He Trusted in the Lord: When Faith Is Challenged and Reform Becomes Necessary | Come Follow Me 2 Kings 16–25

July 12, 2026July 11, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

Let’s face the reality and truth: Our faith is going to be tested time and time again. Much of the time, there are going to be those seasons where our faith is not tested through seasons of silence. Instead, they are going to be tested through seasons where there are clamor and noise.

The Assyrian voice outside the wall is quite loud. The threat is very public. The accusation is calculated. And the enemy does not merely attack Jerusalem’s defenses; the enemy attacks Jerusalem’s confidence in God. I want to say this again: The enemy does not merely attack Jerusalem’s defenses because the enemy attacks Jerusalem’s confidence in God. This becomes a powerful tension in 2 Kings 16-25. For good reason, because the issue is not only whether Judah is capable of surviving Assyria or Babylon. The deeper question is whether God’s people will trust the Lord when worldly power looks more practical than covenant faithfulness.

This week’s Come Follow Me lesson, “He Trusted in the Lord God of Israel,” places us in some of the darkest years of Israel and Judah’s history. The Northern Kingdom is conquered and scattered by Assyria. Whereas the Southern Kingdom struggles with idolatry, compromise, fear, reform, and eventual destruction. Yet in the middle of spiritual rebellion and decline, two kings stand out: Kink Hezekiah, who trusted the Lord when Jerusalem was threatened, and King Josiah who seemed to turn to scripture and renew covenants when the Book of the Law was rediscovered. The latter resulting in what scholars refer to as the Deuteronomist Reform or the Josiah Reformation. Bridging first temple Judaism with the movement toward what will become the Second Temple era of Jewish history.

The contrast here is quite sobering as Ahaz looked to Assyria for security and compromised the First Temple – or Solomon’s Temple. While Hezekiah seemed to turn to look unto the Lord and went to the temple in prayer. Josiah heard the scriptures, humbled himself, and led a reform that reshaped Jewish history and religious worship. Zedekiah rebelled and Babylon rose up – bringing destruction upon Jerusalem. It’s destruction of the city and temple a fulfillment of prophecy the Jew’s of First Temple Jerusalem refused to accept.

These chapters teach that trust is not something built upon sentimental optimism. Trust is built on covenantal loyalty while under pressure and enduring the refiner’s fire.

Afflicted, Yet Highly Favored | Finding God’s Goodness in a Broken World — 1 Nephi 1

July 7, 2026July 7, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

What does it truly mean to be highly favored of God?

Many of us carry an underlying assumption that if we are faithful, life should become easier. We expect obedience to produce comfort, clarity, answered prayers, and protection from suffering. Yet Jesus never promised a life without hardship. He said, “In the world ye shall have tribulation,” but then added, “be of good cheer; I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). Nephi begins his record with this same tension. He had “seen many afflictions,” and yet he described himself as “highly favored of the Lord” (1 Nephi 1:1).

How can both be true?

Perhaps God’s favor is not proven by the hardships He prevents, but by His presence within the hardships we endure. Joseph was falsely accused and imprisoned, yet even there “the Lord was with Joseph, and shewed him mercy” (Genesis 39:20–21). Divine favor does not always mean receiving the life we hoped to have. Sometimes it means discovering the life God is forming within us through His goodness, grace, and sustaining presence.

Nephi does not deny or minimize his afflictions. Instead, he interprets them through his “great knowledge of the goodness and the mysteries of God” (1 Nephi 1:1).

That distinction matters.

Affliction was part of Nephi’s story, but it was not the final meaning of his story. As Paul later taught, tribulation can produce patience, experience, and hope because the love of God is poured into our hearts through the Holy Ghost (Romans 5:3–5).

First Nephi chapter 1 begins with affliction and divine favor, but it ends with faith and divine deliverance. Between those two declarations, Jerusalem receives a prophetic warning (1 Nephi 1:4). Lehi prays “with all his heart” on behalf of his people (1 Nephi 1:5). Heaven opens, revelation comes, and Lehi is called to testify of the Messiah and “the redemption of the world” (1 Nephi 1:19).

The people reject his message, mock him, and seek his life. Yet rejection does not have the final word. Nephi concludes by declaring that “the tender mercies of the Lord” are over those who exercise faith, making them mighty “unto the power of deliverance” (1 Nephi 1:20). Even God’s warnings reveal His mercy. The Lord declares that He takes no pleasure in destruction but desires that the wicked turn from their ways and live (Ezekiel 33:11). God warns because He loves. He confronts because He desires repentance, healing, and restoration.

God’s warnings are expressions of His mercy, and those who respond in faith will discover His power to deliver.

Today, we will walk through 1 Nephi chapter 1 and examine how Nephi interpreted his afflictions through God’s goodness and tender mercies.

We will see Lehi respond to a broken world with intercessory prayer rather than condemnation. We will examine how revelation led him to proclaim Jesus Christ and redemption. And we will discover why the rejection of God’s message could not overcome His power to preserve and deliver the faithful.

As we study, we must also ask ourselves: How are we interpreting our own afflictions? Are we measuring God’s goodness only by the circumstances we want Him to change? Could the correction or warning we are resisting actually be an expression of His mercy? Scripture does not promise that the righteous will avoid affliction. It declares, “Many are the afflictions of the righteous: but the Lord delivereth him out of them all” (Psalm 34:19).

God’s favor is not measured by the absence of hardship. It is revealed through His faithful presence, His goodness made known, and His sustaining mercy through every affliction. We may experience many afflictions and still be highly favored of the Lord. The hardship is real—but so are His tender mercies. And because His mercy is real, affliction does not have the final word.

There Is a Prophet in Israel: When You Feel Surrounded, God Is Still Working | Come Follow Me 2 Kings 2–7

July 5, 2026July 10, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

There were moments in my own life when the challenges seemed larger than the promise. The overall pressure felt immediate. Fear seemed quite rational. The surrounding issues seemed visible, measurable, and impossible to ignore. This is where Elisha’s servant saw when he woke and found the city surrounded by horses and chariots. The servant’s question was not dramatic, it is quite human: “Alas, my master! How shall we do?”

Elisha did not deny the reality of the danger. He did not pretend the army was not there. He simply saw more than the servant saw. His answer is one of the great faith-building declarations of scripture: “Fear not: for they that be with us are more than they that be with them.” Elisha, then, prayed that the Lord will open the young man’s eyes, and suddenly the mountain was filled with heavenly help. The issue had not changed, the servant’s vision had.

This is the very heart of this week’s Come Follow Me lesson in 2 Kings 2-7. The title of the lesson is, “There is a Prophet in Israel,” and it walks us through the ministry of Elisha, the successor of Elijah. These chapters are filled with miracles: water healed, oil multiplied, a child raised, poisoned food purified, bread multiplied, Naaman cleansed, an ax head recovered, armies restrained, and prophetic words fulfilled. Yet the deeper message is not merely how miracles happened, nor how long ago they happened, because the deeper message is that the Lord still works through covenant faith, prophetic authority, humble obedience, and spiritual eyes that learn to see beyond fear and doubt.

The official Come Follow Me material notes that although Elisha’s record does not preserve much of his direct teaching, his miracles testify of Christ’s life-giving, nourishing, and healing power. These miracles point us to the Savior who raises, feeds, cleanses, restores, and opens up eyes. They invite us to ask the same prayer Elisha offered: Lord, open our eyes, that we may see.

Rehoboam’s Pride, Elijah’s Fire & the Voice You’re Missing | 1 Kings 12-13; 17–22 CFM

June 28, 2026June 28, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

Choose This Day: Finding Christ in the Divided Kingdoms of Our Lives

Quite frankly, I am grateful for the many people who have come into my life and spoken to me directly, compassionately, and with genuine understanding. They showed patience and grace without sitting in judgment over me. They met me in difficult and messy moments, listened to what I was carrying, and helped me confront unhealthy attitudes and behaviors without condemning me.

Yet, if I am completely honest, I have also carried resentment, bitterness, self-hatred, and anger toward people whom I believed had betrayed, ignored, or abandoned me.

Every one of us is shaped—lifted, wounded, strengthened, or misled—by the voices we choose to follow.

Families may rise or fall because of those voices. Communities may flourish or fracture because of them. Our faith may deepen or drift depending on whose counsel we trust and whose influence we permit to guide our decisions.

Much of the pain we carry may be traced to someone who used influence selfishly—or to someone who possessed the ability to help but refused to use it.

The opposite is also true.

Some of the deepest healing we experience comes through Christlike leaders, mentors, friends, and disciples who choose to show up, serve, and sacrifice. They meet us in places where others might pass by. They take time to understand, comfort, encourage, and help us move forward without excusing destructive behavior or enabling us to remain stuck.

That tension between selfish influence and Christlike service stands at the heart of this week’s Come, Follow Me study for June 29–July 5: “If the Lord Be God, Follow Him,” covering 1 Kings 12–13 and 17–22.

What the Divinity of Jesus Christ Means to You

June 21, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

Why Jesus Alone Could Accomplish the Infinite and Eternal Atonement

What manner of man commands the wind and sea—and they obey Him? He who speaks to the chaotic elements and they submit to His will, revealing His divine authority over nature itself. His voice echoes through the storm, bringing peace where there was turmoil, demonstrating an unparalleled mastery that transcends human understanding.

What manner of man possesses the power to lay down His life and take it up again? He who, with the authority inherent to His being, presents the ultimate sacrifice, fully aware of the weight of such a decision. In laying down His life, He unveils the profound mystery of love and redemption. The same strength that allows Him to give Himself away also empowers Him to conquer death, rising triumphantly to provide hope and eternal life to humanity.

What manner of man suffers more than mortal humanity can endure, yet remains until the work of redemption is complete? He bears the weight of all humanity’s sins, feeling the depths of anguish and despair, yet persevering through the agony to fulfill His purpose. His empathy is boundless, experiencing sorrow in ways that only a divine nature could comprehend. In His endurance, He illustrates the profound depth of grace, revealing that true strength is often displayed in vulnerability and unwavering commitment to a higher calling, despite the unbearable cost.

This man is a testament to the coexistence of power and humility, a divine figure whose actions reshape the narrative of humanity’s relationship with the Creator. His life and legacy stand as an eternal beacon of hope, a call to embrace the extraordinary potential within each of us to rise above our circumstances and to foster love, compassion, and redemption in a world so often in need of these gifts.

These questions stand at the center of Doctrine Lesson 6, “What the Divinity of Jesus Christ Means to You,” from the 1974–75 Melchizedek Priesthood study guide When Thou Art Converted, Strengthen Thy Brethren. The lesson’s purpose was not merely to establish that Jesus was extraordinary. It invited priesthood holders to understand why Jesus Christ alone possessed power to accomplish the infinite and eternal Atonement—and why every one of us remains completely dependent upon Him.

Nearly five decades later, that central purpose remains unchanged. Some of the language used in the original lesson, however, has generated theological questions and apologetic controversy. In particular, statements by James E. Talmage and Bruce R. McConkie about Christ’s literal divine sonship have been interpreted by critics as teaching that God the Father physically descended and engaged in sexual intercourse with Mary.

A responsible modern treatment must do more than dismiss that criticism. It must distinguish among what scripture reveals, what individual Church leaders have proposed or speculated, and what the Church currently teaches as established doctrine.

It is best we do not allow controversy over the manner of Christ’s conception to distract us from the greater truth: Jesus Christ did for us what we could never do for ourselves.

Hear Thou in Heaven Their Prayer: Returning to God with All Your Heart

June 21, 2026June 21, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

There are moments when the distance between faithfulness and failure feels almost impossibly small.

A glance lingers. A private desire is entertained. A warning is dismissed. One compromise makes the next compromise easier, and before long, a person who once walked closely with God finds himself standing in the wreckage of choices he never imagined he would make.

That is part of the tragedy of David’s story.

Yet this week’s Come Follow Me 2026 Old Testament study does not leave us standing on the rooftop with David, trapped in the moment when temptation first entered his heart. It carries us into Nathan’s courageous confrontation, through David’s anguish and the painful consequences of sin, and onward into Solomon’s prayer for wisdom and his dedication of the house of the Lord.

At the center of these chapters is a plea filled with covenant hope:

“If they shall bethink themselves in the land whither they were carried captives, and repent, and make supplication unto thee … saying, We have sinned, and have done perversely, we have committed wickedness; And so return unto thee with all their heart, and with all their soul … then hear thou their prayer and their supplication in heaven thy dwelling place, and maintain their cause.” —1 Kings 8:47–49, KJV

This is not a lesson about flawless kings or effortless discipleship. David fell. Solomon began with wisdom and ended with a divided heart. Both stories warn us that yesterday’s spiritual strength cannot substitute for today’s surrender.

But these chapters also testify that God has provided a covenant path of return. He hears the prayer of the humble. He grants wisdom to those who sincerely seek it. He establishes His name in His holy house. Through Jesus Christ, He invites wounded, wandering, and repentant people to come home.

The question is not merely whether David or Solomon remained faithful. The question is whether our hearts are fully turned toward the Lord today.

The Battle Is the Lord’s: Facing Your Goliath with Faith in Jesus Christ

June 14, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

Come Follow Me | June 15-21 | “The battle is the Lord’s.” —1 Samuel 17:47

There are seasons in life when the challenge standing before us seems larger than our faith, stronger than our resolve, and better equipped than anything we possess. We may know the language of faith, remember the promises of scripture, and sincerely believe that God is with us, yet the giant still appears to dominate the valley. It calls attention to our weakness, rehearses our failures, magnifies our fears, and confidently predicts our defeat.

For one person, that giant may be addiction or the relentless temptation to return to an old way of living. For another, it may be grief, rejection, loneliness, financial uncertainty, family conflict, shame, resentment, or the lingering consequences of decisions that cannot be undone. Some giants appear suddenly, while others have occupied the valley for years, issuing the same challenge every morning and evening until fear begins to feel like the natural condition of life.

The Come, Follow Me lesson for June 15–21, covering 1 Samuel 17–18; 24–26 and 2 Samuel 5–7, invites us to look again at David’s story and hear his declaration that “the battle is the Lord’s.” That declaration does not mean our participation is unnecessary, nor does it promise that discipleship will protect us from every difficulty. David still walked into the valley, selected the stones, prepared his sling, and confronted the enemy. What he refused to do was accept the assumption that the outcome depended entirely upon his own size, strength, resources, or experience.

David understood that he was participating in a battle whose final authority belonged to God.

That same truth can transform the way we approach our spiritual battles today. We do not have to pretend that our giants are small. We do not have to deny the pain, complexity, or danger of what stands before us. Faith does not require us to minimize reality; it teaches us to see reality within the greater reality of God’s power, covenant faithfulness, and redemptive purposes.

Social Media Gainsayers: The Anti-Mormon Playbook Has Not Changed—Only the Platforms Have

June 12, 2026June 15, 2026 Timothy R. Berman2 Comments

How Ex-Mormon Influencers, Evangelical Critics, and Online Ministries Repackage the Same Arguments for YouTube, TikTok, Facebook, Podcasts, and Livestreams

In 1989, anti-Latter-day Saint ministries, often referred to as Counter-cult or Anti-Mormon groups, relied heavily on printed tracts, cassette tapes, books, traveling seminars, church presentations, and controversial films—most notably, The Godmakers. Pastors would announce special meetings from their pulpits, offering “classes” on how to witness to Mormons. If you strolled into any brick-and-mortar Christian bookstore, you’d find a substantial collection of books specifically discussing the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Among the more notable titles were Kingdom of the Cults by the late Walter Martin, Letters to a Mormon Elder by James White of Alpha and Omega Ministries, Mormonism 101 by Bill McKeever and Eric Johnson, and Mormons Answered Verse by Verse by David A. Reed and John R. Farkas. In addition to these apologist works, you’d also discover a range of small group and individual study guides about the LDS faith.

As if that weren’t enough, it wasn’t uncommon for members of the faith to be invited over to a family friend’s or relative’s home for dinner, only to be introduced to a friendly couple. The gentleman would often start the conversation with, “I used to be a Mormon, but I’ve found Jesus.” This felt like a kind of religious intervention aimed at coaxing you to leave the church. I experienced this firsthand in my early twenties when my mother-in-law invited my then-wife and me over for dinner. That evening plunged me into the world of Anti-Mormonism and apologetics. I had already purchased They Lie in Wait to Deceive by the Browns (I had all four volumes at that time), The Truth About the Godmakers by Gilbert Scharff, and The Gainsayers: A Converted Anti-Mormon Responds to the Critics of the LDS Church by Derrick T. Evenson—this last book serving as the foundation for my Social Media Gainsayers series.

This atmosphere left minimal opportunity for individuals to hear a meaningful response from Latter-day Saints. The urgency of the message was unmistakable: “They are stealing your people. They must be stopped,” as Ed Decker wrote in his letter to pastors, promoting his book and film, The Godmakers. Fast forward more than three decades, and we see that the media landscape has undergone a dramatic transformation. Pamphlets have turned into Facebook posts, and cassette tapes have been replaced by podcasts. Traveling seminars have morphed into YouTube livestreams and channels, while the controversial film The Godmakers has resurfaced on social media platforms, mainly appearing as “The Mormon Banned Cartoon.” Church basement presentations have transitioned into TikTok debates and live discussions. The once-printed quotations, often stripped of context, have been condensed into fifteen-second video clips and responses. What used to be the anti-Mormon bookstore shelf has now become algorithmically generated playlists.

The technology has changed, distribution has accelerated, and the audience is now global. Yet, the underlying playbook remains startlingly familiar. Today’s social media gainsayers might identify themselves as Ex-Mormons, evangelical Christian pastors, Christian apologists, cult experts, deconstruction coaches, religious commentators, or former “insiders.” Though they use differing methods, it’s crucial to note that not every critic of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is manipulative, dishonest, or deceptive.

Legitimate criticisms deserve legitimate responses. Difficult historical questions should never be ignored, and former members have every right to share their personal experiences. Likewise, Christians have every right to express their disagreements with Latter-day Saint theology. The challenge arises when personal experiences are framed as universal facts, theological disagreements are marketed as scandals, and mockery and insults take the place of honest discussions. Unfortunately, algorithms often amplify the most hostile narratives.

That’s when criticism turns into gainsaying. As Latter-day Saints, we bear the responsibility to stand firm in our faith and testimony, for it is through “sound doctrine that we both exhort and convince the gainsayers” (Titus 1:9, KJV).

Set the Sail for Recovery & Sobriety — The Urge to Share

June 7, 2026June 13, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

In my own life, I’ve learned that the most powerful ministry moments are never scripted—they are Spirit‑led. They happen when we are sensitive to the still small voice, when our hearts are open, and when we allow God to interrupt our day for the sake of someone else’s pain.

Years ago, I was at a local church, carrying more than I could handle. A phone call from my father had shaken me, and a careless comment from someone nearby only deepened the wound. I stepped outside, sat on the front steps, and honestly—I wasn’t praying. I was stewing. Hurting. Lost in the swirl of emotion.

Then a young man walked up, sat beside me, and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “I was driving by,” he said quietly, “and the Holy Spirit told me to turn around. Anything I can pray for?” He didn’t preach. He didn’t correct. He didn’t offer advice. He simply sat with me and prayed.

That moment has stayed with me for years because it revealed something essential about the heart of Christ: To share the light of Jesus is to sit with people in their mess without judgment. This is not merely an act of companionship but a profound demonstration of love and solidarity. It challenges us to look beyond our own struggles and step into the vulnerability of another, reflecting the grace we have received in our own times of need.

This is the heart of today’s message. In an age where everyone seems to be vying for attention, it can be exceedingly rare to find someone who is willing to pause, listen, and simply be present. Yet, it is in these unassuming moments that we often see the clearest reflection of Christ’s love. When we allow ourselves to connect with another’s sorrow, we become vessels of hope.

Anchor verse: Romans 10:10 — “For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.” This verse serves as a reminder that our faith is rooted in a heart-to-heart connection with God, which in turn shapes how we connect with others. The Lord looks upon the heart of a person (1 Samuel 16:7) because it is within the heart where we struggle with identity and purpose, grappling with understanding how God loves those who are so broken and distraught. To have the heart of the Father (Psalm 103:13) means we have a deep and compassionate concern for those suffering.

Our ministry efforts, our outreach, and our words should mirror this heart of compassion. How we minister—how we share—and the urge and desire to comfort those in distress are accomplished through the ministering of the Holy Spirit. It is through the Holy Spirit that we find the strength to empathize, listen, and provide solace. This is how we build up the Kingdom of God, by fulfilling the call to truly mourn with those who mourn and walk alongside them, carrying their burden as Christ carried our burdens (Galatians 6:2).

Today, we are going to look at the Urge to share the message of hope and how we minister as the light of Christ and the Glory of the Father. We are set upon the hill, shining as a beacon for all who are struggling in their own despair. More than just an act of faith, sharing our hope involves actively engaging with those around us, bringing the light of Christ to their darkness. We must be vigilant and willing to heed the call when the Holy Spirit nudges us, reminding us that even the smallest actions can lead to significant transformations in the lives of others. Let us embrace our roles as conduits of God’s love, ensuring that the light we shine is a reflection of His unconditional love and grace.

Full Post Moved to Sacred Sobriety | Set the Sail for Recovery – Urgency to Share

Molded by God: Identity, Healing, and the Beauty of Being Fearfully and Wonderfully Made (Psalm 139:14)

June 4, 2026June 16, 2026 Timothy R. BermanLeave a comment

I always had this inclination that something was wrong. And whenever that feeling rose up, I was convinced it was because of someone else. Someone failing me. Someone not stepping up. Someone not doing the honorable thing. I lived with this constant sense that other people were the reason I suffered. And underneath all of that? A deep ache that no one truly cared, no one appreciated me, no one saw the effort I poured out trying to prove myself.

I chased validation like oxygen. I wanted approval so badly that I shaped myself around what I thought others wanted. I tried to be the “better person” in the eyes of everyone else, all while never actually seeing who I was. I was blind to my own entitlement, blind to my victimhood, blind to the way I was both the victim and the villain in someone else’s story. Hypervigilant. Defensive. Exhausted. And yes—hurt by real betrayals, real lies, real wounds that left me carrying depression, resentment, bitterness, and anxiety like a backpack full of bricks.

And then came the moment that broke me open.

My father had just been released from the hospital after months in intensive care from a brutal auto accident. I had given up everything to be there. And yet, I found myself standing on a cold Seattle curb in January of 2005 with nothing but a backpack, work boots, and three cartons of cigarettes. No home. No money. No plan. No one.

I walked the streets of Seattle wondering if this was the end of me.

But God had other plans.

A transitional housing program took me in. I rested. I worked. I rebuilt. And slowly—slowly—I found my way back to faith. But even then, I still couldn’t see myself clearly. I still felt unworthy. I still lived for validation. I still believed I had to earn dignity, earn love, earn respect.

It wasn’t until years later that the Holy Spirit began breaking the spiritual blindness I had carried for so long. And the revelation was simple, but it shook me to my core:

I didn’t know who I was. And I didn’t know how my Heavenly Father saw me.

Anchor Verse — Psalm 139:14 (NASB2020): “I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Your works, And my soul knows it very well.”

Two words rise like mountains in this verse: fearfully and wonderfully. Fearfully — yārē’ — to stand in awe, reverence, astonishment. Wonderfully — pālā’ — marvelous, extraordinary, beyond human ability.

This is not casual language. This is identity language. God is not saying, “You’re barely acceptable.” He is saying, “You are My intentional, awe-inspiring work.” We are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works that He prepared beforehand (Ephesians 2:10). Even when we feel like a mistake, God calls us purposeful, crafted, and known (Psalm 139:1–4).

So today, let’s walk slowly through what it means to be fearfully and wonderfully made—especially when we don’t feel like it. Especially when addiction, shame, trauma, or codependency have distorted the mirror we look into. Especially when our past tells us one story, but God is trying to tell us another.

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