MSI Press Blog

    Chris Richards' book,   Nothing So Broken , reached  #182 in Vietnam War biographies, #99 in disability biographies, and #194 in Vietnam War History. Book description:  In the shadow of loss, a path to healing begins. Chris Richards grew up in a small New England mill town, where life was tough and loyalty ran deep. At just 19, his world was shaken when a close friend was left permanently disabled by a devastating accident. At the same time, Chris’s father began to show troubling symptoms linked to his service in the Vietnam War—unseen wounds that would slowly unravel the man he once knew. The weight of watching two people he loved unravel under the strain of trauma and physical decline left deep scars—ones Chris carried silently into adulthood. For years, he buried his grief and fear, never imagining that one day, facing his own crisis, he would turn to their stories for strength. This powerful and moving memoir explores the enduring impact of trauma, ...

  I’ve stopped straightening the pictures on my walls. I used to try. Every few days I’d walk through the house, nudging frames back into alignment, restoring some sense of order. But living at the intersection of three faults means the earth has its own opinions. With nearly a small earthquake every day, the walls shift, the nails tilt, and the pictures lean again — each at its own angle, as if hung by a distracted curator. Eventually I surrendered. My walls are a gallery of slightly crooked memories, always in motion. On Sunday I noticed the same thing at the Mission. The Stations of the Cross — high up, heavy, and reverent — are also hanging at their own quiet angles. Not wildly askew, just… unsettled. A degree here, a tilt there. The kind of thing you only notice if you’ve lived long enough in a place where the ground never fully rests. No one bothers to straighten them. Why would they? The next tremor will undo the effort. The earth will have the last word. And somehow, t...

  If parity is the demographic story, interweaving is the human one. “Interwoven” does not mean blended. It does not mean syncretic. It does not mean that Christianity and Islam will merge into some hybrid faith. What it means is far more ordinary and far more consequential: shared life . By 2050, Christians and Muslims will increasingly inhabit the same neighborhoods, schools, workplaces, and public institutions. Not because of ideology, but because of math. Demographic parity creates a world where neither tradition can retreat into the assumption of dominance. Instead, they meet each other in the places where life actually happens. Interweaving looks like: A Christian nurse and a Muslim doctor working the same night shift. A school board debating holiday calendars that must now accommodate multiple traditions. A city council balancing zoning requests for churches and mosques in the same district. Interfaith coalitions forming around climate resilience, refugee support, or pov...