Today we hear a lot of noise—voices, headlines, opinions, and repetition—all claiming to tell us what is true. The real question is not what is loud, but how we know what is true. Recently, I had a conversation with some of my granddaughters about how to tell the difference between right and wrong, and that question became the center of our discussion.
I began by explaining that lies rarely succeed because they are obvious at first. More often, they succeed because they are introduced carefully and repeated consistently. I used an example often associated with Nancy Pelosi, to illustrate how persuasion and lying often work in our culture. The process is simple: a claim quietly leaks to the media, someone else says it first, it circulates, and later the coverage and public awareness are used as proof that it must be true. Once enough people repeat something, it begins to sound like fact, even when it is not. Lies require repetition to survive. They must be remembered, defended, and repeated. Truth does not work that way.
That same pattern is everywhere today. Many people now believe that repetition creates truth. But truth is not established by agreement, volume, or popularity. Scripture tells us, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” Truth stands on its own. It does not need to be rehearsed or protected. What is right produces blessing, and what is wrong produces consequences, no matter how many people defend it.
To make this practical, I asked them a simple question. If a married person commits adultery, will that lead to blessing, or will it lead to consequences? The answer was obvious. Then we talked about something much smaller—a “little” lie. I asked, “What would the consequence be?” Without hesitation, they said, “A lack of trust.” That moment made something clear: lies always damage something. They may seem small, but they leave a trail behind them. Truth, on the other hand, stays consistent because it does not need to be remembered or managed.
From there, we talked about ideas being taught in schools today. I asked if they had heard the phrase, “I was born this way,” and they said yes. Then I asked the most important question: how do we know whether that statement is true? Do we decide the way the world does—by repetition, affirmation, and popularity—or do we measure it against something unchanging? Scripture warns us, “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil.” Truth does not shift to fit feelings. It remains steady, even when it is unpopular.
I also explained the difference between hard times and consequences, because they are often confused. You can do the right thing and still experience hardship. Hard times are part of life and often part of God’s refining work. Scripture reminds us, “For our present troubles are small and will not last very long, yet they produce for us a glory that will last forever.” Hard times are temporary. Consequences, however, remain as long as the wrong choice continues. The Bible is clear: “Do not be deceived: God is not mocked. Whatever a person sows, that he will also reap.”
The world’s way of avoiding the word wrong is to gather agreement—more voices, more headlines, more affirmation—believing that consensus can turn a lie into truth. But truth does not bend with culture. God alone defines what is right, and He does not change His standards because the crowd grows louder. Lies must constantly be explained and defended. Truth simply is.
Here is the hard reality: lies do not become true because they are repeated, and truth does not stop being true because it is rejected. A lie has to be remembered to stay alive. Truth does not. Every life eventually reveals the difference. Truth leads to freedom, clarity, and blessing. Lies always lead to confusion, bondage, and consequences. The real question is not what the world says is true, but whether we are willing to measure what we hear against what never changes.