Today’s a special day. It marks the release of two books by some people who have become my dear friends. Dr. Ted and Diane Roberts of Pure Desire Ministries International have an amazing conference ministry along with wise teaching that flows from years of pastoral and counseling experience. And yes, I have a professional interest in these projects, too. Here’s what Ted says in the Acknowledgments: “Marti Pieper took our simple literary efforts and transformed them into something God will use as an instrument to heal thousands of marriages.” I was blessed to assist these authors and, although I can’t review the work, I do want to share the covers and official descriptions with you today. Congratulations, Ted and Diane! For more information, check out their website at www.sexychristians.com or www.puredesire.org. PRODUCT DESCRIPTIONS: Sexy Christians: The Purpose, Power, and Passion of Biblical Intimacy and the Sexy Christians Workbook by Dr. Ted and Diane Roberts (Baker Books, 2010) “Sexy Christians.” The phrase sounds like an oxymoron, but God never intended it to be. Sexual fulfillment is, in fact, God’s idea. Yet many Christians seem to think the more spiritual they are, the less sexual they will be, and the more sexual they are, the less spiritual they will be. Dr. Ted and Diane Roberts want to turn this thinking on its head. Readers will learn why men and women see sex differently, what the greatest aphrodisiac is, and how to avoid the most lethal killer to a great sex life. The authors also explore what men’s and women’s sexual needs are and why they are so different, what sex is all about from God’s perspective, and what the differences are between male and female sexual response cycles. End-of-chapter questions encourage couples to apply the book’s principles at home. Readers and groups can go a step further with the Sexy Christians Workbook. Loaded with additional content, this workbook is designed to challenge couples to explore the rewarding work of...

Did you ever anticipate something so much that you feared it would disappoint you? I wondered if I had done that as I turned the first pages of this book. I knew the author had a distinctive voice. I knew it was a “village” story in the tradition of Miss Read’s Fairacre or Jan Karon’s Mitford novels. I knew it had at least some relationship to prayer. And I knew it had received high praise. All this meant I was more pleased than surprised to find the book among the New Books at our local library. After all, Library Journal named it one of the top five Christian titles of 2009. Half-excited, half-fearful, I snatched it from the shelf. The Prayers of Agnes Sparrow failed to meet my expectations. It surpassed them in ways I’m not sure I can articulate. How could I have anticipated a novel whose heroine, resident of a former funeral home, weighs more than 600 pounds? How could I have expected one small story that combines codependent relationships, lingering childhood wounds, and the obsessive hungers of love and hate in such an intriguing way? I don’t know quite how she did it, but Magnin drew me into the world of Bright’s Pond—and kept me there. The relationship between sisters Griselda and Agnes Sparrow perplexed and enthralled me. The complexity of all her characters, in fact, moved them off the page and into my heart. When trust broke and an idol fell, I mourned. But I also celebrated Magnin’s skill as an artist and skillful teller of truth. The Prayers of Agnes Sparrow mixes the power of prayer and the frailty of human relationships in a readable, believable, humorous, and horrifying way. Magnin’s amazing debut novel caused me to examine what I believe. It also caused me to consider the impact of my own woundedness, seen and unseen. Visit Bright’s Pond soon, but don’t carry your expectations with you. This book, like the town’s celebrated Full Moon Café, carries a full menu of original, delightful treats. Take the time to read—and to savor—each...

bibliophile, n. A lover of books; also, a book collector. God wired me as a word-person. Almost as soon as I could read, I could write, too. If you took a peek at my old school record books, you’d see “authoress” carefully printed to fill in the “What I want to be when I grow up” blank. That’s why I marvel at the direction my career has taken. I’m not exactly an “authoress” (so far, my name only appears on the cover of one of my book projects). Still, I can’t believe my profession allows me to interact with words and shape messages into a publishable form. And the idea that God uses those words to make a difference? Incredible! I tell people that the main reason I can write well is because I can read well. I belong to an online writers’ group, and occasionally members (all professionals in various fields of writing or publishing) post that they “don’t read” or “don’t find time to read.” I can’t imagine that. I’ve been a confirmed bibliophile since my preschool days. Even when I don’t have spare time, I find time to read. My husband should probably write this post because he has many funny memories of my obsession with books. I remember my mother warning me not to read as I came down the stairs. I don’t do that anymore, but I have been known to read while washing dishes; cooking (don’t ask about the library book I had to buy because I accidentally set it down on a hot stovetop); cleaning (so the dusting takes a little longer—no big deal); or taking a shower (I propped the book on the towel rack at one end of the tub). I read while I iron. I read while I bake (I’ve finally learned not to read as I measure ingredients, especially if I’m doubling or tripling a recipe). I read while I dry my hair. I no longer read while I ride in the car (I prefer life without nausea) and certainly not while I drive (I once saw someone do this on I-5 in San Diego. Scary!). I’m still in the hands-on mothering business (my youngest child is thirteen) and am blessed to have raised a family of readers. I’ve watched my son walk out the door of the library, book in hand, oblivious to those around him. I’ve tried to catch my daughter’s attention while she’s lost in a book. In fact, I can’t count the number of times I’ve found one daughter (who shall remain nameless) reading instead of working on her math assignment, reading instead of finishing her history report, reading instead of—well, almost anything. I...