The Cry of The Trumpet

When the spirit flees in the middle of a lesson at church, we may be tempted to blame a comment shared, but we may have a bigger responsibility ourselves. You see, the spirit cannot be fully present when hard feelings exist between the saints in the room. It may not be what is said, but how you feel about the speaker. Another possibility would be our reaction to an uncomfortable truth that has stung us and which we do not wish to see. In those cases, it is easier to turn from the truth and perhaps blame the person making the statement for offending us and letting anger hide an opportunity for unwelcome growth. In many spiritual traditions, it's taught that the presence of divine peace or inspiration can be hindered not just by what is said, but by the disposition of those listening. This invites a deeper reflection: when someone speaks and discomfort arises, is the disruption caused by the speaker’s words—or by the quiet resistance within us? Even when someone speaks...

Conflicted about calling attention to sinful behavior? You are not alone. Prophetic voices in scripture—Jacob who mourned the need to rebuke a mixed assembly, Nephi who wept in the garden and drew both repentance and rage, Alma who counseled his son with tenderness and firmness—remind us that speaking truth in love is costly and necessary. Silence is rarely neutral; when we withhold necessary correction others may read our quiet as approval or permissiveness. This post offers a pattern, grounded in Alma’s counsel to Helaman and the tone of Doctrine and Covenants 121, for preaching repentance so the vulnerable are protected, the guilty are summoned to change, and the community is steered toward repair. Scriptural Examples - Nathan and David (2 Samuel 12): name the sin plainly so the heart can return. - Jesus (John 8; Matthew 18): protect the vulnerable, expose hypocrisy, and prioritize private restoration before public rebuke. - Paul and Peter (Galatians 2): public corr...

In the earliest chapters of scripture, we meet two brothers—Cain and Abel—whose offerings to God set in motion a tragic unraveling. Abel’s sacrifice is accepted; Cain’s is not. And from that moment of perceived rejection, a spiritual descent begins—not because Cain was doomed, but because he chose resentment over repentance. The Seed of Dissatisfaction Cain’s offering, according to Moses 5:18–21, was not accepted by the Lord. The text doesn’t suggest God was arbitrary or cruel. Rather, Cain’s heart was misaligned. Joseph Smith taught that Abel’s offering was made in faith, symbolizing the Only Begotten’s atoning blood, while Cain’s lacked that sacred intent. Cain wanted approval without obedience. He expected divine favor on his own terms. And when that expectation wasn’t met, his countenance fell. “If thou doest well, thou shalt be accepted.” —Moses 5:23 This was not condemnation—it was invitation. A moment of divine mercy. But Cain, rather than humbling himself, chose com...

Seeing others through Christ’s eyes challenges us to move beyond comparisons and embrace divine compassion. Because of my work as a therapist and my time in theater, I’ve learned to see God’s image in every person. This is, in large part, a gift God has given me.  Many around me wrestle to see what I see. In Matthew 20, Jesus tells the parable of the laborers in the vineyard, where everyone—whether hired at dawn or dusk—receives the same wage.  Again, in Luke 15, the elder son resents his father’s generosity toward the prodigal. Both stories confront our human obsession with fairness and reveal God’s boundless grace. How can we shift from envy to genuine joy when God’s generosity seems unfair?  I sometimes think of it from this perspective:  if I and my friend were waiting for work in the market, both needing to provide for our families, but at dawn, only I am hired, do you not suppose that I might hope for my friend to find work also? ...

The Rule of the Unrighteous: Sanctioned but Unholy Can a morally compromised leader still benefit a nation?   Does personal unrighteousness disqualify someone from doing good in leadership? Not necessarily. While moral integrity is deeply valued in those who lead, its absence does not always negate their capacity to govern wisely or serve the public good. Scripture does not shy away from this tension. Again and again, we see flawed rulers—some unrepentant, some redeemed—whose leadership nonetheless advanced divine purposes or relieved suffering. Their stories do not excuse unrighteousness, but they remind us that providence can work through imperfect vessels. Can a soul unaligned with heaven still bless the land it governs?   Does personal unrighteousness nullify the power to lead with wisdom or mercy?   No. Though righteousness is the crown we hope for in a ruler,   even flawed hands may plant seeds of peace.   Morianton, th...

There is a long history of saints carrying on and pushing forward with a calm determination in the face of opposition from the adversary. I see it in Nephi, who when his bow was broken could have railed at his fate and misfortune. Certainly it was an inconvenience and disappointment at the very least. But he did not turn to anger. Instead, he got to work. He calmly and purposely pushed on, determined not to be deterred or discouraged. He crafted a bow of wood and sought instruction regarding next steps from the Lord. He did not let the adversary win even a small part of his attention for frustration or anger. I know many pioneers crossing the plains did likewise. I admire that calm fortitude and wish more of us could pass by opportunities to become frustrated and instead just get to work, even when it requires rework.  1 Nephi 16

Some truths arrive like sunlight—warm, clarifying, welcome.   Others land like nettles—sharp, unexpected, and hard to hold.   Both are gifts. But in a culture that prizes comfort and performance, we often mistake discomfort for harm. We flinch at correction. We bristle at challenge. We label anything that stings as “unsafe,” and anything that confronts as “unloving.” This is not the way of growth. 🕊️ Truth Is Not Violence Truth, even when firm, is not aggression.   Correction, even when direct, is not cruelty.   Conviction, even when uncomfortable, is not abuse. There is a difference between being wounded and being refined.   Between being attacked and being invited to change. We must learn to tell the difference. 🔥 The Sting Is Sacred If a truth stings, pause.   Ask: Is this pain the result of harm—or the beginning of healing? Sometimes the sting is the Spirit.   Sometimes it’s our pride.   Sometimes it’s...