MSI Press Blog

   \ From Morning Prayer: "Rescue me from the med." - Psalm 69 The psalmist’s cry is raw, human, and holy. It is the voice of someone who knows they cannot save themselves. But Scripture also shows that not every muddy place is meant to be escaped immediately . Some are meant to be endured, transformed, or understood. 1. Yes, it is biblical to ask — but biblical does not always mean prescriptive Plenty of things in Scripture happened that we are not meant to imitate. The Psalms give us permission to bring our whole selves to God — fear, frustration, desperation, longing. But they do not promise that every cry will be answered with instant extraction. Sometimes God rescues. Sometimes God strengthens. Sometimes God waits with us. 2. Are there times God should not rescue us yet? Spiritually speaking, yes. There are seasons when: The mud slows us down so we stop running from something we need to face. The mud humbles us , softening the ground of the heart. The mud reveals what ...

  You’re not losing faith — you’re losing the feeling of faith. The light hasn’t gone out; it’s being hidden so you can learn to see differently. Thus, 🌒 1. Prayer feels empty You still show up, but the sweetness is gone. Words fall flat. Silence feels blank. You wonder if you’re doing something wrong — but you’re not. This dryness is the soul’s way of being weaned from emotional reward. 🌒 2. Spiritual practices stop “working” Meditation, music, ritual, even nature — all the things that once lifted you — now seem dull. It’s not that they’ve lost power; it’s that your senses are being purified. You’re learning to love God for God’s sake, not for the experience. 🌒 3. You feel strangely detached You may notice less emotional reaction to sermons, sacred texts, or even suffering. This isn’t indifference; it’s the beginning of interior stillness. The senses are quieting so the spirit can listen. 🌒 4. You can’t go back Old spiritual habits no longer fit. You try to rekindle the old w...

  Today, on the National Day of Prayer, people across the country pause in many different ways — through prayer, meditation, reflection, silence, or service. Though our languages of faith differ, the impulse is the same: to turn toward what is deeper, steadier, and more enduring than the noise of daily life. In an interfaith spirit, today can be a day to: Hold gratitude for the people who sustain us. Seek wisdom for the choices ahead. Offer compassion to those carrying burdens we cannot see. Ask for peace in our homes, communities, and world. Remember hope — not as optimism, but as commitment. Some will pray to God. Some will sit in silence. Some will light a candle, recite a psalm, chant a mantra, or simply breathe with intention. All of these are forms of turning toward the sacred. The National Day of Prayer is not about uniformity — it’s about unity of purpose: a shared desire for healing, justice, and the flourishing of all people. However, you observe today, may it bring ...