MSI Press Blog

  Loss has a way of rearranging the soul. When someone we love is taken from us—especially a child—no belief system, no comforting platitude, no well-meaning words from others can fully meet the depth of that pain. For many mothers, grief cracks open their theology, their identity, and their sense of purpose. Yet it is sometimes in the shadow of that brokenness that something surprising can emerge: not answers, but connection. Not certainty, but presence. Steven Greenebaum’s  An Afternoon’s Dictation: Inclusive Revelation for the Twenty-First Century  was born from his own spiritual crisis. It was not a moment of peace, but of anguish. And it is this raw honesty that makes his work so meaningful to those navigating the long arc of loss—especially mothers who have experienced unimaginable grief. This is not a book that demands belief or offers easy reassurance. Instead,  An Afternoon’s Dictation  offers what many grieving parents hunger for: a sense that the conv...

  Loss has a way of rearranging the soul. When someone we love is taken from us—especially a child—no belief system, no comforting platitude, no well-meaning words from others can fully meet the depth of that pain. For many mothers, grief cracks open their theology, their identity, and their sense of purpose. Yet it is sometimes in the shadow of that brokenness that something surprising can emerge: not answers, but connection. Not certainty, but presence. Steven Greenebaum’s An Afternoon’s Dictation: Inclusive Revelation for the Twenty-First Century was born from his own spiritual crisis. It was not a moment of peace, but of anguish. And it is this raw honesty that makes his work so meaningful to those navigating the long arc of loss—especially mothers who have experienced unimaginable grief. This is not a book that demands belief or offers easy reassurance. Instead, An Afternoon’s Dictation offers what many grieving parents hunger for: a sense that the conversation with the divi...

  Loss has a way of rearranging the soul. When someone we love is taken from us—especially a child—no belief system, no comforting platitude, no well-meaning words from others can fully meet the depth of that pain. For many mothers, grief cracks open their theology, their identity, and their sense of purpose. Yet it is sometimes in the shadow of that brokenness that something surprising can emerge: not answers, but connection. Not certainty, but presence. Steven Greenebaum’s  An Afternoon’s Dictation: Inclusive Revelation for the Twenty-First Century  was born from his own spiritual crisis. It was not a moment of peace, but of anguish. And it is this raw honesty that makes his work so meaningful to those navigating the long arc of loss—especially mothers who have experienced unimaginable grief. This is not a book that demands belief or offers easy reassurance. Instead,  An Afternoon’s Dictation  offers what many grieving parents hunger for: a sense that the conv...