy who wondered if he would ever use his creative energies to do more than sell cars. But Tom is also the guy who saw God move heaven and earth to give us our first daughter by adoption and five other children (including the one in heaven) by birth. The guy who started what has become the Pieper missions tradition by taking the first-ever mission team from our New Mexico church to serve at the New Mexico Baptist Children’s Home. The guy who kept turtles in his college dorm room (and in every home/yard where we’ve lived since). The guy who has traveled across the country and around the world to preach and play his horn. The guy who cared for two preschool daughters for two months (while still pastoring and preparing two sermons per week) while I was living 150 miles away. The guy who is walking out a calling to do so much more than direct a choir. The guy who’s made mistakes and suffered consequences. The guy who’s experienced grace and freely extends it to others. The guy who was and is there for our kids and me in so many ways. And the guy who...

Within a few days this week, our house grew noisier, messier, and happier all at once. That’s what happens when two college-age daughters return with all their worldly goods. To be fair, the mess has mostly disappeared (they’ve been in wash/unpack/organize mode). But most of the noise and all of the happiness have remained. I’ve done a lot of thinking in this first year as a pseudo-empty-nester (pseudo only because these two youngest daughters [of the five no-longer-little Piepers] still live here and come home during breaks). And I’ve realized that what I used to take for granted, I now cherish: Buying or making snacks and other food items I know my kids like (the grocery cart looks different when only two of us live here). Letting one of them serve as DJ while I drive (my playlist looks different, too). Having them go to the grocery store or post office (errands take way too much time IMHO). And this one (ohhh, this one): Being able to hug and kiss them whenever I want (I just have to stretch up instead of down to do it). And I wish I had known. I do remember moments when the kids were younger when I would think, “Someday, it won’t be like this,” or even “Hold this moment in your heart.” But I’m not sure I did. I know that often, I was too caught up in the day or the drama or even just pure survival to pay attention to the wonder of these boisterous gifts of grace. To appreciate the extra noise and laughter as signs of real life. To know that the sometimes-hard decisions we made would have long-term positive effects. To find out that who I was as a person and the way I lived my life before my kids mattered much more than whether the house was spotless (never), the dishes done (usually), or the laundry folded (what is this thing you call “fold”?). Other people have said it in all sorts of ways, but if I could go back twenty years or so (My children are 28-18), here are five pieces of advice I’d give myself: Sleep. I know you don’t think so, but you need rest more than you need the dishes put away or the lesson plans tweaked. And the long-term benefits will astound you. Walk.* What you will start in your early forties should be mandatory now. Even just half an hour a day to walk, pray, and think will help more than you know. *Others might substitute run, dance, swim, etc. Focus. Pay more attention to God’s desires for your family and less to what others think. Keep Him as your first,...

Beloved Father and Shepherd of our souls, I come to You today with gratitude in my heart for the gift of family. I know You designed families to present a perfect picture of You and Your work. But so often, God, we are sorrowful people in shattered relationships. Sin and Satan have entered in to fracture our families and leave them in deep need. Today, I pray for healing of family bonds. I ask you to breathe your unity throughout each family. Where hatred reigns, let love prevail. Where anger rises, let peace endure. Where selfishness chokes, let sacrifice come forth. And where bitterness poisons, let the sweet balm of your Spirit whisper truth, light, and life. Lord, you know the deep needs of each family touched by this prayer. Some have relatives who don’t know You. Some have family members who don’t communicate with them anymore. Some have loved ones removed from them by death, illness, or the deceitfulness of sin. I ask for Your grace to allow each one to stand strong amid these trials and for Your mercy to flow in and through every unique situation. Protect us from the evil one, and knit the hearts of our families together even as you knit our own hearts more closely to Yours. In Christ’s holy name I pray, AMEN.  Do you have a more specific family prayer need? Leave a comment below or email me here. I’ll be honored to lift you and yours before...