MSI Press Blog

  Recently, Spiritually Homeless (Girrell), reached #93 in faith and spirituality. #117 in mysticism and spirituality, and #235 in spiritual growth. Book description: Many have walked away from organized religion not out of apathy, but out of honesty. Still the spiritual hunger remains; the longing for community and a place called home persists. Spiritually Homeless offers a deeply compassionate and practical guide for those navigating spiritual life beyond church walls. Whether you left organized religion years ago or never belonged to some sect to begin with, this book will meet you right where you are. Through stories, reflection, and decades of experience in spiritual leadership and psychological insight, Spiritually Homelesss explores how we find belonging, create ritual, face the dark night, and rediscover awe—without needing to return to doctrines that no longer fit. keywords: spiritual hunger; spiritual seekers; leaving organized religion; life beyond church; spiritual...

  When you are preparing for childbirth, you quickly discover that the delivery room can feel crowded with professionals—OB‑GYNs, midwives, nurses, anesthesiologists. And then someone asks, “Are you getting a doula?” If you have never worked with one, the word itself can feel mysterious. But a doula is simply a trained support person whose entire focus is you —your comfort, your confidence, your emotional steadiness, and your sense of being seen and heard during labor. A doula is not a medical provider. She does not replace your doctor or midwife. Instead, she fills the gap that medical staff often cannot fill because they are busy monitoring fetal heart tones, charting, managing medications, and watching for complications. A doula stays with you continuously, offering the kind of steady presence that can make labor feel less frightening and more manageable. What a Doula Can Do 1. Provide continuous emotional support Labor can be long, unpredictable, and overwhelming. A doula s...

  I’m going to say something no one warned me about, and every woman over fifty will nod so hard she risks whiplash: I pee. I stand up. I walk away. And suddenly my bladder says, “Oh wait — I wasn’t finished.” It’s like living with a forgetful roommate who only remembers her chores after you’ve already locked the door and started the car. And let me tell you, this is not ideal when you’re trying to train like a Grandma Ninja. Nothing ruins the drama of a quarter‑mile sprint like having to veer off the track because your bladder has decided to file an urgent complaint. I used to think this was a personal flaw — maybe I wasn’t patient enough, maybe I wasn’t emptying “properly,” maybe I needed to meditate harder. But no. This is simply what happens when estrogen packs its bags and leaves town. Suddenly the tissues that used to be springy and cooperative become… philosophical. The bladder muscle that used to squeeze with purpose now sighs halfway through the job. The pelvic floor, once...