The True Remnant

🪶 Part 1 — When Questions Come (The Beginning Most People Don’t Talk About) 📖 Part 1 of the series Are We Afraid of Truth? (Go to the blog homepage and search the title 🔍) There was a time when I wasn’t questioning anything. I believed. I trusted. And honestly… I felt good about it. 🌱 It Didn’t Start With Doubt This is important. It didn’t start with doubt. It started with something much quieter. A question. Just a simple thought like: “That doesn’t quite make sense…” Not angry. Not rebellious. Just… honest. 🧭 The First Reaction If you’ve ever had that moment… you know what usually comes next. You try to push it down. You tell yourself: “I just need more faith” “Don’t go there” “Focus on the basics” And for a while… that works. ⚖️ But Questions Don’t Just Disappear They sit there. Quietly. And over time… they grow. Not because you want them to… but because they’re real. You start noticing things like: Teachings that don’t quite line up Things that were said one way… then later ano...

🔊 Why It’s Hard to Hear Christ Today The other morning I woke up at about three o’clock and started connecting a lot of things I’ve been studying for years. Scriptures. Chiasmus. The Doctrine of Christ. Learning to listen for the Savior. All of it seemed to come together in a way that made me smile. But one question kept coming back to me. Why is it so hard for people today to hear Christ? I don’t think it’s because the Savior stopped speaking. I think it’s because the world got   very loud . 📺 The Noise Around Us Think about the world we live in now. We are surrounded by noise every single day. • television • social media • political arguments • religious debates • constant news. Everybody has an opinion. Everybody has a platform. Everybody wants to convince you of something. And somewhere inside all that noise is the quiet voice of Christ. The problem is not that He stopped speaking. The problem is that   we stopped listening . 🌬 The Still Small Voice One thing I’ve notic...

🪶 ARE WE AFRAID OF TRUTH? A 5-Part Journey Back to Christ There are moments in life when something shifts. Not loudly. Not all at once. Just quietly… Questions begin to surface. Patterns start to show. And the heart begins to ask: “Lord… what is true?” This series isn’t written to tear anything down. It’s written to walk… step by step… through a journey many people are quietly experiencing. A journey that doesn’t lead away from Christ… 👉 but deeper into Him. 🌱 PART 1 — When Questions Come 👉 Start here This is where it begins. Not with doubt… but with honest questions. Why do some teachings change? Why do certain things not quite line up? What do we do when something feels off? This post sets the foundation: 👉 You don’t have to be afraid of questions 👉 And you don’t have to leave Christ to ask them ⚖️ PART 2 — When the Pieces Start Fitting Together 👉 Read next As questions are faced honestly… patterns begin to appear. Repeating cycles in history Confidence followed by correction ...

  🎵 Listen while you read Gethsemane https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2GijSuQM5OU 🕊️ Gethsemane Where Love Bore What We Could Not Carry 🌙 The Quietest Victory Some victories come with trumpets. This one came in a garden. Night air. Olive trees. A Savior kneeling. And somehow… the weight of all things. I have often thought— the holiest moments are not always the loudest. Sometimes they are whispered. This song feels like a whisper. And it reaches deep. 🌿 He Entered Our Sorrows There is a line in the Christian heart we spend a lifetime trying to understand: He suffered for us. We say it. But sometimes songs let us feel it. This one does. Not as doctrine only. As tenderness. As cost. As love. Gethsemane says: You are not alone in pain. He entered it. 🪶 The Garden Was About Love Sometimes people picture atonement mostly as payment. But I have come to see something deeper. Participation. Christ entered human anguish— to be with us in it, to redeem it, to carry us through it. That ch...

  🌅 What Happened at 3 A.M. When the Pieces Finally Came Together Sometimes the Lord teaches you in ways you don’t expect. This morning was one of those times. It was about   3:00 a.m. . I woke up wide awake. No alarm, no reason. Just one of those quiet moments when the house is still and the world hasn’t started making noise yet. And that’s when something interesting started happening. Not a vision. Not a voice. Just   connections . Little pieces I’ve been studying for years suddenly started lining up. 🔍 How It Started Over the last year I’ve been writing blogs, recording a few videos, studying scripture, and digging into things like: • the Doctrine of Christ • chiasmus in scripture • the idea of spiritual eyes and ears • how people actually learn to hear the Savior • the difference between religion and walking with Christ. I didn’t realize it at the time, but all those things were   building toward something . At three in the morning this morning, it felt like so...

🪶 Truth Without Hatred Walking the Talking Feather Path in Painful Times 📰 Why I’m Writing This Today two things crossed my path almost at the same time. First, a Native-centered video talking about the destruction and suffering connected to early LDS history. Then shortly afterward, an article appeared in the Deseret News discussing the Bear River Massacre and Native healing efforts. Reading both back-to-back stirred something deep inside me. Not because I hate anyone. But because I could feel the tension between pain… history… institutional narratives… and the search for truth. And it brought back memories from my own childhood growing up near those places. 🎥 Video referenced: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YZiiwUcWMhA 📰 Deseret News article: https://www.deseret.com/environment/2026/05/18/bear-river-massacre-shoshone-tribe-idaho-utah-brad-parry-schnitzer-prize-winner/ 🌄 ## Growing Up Around the Stories As a little boy growing up near Battle Creek and the Bear River area… these ...

  🌅 One Eternal Round There was a season when light filled the room, and in that light nothing else mattered. Not titles. Not position. Not who stood first or who stood last. Only love remained. Years passed, and I found myself sitting in quiet chapels, watching trays move down polished rows, watching men preside, watching structure unfold. And something in me tightened. I began to notice the order of things — who received first, who spoke longest, who carried keys. I asked silent questions. I traced old histories. I remembered broken stories. And beneath it all, a whisper: Where did we go wrong? But then I saw something else. I saw a man kneeling in the dark, not for power, but for guidance. I saw mothers folding laundry with prayers on their lips. I saw fathers worrying if they were doing enough. I saw children singing slightly off-key with full hearts. And something softened. The more I searched for hierarchy, the more hierarchy appeared. The more I searched for Christ, the mor...