Polygamy and False Teachers

“For certain men have crept in unnoticed, who long ago were marked out for this condemnation,
ungodly men, who turn the grace of our God into lewdness and deny the only Lord God and our Lord Jesus Christ.”

— Jude 4

Like many, I’ve been watching the news stories unfold about the fallout from the raid on the FLDS compound in Texas. The heartbreaking separation of mothers and children has stirred grief and confusion. People on all sides have passionate opinions about what should happen next.

But beyond the headlines, there’s a deeper question I find myself asking:
How did it get this far?

How did a group of people—many of them sincere, well-meaning individuals—become so profoundly deceived?

And then I remember…
God already told us this could happen.

“Certain Men Have Crept In…”

The book of Jude is just one chapter long, but it contains a powerful warning.

Jude 4 tells us that certain men have crept in unnoticed.
Not from the outside, but from within—those who profess Christianity but deny Christ by their actions and beliefs.
They twist the grace of God into a license for immorality.
They deny the unique deity and authority of Jesus.

If you’re familiar with the teachings of the FLDS (Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints), these words sound alarmingly familiar.

  • They claim to follow Christ, yet their doctrines elevate human men to would-be gods.

  • They require men to marry multiple women—often very young girls—as a condition for salvation.

  • They promise future godhood, their own planets, and power—ideas rooted in fantasy, not Scripture.

  • They promote a hierarchy where husbands determine the eternal fate of their wives, and their “prophet” decides who is worthy of heaven.

This is not the gospel.
This is not the way of Christ.
This is a tragic distortion of truth—exactly the kind of deception Jude warns us to recognize and resist.

Turning Grace into Lewdness

Jude 4 explicitly names this sin: turning the grace of God into lewdness.

The grace of God is meant to free us from sin—not to excuse it.

Yet here, entire doctrines have been built around granting men sexual access to young women under the guise of religion. It is disturbing. And it is not new.

“Likewise also these dreamers defile the flesh, reject authority, and speak evil of dignitaries.”
— Jude 8

False teachers throughout history have used their imagined visions, dreams, and “revelations” to control others, manipulate Scripture, and satisfy their own desires. The leaders of the FLDS do just that.

And Jude is clear: just as God did not spare the fallen angels, or the people of Sodom and Gomorrah, He will not spare those who twist His truth and defile His name.

What About Us? How Do We Stay Faithful?

It’s easy to point fingers. But the deeper question is this:
How do we make sure we don’t fall into deception ourselves?

Thankfully, Jude doesn’t leave us wondering.

“But you, beloved, building yourselves up on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Spirit,
keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life.”

— Jude 20–21

Here’s what we’re called to do:

  • Build yourselves up on your faith—stay rooted in the truth of Scripture.

  • Pray in the Holy Spirit—stay connected to God in relationship, not just ritual.

  • Keep yourselves in the love of God—cling to the One who will never let you go.

  • Look for His mercy—because He’s coming back, and His judgment will be just.

And when we see others caught in deception?

“On some have compassion, making a distinction;
but others save with fear, pulling them out of the fire, hating even the garment defiled by the flesh.”

— Jude 22–23

We don’t just condemn.
We reach out.
We pray.
We stay anchored in truth and lead with love.

To the Only One Who Can Keep Us

False teaching is real.
Deception is powerful.
And none of us are immune to it.

But the final verses of Jude offer us this promise:

“Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling,
and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy…”

— Jude 24

God is able to keep us.
Even when the world is dark.
Even when others fall away.
Even when deception is disguised as truth.

A Final Thought

It’s heartbreaking to see how deeply people can be led astray—especially in the name of God. But it’s also a wake-up call for us as believers to stay grounded, vigilant, and full of grace.

We are called to:

  • Know the Word

  • Stay in the Spirit

  • Live in the love of Christ

  • And keep pointing others to the true Light of the world

False teachers will rise.
But Jesus reigns.
And He alone is wise.

“To God our Savior,
Who alone is wise,
Be glory and majesty, dominion and power,
Both now and forever. Amen.”

— Jude 25

Transformed by Truth

Renewing the Mind: Letting Go of Lies and Living in Truth
A reflection on spiritual freedom, emotional healing, and the power of Scripture

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind…”
— Romans 12:2

Throughout Scripture, we are urged again and again to be mindful of our thoughts—to set our minds on what is true, noble, pure, and good (Philippians 4:8). To fix our eyes above (Colossians 3:2). To keep our minds stayed on the Lord, where perfect peace is found (Isaiah 26:3). And to allow our minds to be renewed—reshaped, restored, transformed.

Because what we believe—deep down, in the quiet conversations we have with ourselves—shapes everything.

And here’s the hard truth:
One of the greatest sources of emotional and spiritual struggle in our lives is believing lies.

We serve a God who is Truth—who leads us into truth, sets us free by truth, and renews us through truth.

But we also have an enemy.
Satan is called the deceiver. The accuser. The father of lies. And he knows that if he can distort our thinking, he can derail our healing, our peace, and our purpose.

His lies often sound reasonable. Familiar. Sometimes they even sound like our own voice.

Here are a few of the most common lies he whispers—and the truth that defeats them:

Lie #1: “I must be perfect.”

This lie feeds anxiety, self-condemnation, and the endless striving to be “enough.” But the truth is—we are not perfect. And we never will be on this side of eternity.

“Be holy, for I am holy.” (1 Peter 1:16) — yes, we are called to holiness,
but sanctification is a process, not a performance.

We will make mistakes. And God, in His mercy, is faithful to continue the good work He began in us—refining us day by day, not expecting perfection but desiring relationship.

Lie #2: “I must have everyone’s love and approval.”

This lie keeps us chained to people-pleasing and makes others’ opinions heavier than God’s truth.

“If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.” (Galatians 1:10)

God created us for connection, but His love and approval must always matter most.
Only He defines our worth.

Lie #3: “Things have to go my way for me to be happy.”

This one leads us to fixate on our circumstances instead of our Savior.

“I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content.” (Philippians 4:11)
“All things work together for good…” (Romans 8:28)

Happiness based on circumstances is fragile. But joy rooted in God’s love and purpose is enduring—even when nothing is going “our way.”

Lie #4: “Life should be easy.”

We may not say it out loud, but many of us live with this underlying expectation. And when life gets hard, we feel cheated.

“In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

Hardship is part of the fallen world we live in. But we do not face it alone. God’s strength meets us in every struggle.

So how do we renew our minds and replace lies with truth?

1. We start with relationship.

Transformation doesn’t come through sheer willpower—it comes through connection with Christ. He is the Truth that sets us free.

2. We become students of our own thoughts.

Pay attention to your self-talk. Ask yourself:

  • Is this true?

  • Is this Biblical?

  • Is this helpful?

  • Would God speak to me this way?

3. We identify patterns of distorted thinking.

Some common distortions include:

  • All-or-nothing thinking (everything is either a total failure or a total success)

  • Fortune-telling (predicting negative outcomes)

  • Discounting the positive (ignoring what went well)

  • Emotional reasoning (believing something is true because it feels true)

  • Overgeneralizing (broad conclusions from a single event)

  • Personalization (assuming everything is your fault)

  • “Should” and “must” statements (rigid expectations that produce guilt and pressure)

4. We root ourselves in Scripture.

The more we know God’s Word, the more quickly we can spot the lies.

When we notice a lie surfacing, we search for the truth in God’s Word that contradicts it.
We memorize it.
Meditate on it.
Apply it—again and again.

This isn’t a one-time fix. Renewing our minds is a lifelong process—one that requires intention, grace, and a willingness to surrender the narratives we’ve held onto for too long.

But friend, there is freedom on the other side.

When we let God reshape our thoughts, everything begins to change—our emotions, our decisions, our relationships, and our peace.

“Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—His good, pleasing, and perfect will.”
(Romans 12:2)

This is how we learn to walk in freedom.
This is how we live with clear eyes and a quiet heart.

And this is how we are transformed.

God’s answer to stress (Especially for D)

Unpacking the Weight: Finding Peace in a Stress-Filled Life
A reflection on exhaustion, transformation, and the God who carries us through

You know, I’m just beginning to realize the toll the last few years have taken on me.

I didn’t fully see it at the time—the slow buildup of physical, emotional, and spiritual exhaustion. It crept in quietly as I poured myself into my work. First at a juvenile justice facility, then as the primary therapist for an adolescent intensive outpatient rehab. Both good jobs. Both worthwhile. Both heavy.

It’s been a little over two months since stepping into private practice, and for the first time in a long time, I’m starting to feel like myself again.


The Quiet Cost of Carrying Too Much

I think we all hit these seasons—the ones where we run hard, carry more than we realize, and only stop long enough to feel the weight when we finally set it down.

Now that I’ve had a little space to breathe (and time to reflect), I’ve started considering all of this from a Biblical point of view. And, as always, God’s Word speaks directly into it.

James 1:2–4 reminds us to “count it all joy when we face trials of various kinds.”
Not because the trials themselves feel good—but because they produce something good.

These difficulties are not wasted. They refine us. They transform us.
They shape us into the image of Christ.

Romans 8:28–29 echoes this: All things work together for good—not just for comfort, but for conformity—that we might be shaped more and more into Christlikeness. Sometimes that good is patience. Sometimes it’s endurance. Sometimes it’s simply learning to let go.

Just knowing God is in control and working things for good has helped ease some of the stress.
This is how Paul was able to persevere through suffering with peace and joy (2 Corinthians 4:16–18). He didn’t ignore the pain—he anchored himself in God’s promises.


The Rhythms of Jesus

Jesus Himself modeled a life that included intentional rest and time away.

He carved out moments for solitude.
He stepped away from the crowd.
He prayed often—not just to ask, but to align. To be with the Father.

Psalm 16:8–11 reminds us of what happens when we keep our eyes on God: we will not be shaken. His presence becomes our peace. And often, it’s not our situation that changes first—but our hearts.


Guarding Our Thoughts, Choosing Our Focus

Jesus told us not to let our hearts be troubled (John 14:27). But stress has a way of stealing our peace and focusing our thoughts on everything that’s going wrong.

Proverbs 4:23 reminds us to guard our hearts, because everything flows from them.

That means paying attention to our thoughts—bringing them under the authority of Christ (2 Corinthians 10:5). It means recognizing when our thinking spirals into fear, pessimism, or pressure, and gently redirecting our focus.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Psalm 90:12:
“Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”

That verse feels more real to me now than it ever has.
Lately, the phrase “major on the majors and minor on the minors” has been running through my head—sometimes at odd times (and no, for you therapists reading this, I’m not becoming obsessive, I promise!).

But I am becoming more deliberate.

I’m considering how I spend my time.
What I give my energy to.
What matters enough to carry—and what I can finally set down.


Cultivating Gratitude in the Middle of It All

One practice that’s helping me in this process is giving thanks.

1 Thessalonians 5:18 reminds us to “give thanks in all things.”
Not for all things—but in them.

There’s power in pausing to count what’s still good. To name what we’re thankful for even in seasons of stress or uncertainty. Gratitude doesn’t erase the hard things—it shifts our perspective so we can see the whole picture more clearly.


Learning Peace, One Day at a Time

I’m still learning how to live in this world—how to do meaningful work, carry real burdens, and still protect the inner peace God promises.

It’s not easy.
But it’s possible.
And it starts with small, deliberate choices:

  • To rest when needed.

  • To pray often.

  • To replace lies with truth.

  • To be present.

  • To give thanks.

  • To trust the One who holds all things together—even me.


A Final Thought

If you’ve been carrying more than you realized…
If you’re just starting to feel like yourself again…
If you’re trying to find peace in a world that pulls at your soul—
You’re not alone.

God isn’t asking you to be perfect.
He’s inviting you to walk with Him.
To breathe.
To rest.
To trust.

And He promises that in the midst of it all—He will be your peace.

Trusting God

Corrie Ten Boom once stated, “When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.

May we always remember that we can and should trust in our God no matter how dark the tunnel.

 

Fear

When Fear Creeps In: Learning to Anchor My Heart in God’s Peace
A reflection on fear, trust, and the comfort of Scripture

Fear.
Not just anxiety.
Not just stress.
Not just a passing moment of nervousness.
But fear—deep, gripping fear—has, at times, been the overriding emotion in my life.

Fear has shaped my decisions, my silence, my words, and my hesitations.
It has caused me to step into things I shouldn’t have—and to back away from things I was called to.
It’s insidious.
It creeps in slowly, slyly—until I suddenly realize it has overtaken me.

And the truth is, fear takes many forms.

Sometimes it’s the fear of death.
Sometimes it’s the fear of failure.
Sometimes it’s the fear of what others will think or how they’ll respond.
Sometimes it’s the fear of the unknown—and sometimes, it’s the fear of what I know all too well.

But ultimately, it’s not the source of fear that matters most.
It’s what we do with it.

Fear Is a Natural Response—Until It Isn’t

Fear, in its truest form, is a God-given emotion.
It’s the internal alarm system that sounds when danger—real or perceived—is near.
Fear can protect us. It’s a necessary survival mechanism.

But when fear becomes chronic, when it shifts from helpful caution to anxious obsession, when it starts whispering what ifs and worst-case scenarios—it becomes bondage.
And that’s not what God intends for us.

Fear is not meant to be a prison.

So what do we do when fear shows up and refuses to leave quietly?

When I’m Afraid, I Turn to Truth

There are several Scripture passages I return to again and again when fear starts to take over. These verses have anchored me in some of the darkest and most uncertain moments of my life—reminding me that God is present, that He is trustworthy, and that I am never alone.

1. I turn to God.

“Cast all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.” — 1 Peter 5:7

When my husband was battling cancer in 2000, this verse became a lifeline. The little chorus “Cast all your cares upon Him” played on repeat in my heart. It reminded me that the same God who had cared for me before would continue to do so—faithfully, tenderly, completely.

2. I focus on the solution, not the storm.

In Matthew 14, Jesus calls Peter to step out of the boat and walk toward Him on the water. Peter obeys—but then he looks at the wind and becomes afraid. He starts to sink.

“Lord, save me!” he cries. And Jesus immediately reaches out and catches him.

The moment Peter shifted his focus from Jesus to the storm, fear took over. I try to remember that when my mind begins to spiral. The solution is always found by looking to Christ—not the chaos.

3. I stop borrowing trouble.

“Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things.” — Matthew 6:34

Fear loves to live in the future. It thrives on hypotheticals. But God invites me to stay in today. To deal with what’s in front of me and trust Him to handle tomorrow.

4. I fix my thoughts on God.

“You will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.” — Isaiah 26:3

When I notice my thoughts spiraling into fear, I gently bring them back to God. His character. His promises. His presence. Peace doesn’t come from having all the answers—it comes from knowing Who holds the outcome.

5. I pray. Really pray.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God…” — Philippians 4:6–7

There’s something powerful about bringing fear into the light of prayer. It’s not about saying all the right words—it’s about opening my heart and letting God meet me there. Peace follows—not always immediately, not always easily—but it comes.

6. I return to my refuge.

“I will say of the Lord, ‘He is my refuge and my fortress; my God, in Him I will trust.’” — Psalm 91:2

When fear presses in, I remind myself that I have a refuge. I have a hiding place. I have a God who defends, shelters, and strengthens me—no matter what the storm looks like.

Learning to Live Free

I wish I could say that I’ve mastered the art of living without fear. I haven’t.
But I am learning.
I’m learning to notice when fear starts to rise.
I’m learning to turn my heart back toward truth.
I’m learning that even when fear shows up, it doesn’t get to stay in charge.

God never asked me to be fearless.
He just asked me to trust Him more than the fear.

So today, if fear is creeping in—whispering its lies, tightening its grip—remember this:

You are not alone.
You are not powerless.
And you are not without peace.

“The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?”
(Psalm 27:1)

Run with patience

Running With Endurance: The Race Set Before Us
A reflection on Hebrews 12:1–2 and the faith that sustains us

When I first became a Christian, God gave me two verses that have remained my foundation through every season of life. They were among the first I ever memorized, and I still quote them to myself—especially in moments when I feel like I’m growing weary in doing good.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses,
let us lay aside every weight and the sin which so easily entangles us,
and let us run with endurance the race set before us,
fixing our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith…”

— Hebrews 12:1–2

These verses have walked with me through heartache and hope, joy and fatigue, certainty and confusion. And recently, I’ve found myself returning to them again, meditating on what it really means to run the race—and to run it well.

Surrounded by Witnesses

Chapter 11, just before this passage, is often called the “Hall of Faith.” It’s filled with stories of men and women who trusted God through impossible circumstances. That’s the “cloud of witnesses” Hebrews 12 refers to—not just spectators, but fellow runners who have already finished their race. They aren’t distant observers; they are living reminders that it can be done.

They’ve run with endurance.
They’ve kept the faith.
And now they cheer us on.

What Must Be Laid Aside

Running well requires discipline. The writer of Hebrews points out two specific things we need to “lay aside”:

1. Every Weight

The Greek word used here means to strip off—like an athlete removing anything that would slow them down. It’s not necessarily sin—it’s anything that weighs us down or holds us back. Distractions. Unhealthy attachments. Misplaced priorities. Anything that keeps us from running freely.

These weights might be subtle. But over time, they become burdens we were never meant to carry.

2. The Sin That Entangles

Sin clings. It trips us up, distracts us, and pulls our focus. The imagery here is powerful: loose fabric around a runner’s legs, flapping and tangling, making every step harder. If we want to run with freedom, we must be willing to face and release the sin that keeps us stuck.

Running With Endurance

This is where I confess: the hardest part for me is not the starting. It’s the staying.
The running with endurance.

The Greek word for endurance (hupomone) means perseverance, fortitude, and constancy. It’s not passive—it’s active, gritty, and grounded. It’s the kind of patience that gets back up, again and again, even when the finish line feels far away.

I often think of the phrase “true grit” when I read this passage. That steady, stubborn faithfulness that keeps going even when the path is hard.

Eyes on Jesus

We don’t run alone.
We don’t run blindly.

We run with our eyes fixed on Jesus—the One who started this race, and the One who will see it through.

He is the Author and Finisher of our faith.
He ran this race perfectly.
He endured the cross, despising its shame, for the joy that was set before Him—the joy of reconciling us to the Father.

Jesus didn’t just run the race—He marked the path.
He shows us how to endure with hope. How to obey with joy. How to suffer with trust.

When Life Feels Heavy

Let’s be honest: life can feel overwhelming.
The pressures around us are real.
Living a life of faith in today’s world can feel harder with each passing year.

But this passage reminds us that there is a race set before each of us.
A race specifically designed—marked out—for our journey.
And we have everything we need to run it well:

  • A cloud of faithful witnesses cheering us on.

  • A Savior who has gone before us.

  • A Spirit who strengthens and sustains us.

  • A crown of glory waiting at the finish line.

So Today…

If you’re weary, keep running.
If you’ve stumbled, get back up.
If you’re distracted, refocus your eyes on Jesus.
If you’re carrying extra weight, ask Him what you need to lay down.

You don’t have to run in your own strength.
You don’t have to finish first.
You just have to keep running.

He’s already run ahead.
He’s waiting at the end.
And He’s with you every step along the way.