Today, I sat in the church I went to. Feeling sick. Saddened at what all of us were never taught. Tears poured down my cheeks.

Because I recognize that I taught my kids this same stuff. The recycled stuff. With a little added difference.

I prayed that the man calling himself a pastor's ears would open and hear what I spoke. I even told him I love him. I wanted to give him a chance. Whether he chooses to see or not.

He did point himself out as a false prophet. I asked him if he spends 60 minutes teaching his congregation discernment and ways to test the spirits. He said his discernment kicked in.

I told him to go to his Bible and start testing for himself. Do not believe me. Start testing.

He was denying his own biblical text. I asked him why it is that when I started using the biblical text the way Jesus intended, the fog started clearing and I started becoming more clear.

He had no answer for that one.

None.

When he said his discernment kicked in instead of testing the scripture. When he deflected instead of answering. When he denied the text instead of practicing it. When he had no answer for why the fog lifts when the text is used the way Jesus intended.

He pointed himself out. Not with words. With fruit.

The fruit said enough.

He is not a false prophet because I said so. He is a false prophet because he refuses to test. He refuses to practice. He refuses to let the text change him.

He pointed himself out. He just did not realize it.