Sometimes I feel completely alone in my research and in what I believe. When I try to share my thoughts — what I think is the real history and what I’ve discovered in Scripture and old records — I watch it happen: some people slowly change the subject, some look at me like I’ve grown a second head, and some just sigh and say, “Well, does it really matter? What will it change?”
I understand their reaction. Because honestly, I’ve asked myself the same thing many times.
The deeper I go, the more I realize how different the true story is from what we’ve been taught. And that leads me to a new, harder question: what do I share with Tempe?
Do I tell her — in gentle, child-sized pieces — that the earth isn’t what she’s being taught in school? That history books leave out entire layers of reality and meaning? How do I teach her to think critically and seek truth, while also protecting her innocence and joy?
I don’t want to burden her childhood, but I also don’t want to hand her over to a system that molds her without question. It feels like a tightrope walk between protecting her and preparing her.
I know I’m not the only one wrestling with this. For those of us who dig deeper, who question, who keep turning stones over even when everyone else says “just leave it alone” — it can feel isolating.
But even in that isolation, I hold on to this: Truth matters. Even when it costs us comfort, connection, or the easy path.
So I keep digging. And I keep praying for wisdom on how to share it — especially with the little heart that looks up to me the most.
“Teach me Your way, O Lord; I will walk in Your truth; unite my heart to fear Your name.” — Psalm 86:11