“Doctor is monitoring, but for once I need prayer that something will die.” My friend’s brief note explained it: an autoimmune disorder had caused her system to attack her thyroid. And in this case, her health would win if the thyroid lost. For once, she needed prayer for something to die. As I prayed for her, I realized what I often do when I’m praying through the needs in my daily #PrayerKeeper posts: this prayer could apply to more than one person and certainly to more than one situation. Maybe it’s a dream that needs to die. Maybe a relationship. An addiction. Or something harder, deeper, and both more personal and more painful. Father, I come to you today asking that something will die. It might be, like my friend’s thyroid, some reluctant physical piece of our lives that needs to cease function. It might be cancerous tumors and cells that, in order to preserve life, must stop growing and melt away. It might be the problem of pain and rejection. Lord, in your might and by your power, bring these things to a firm, forceful end.                                                                                                     Or it might be pride. It might be selfishness. It might be anger and bitterness. It might be any one of thousands of qualities that show our lives are not as linked to You as well as they should be. Cause these things to die, too, God. Burn away the dross and leave the gold. Blow out the chaff and leave the precious wheat. Thank you, Father, for modeling for us that life can come from death and victory comes from defeat. Thank you, Lord, for revealing to us that sometimes things need to die. Help us follow you so closely that we will know which ones and when. And help us die daily ourselves that our lives may be more fully alive in you. In your name, AMEN. Do you know of something that needs to die? Are you in a circumstance that overwhelms or a relationship that crushes? Contact me in a comment here or on other social media or in an email via the link above. I consider it an honor to pray for you. For His glory,...

Did you miss me? Yeah, maybe not so much. I’ve spent the past ten days or so at the beautiful YMCA of the Rockies in Estes Park, Colorado, where I was teaching and serving on staff for the Colorado Christian Writers Conference. More about that in another post! Today, you can find me not in Colorado but over at the Christian Authors Network blog, where I’ve posted a “Tips from the Pros” interview with author Sharon K. Souza. Sharon offers some interesting information about her own writing as well as thoughtful marketing tips for writers....

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,...

Today, I’m delighted to introduce to you one of my dear author friends, Yvonne Ortega. Yvonne lives the title of her most recent book better than almost anyone I know. This dynamo Latina speaks, travels, and ministers in all sorts of ways. Her deep relationship with God along with His faithfulness through her trials has moved her to write her latest book, Moving from Broken to Beautiful. I was blessed to write an endorsement for this book, and here’s what I said: “In one small but powerful package, Moving from Broken to Beautiful combines the wisdom of an older sister, the straight talk of a counselor, and the unconditional love of a longtime best friend. Author, speaker, and licensed professional counselor Yvonne Ortega has the professional credentials and personal experience to speak into readers’ lives with grace, humor, and genuine caring. Take time to process and interact with each of the book’s nine life lessons, and you’ll find yourself leaving destructive patterns of thought and behavior as you move toward a life set free by truth. Excellent read!” But enough of my words. Let’s hear from the author herself. Yvonne, you’re celebrating the release of your new book, Moving from Broken to Beautiful: 9 Life Lessons to Help You Move Forward. What led you to write it? Friends often asked me how I survived and thrived after a domestic violence marriage, divorce, single parenting, breast cancer, several car accidents, and the loss of my only child. I would tell them, and they would say, “You need to write a book about that. It would encourage other people.” After I heard some version of that response dozens of times, I sensed God leading me to write the book. All those trials might cause someone to think the book might be somber or depressing. But I know (both because I’ve read the book and because I know you) it’s not. Do you have any comments about this? Just remember, the subtitle is 9 Life Lessons to Help You Move Forward. The style of writing is positive and hopeful. Friends tell me my sense of humor keeps the message upbeat. I agree! Yvonne, how does your work as a licensed professional counselor influence the book? I became a therapist after the divorce. My training and clinical experience helped me to focus on change for the better rather than being stuck in the past. However, my writing and speaking are not based exclusively on my training and clinical experience but also on the life lessons I learned. Although I’ve also used stories from other people, I have changed names and some identifying details to protect their privacy. And what makes Moving from Broken to Beautiful an interactive...

Dear Friends, Today, I want to invite you to visit me over at the Christian Authors Network, where I’ve posted an interview with author Grace Fox. Those of you interested in writing, speaking, and publishing will find some great tips here from this author/speaker/missionary, who is also my friend. She has lots of interesting titles including her most recent one, pictured here. Check Grace–and her books–out at her own website, www.gracefox.com. For His glory,  ...

“Any writer who can be discouraged, should be.”—Harlan Coben As a little girl, I excelled in school. Even before I was old enough to earn A’s, I received E’s (for “Excellent.”) But there was one area in which I didn’t excel. Look at my second-grade class picture, and you’ll find me on the front row: cat’s-eye glasses, red cheeks, and clasped hands. I donned my first pair of glasses earlier that school year. But the red cheeks and clasped hands? Those appeared a few minutes before the photo shoot, when two of my classmates told me I pressed too hard when I colored. The problem (and subsequent sobs) came not because I thought I was a great artist, but because I wanted to do everything right. Hence the tears and red cheeks. Hence the soggy tissue stuffed between those clasped hands. Hence the consistent report- card comments: “Does not receive criticism well.” “Needs to work on responses to criticism.” My teachers could well have said, “Needs to develop rhino skin.” These ponderous mammals have skin more than ten times as thick as the human epidermis. We’re talking tough! So yes, I needed to develop thicker skin. I needed to understand that not everyone would like what I drew (or wrote). And I needed to gain the strength to persevere no matter what. Today, I believe that my tender heart is a God-given quality, part of what makes me a good writer and intercessor. But if I’m not careful, my sensitivity can also drag me down, leaving me stunned and silent after a negative review or trembling after a harsh conference critique. And, if I’m not careful, it can block my desire to improve my work. At the Colorado Christian Writers Conference, in a special Early Bird workshop on Wednesday, May 13 at 1:00 p.m., I’ll teach about “Rhino Skin: Why We Need It and How to Get It.” I’ll share how I moved from the tearful second-grader to the writer who has no more fear in giving or receiving critiques of her own. And I’ll teach how you can grow that tougher skin, too. Unless you’re a zoologist, you probably don’t care about the thickness of a rhino’s skin. But as a writer, you should care a lot about the thickness of your own. Join me (it’s not too late to register for the conference) and we’ll learn together. P.S. If you missed my tongue-in-cheek poem about Sam-I-Am and the CCWC, check it out...