The Cry of The Trumpet

There are moments in Relief Society when a single question reveals the spiritual weather of the room. Today, the question was this: “Why was the Family Proclamation announced to the women first?” Some sisters felt the weight of it—as if a heavy responsibility had been placed on women alone. Others heard echoes of old frustrations about gender, roles, or perceived imbalance in the Church. The tone carried a familiar undercurrent, one I’ve heard more often in recent years: a quiet resentment toward the Church itself. I felt a sadness settle in my chest—not because the feelings were invalid, but because I recognized them. I have lived through my own seasons of misinterpretation, where cultural narratives spoke louder than eternal ones. And I know how easy it is to confuse the follies of mortals with the doctrines of Christ. But the gospel has never been the source of our wounds.   It is the balm. The Gospel Doesn't Shift—We Do There’s a word that unsettles me whenever it pops up ...

Spiritual growth always involves resistance—not because we’re failing, but because we’re developing strength. President Oaks reminds us that, “ Just as our physical muscles cannot be developed or maintained without straining against the law of gravity, so mortal growth requires us to strain against Satan’s temptations and other mortal opposition .” Opposition isn’t a sign of weakness; it’s the very condition that builds spiritual muscle. Elder de Jager adds a vivid metaphor: our spiritual life is like a balloon rising upward.   - “Just as the balloon can rise higher by throwing ballast overboard, so must a person be willing to rid himself of unnecessary ballast that limits his rise in spirituality.” He names the common “ballast” that weighs us down:   - Impatience — “Get rid of our sandbag of impatience… ‘continue in patience until ye are perfected.’”   - Criticism — “Cease to find fault one with another.”   - Unfriendliness — “Ye are my friends....

Ministering Across the Spectrum: From Substance to Soul Service exists on a continuum—from the purely temporal to the deeply spiritual. All service carries spiritual value, so its worth is never nil. Yet many people feel more comfortable with the temporal end of the spectrum. Some even turn down opportunities for spiritually demanding service. It’s worth exploring what each type of service asks of us. 1. Temporal-Heavy, Low-Spiritual-Demand Service At the simplest level are acts of service that are primarily physical or temporal. These often require little sacrifice: donating money to a fund, dropping off items at a collection site, or contributing to a cause without personal involvement. These acts are still good—they bless lives and give us a quick sense of goodwill (and sometimes a tax write-off).   This type of service becomes more spiritually stretching when we give directly to someone in need or when the amount we give pushes us beyond our comfort zone. In those moments,...

I didn’t join Facebook to build an echo chamber or to shout into the void.   I came here to hear from friends, to exchange ideas, to grow through honest disagreement.   But my recent experiences have led me to a sobering realization: Facebook has become a modern stoning ground. Not in the literal sense, of course — but in the spiritual and social sense that Christ confronted in His own day.   A place where crowds gather not to seek truth, but to seek targets.   Where outrage is a performance.   Where dissent — even gentle, thoughtful dissent — is treated as betrayal. And the more I observe, the more I see ancient patterns repeating themselves in digital form. 🔥 The Crowd Has Always Been Dangerous Scripture is uncomfortably clear about the nature of crowds. Crowds cry “Hosanna!” one day and “Crucify Him!” the next.¹   Crowds drag a woman into the temple courtyard, stones in hand, not to uphold the law but to display...

A league longed for new players—fresh strength, new heart, new hope.   So the scouts brought in a young athlete whose stride was sure and whose desire burned bright.   He had never played this sport, but he carried a spirit that made the whole locker room lift.   The team rejoiced as he entered, the way heaven rejoices over “one sinner that repenteth” (Luke 15:7), and they spoke of his potential the way the Lord speaks of the “worth of souls” (D&C 18:10). In his first game, he ran with courage but not yet with understanding.  He followed the rules he knew, but not the rhythms he had never been taught.   He ran “with zeal, but not according to knowledge” (Romans 10:2).   He cut left when the team curved right.  He stepped out of bounds without knowing the boundary was there.   A veteran muttered, “You don’t belong,” forgetting that disciples are commanded to  “succor the weak, lift up the hands which han...

I lay before you Mormon’s lament, a voice that trembles for a people who once called themselves believers.  It was written for us today because it happens amongst us now. Hear the hush between his words, the small, stubborn grief that will not be quieted. Similarly today, I see the righteous being driven out, step by measured step, as if the world exhales them into exile. Light is no longer welcomed; it is folded away, hidden beneath the hands of those who fear its burn.   They turn from truth and gorge on feeling, carried by tides that move them rather than by choices made with clear eyes. Anger rises where conviction should stand; softness becomes hardness; the Spirit’s pleadings fall like rain on stone. They have lost God, or let Him slip like a thread through their fingers, and the land remembers what it once was—civil, delightsome, bright—and grieves what it has become.   Yet we must speak. While we remain in the flesh we must declare the truth,...

Integrity, Influence, and What a Conversation Revealed Recently, I stepped into a political conversation almost as an experiment. I wanted to see whether calm, respectful, good‑faith dialogue was still possible on difficult topics. At first, it genuinely seemed like it was. Two of us were able to talk through concerns, ask sincere questions, and even find a workable compromise. It felt like a small reminder that “a soft answer turneth away wrath” and that reasoned conversation can still build bridges. But then the dynamic changed. A third person entered the thread already escalated, and the tone shifted instantly. My neutral questions were suddenly interpreted as extreme positions I didn’t hold. Motives were assigned to me that I never expressed. The conversation stopped being about ideas and became about assumptions, accusations, and group loyalty. What struck me most was how quickly the original conversation partner shifted once the audience changed. Positions we had calmly explored ...