MSI Press Blog

  Jennifer Fulwiler didn’t find God in a moment of emotion or crisis. She found Him through logic — through the steady, rational process of asking questions and following truth wherever it led. Raised in an atheist home, Jennifer approached faith as a skeptic and a thinker. Her conversion began not with a vision, but with a conclusion: that the world made more sense if God existed. She once wrote that this logical foundation gave her confidence — that reason would sustain her even through moments of doubt. And yet, her faith was never abstract. It was lived in the most tangible way possible — amid the joyful chaos of raising six children. Her blog, Conversion Diary , chronicled those early years with humor and honesty. One unforgettable photo showed what she found one morning: a doll, face‑down on a leather chair, lying in a puddle of pee. Real life, unfiltered — and somehow, sacred. Jennifer’s transformation reminds us that faith doesn’t always arrive through thunder or tears. Som...

  C.S. Lewis didn’t stumble into faith; he reasoned his way toward it — and then something deeper happened. He began as a convinced atheist, shaped by war and loss, skeptical of anything unseen. But over time, his intellect led him to a crossroads. He realized that his longing for meaning — what he called Joy — pointed to something beyond himself. Logic opened the door; experience walked him through it. Lewis described his conversion not as a sudden revelation but as a surrender: “I gave in, and admitted that God was God.” That moment wasn’t triumph — it was transformation. He moved from resistance to recognition, from argument to awe. And in that shift, his life’s direction changed — his writing, his friendships, his sense of purpose. Transformation often begins where certainty ends. For Lewis, it wasn’t emotion that led him to God, but the realization that reason itself pointed toward the divine. It’s a reminder that faith can begin not in belief, but in the honest search for tr...

  Elizabeth Mahlou’s Blest Atheist unsettles some readers because it refuses to obey the moral binaries that secular storytelling depends on. She recounts childhood experiences that today would trigger immediate CPS removal: physical abuse, emotional cruelty, and sexual violation ignored by the adults who should have protected her. She describes her own resistance — embarrassing her parents publicly, striking back physically, refusing to be cowed. That fierce ego likely saved her life. And then, later in the memoir, after her conversion, she writes a chapter in which she sees her parents not as monsters but as overwhelmed, under-resourced, emotionally limited people raising eight children in poverty. She does not excuse them. She does not soften the truth. But she sees them through a different lens. She names their fear, their incapacity, their brokenness. In essence, she forgives them — though she never uses the word. For many religious readers — Christian, Jewish, Muslim — thi...