By Angie Kleven

There has always been a great debate about what truly constitutes truth. History shows that the search for it has sparked countless social and spiritual awakenings. When truth is found—and truly believed—it has the power to transform.

Jean Jacques penned these words:

Then say, what is truth? ’Tis the last and the first,
For the limits of time it steps o’er.
Tho the heavens depart and the earth’s fountains burst,
Truth, the sum of existence, will weather the worst,
Eternal, unchanged, evermore.

One of the great secrets about truth is that to find it, we often have to look beyond appearances. What seems real is often nothing more than a well-crafted illusion—one designed to distract us and keep us from understanding deeper reality. But once we learn to tell the difference between appearances and truth, we free ourselves from artificial limits. We find that we can do more, know more, and become more.

To discern truth, we must strengthen two essential faculties: faith and intuition.

Faith in a Creator who is omniscient and omnipotent. Faith that He knows us by name, loves us deeply, and has a plan for each of our lives. We must believe that when we pray, He hears us—and that when He speaks, we can learn to hear Him too.

That sacred communication—God speaking to us—is often what we call intuition. It speaks through thoughts, through feelings, and more often than not, it contradicts what the world around us tells us is real.

Jesus Christ often revealed the gap between appearances and truth, showing us how to live with spiritual vision and divine perspective. One of my favorite examples comes from a moment near the Sea of Galilee, where Christ was teaching a crowd of over 5,000. When evening fell and the disciples suggested sending everyone home to eat, Christ told them to gather all the food they had. What they found? Just two fish and five loaves of bread.

By all appearances, that would barely feed a handful of people—certainly not thousands. Yet, after Christ blessed the food and it was distributed, everyone ate until they were full. And when it was over, the disciples gathered twelve baskets of leftovers. Appearances said it wasn’t possible. Truth said otherwise.

Later that night, after sending the crowd home, Christ instructed His disciples to cross the sea without Him. While on the water, a storm arose. Just before dawn, they saw what they thought was a spirit walking on the water and became terrified. But it was Christ. When He invited Peter to come to Him, Peter got out of the boat and actually walked on water—until fear set in. The wind distracted him. He began to sink. After saving him, Christ gently asked, “O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?”

These stories are more than miracles. They’re reminders that the limitations we believe in… aren’t real. Christ was showing us that the appearance of lack, danger, or impossibility is just that—appearance. When we choose to see with faith, and trust in divine truth over worldly "reality," we gain access to power beyond our comprehension.

And yet, fear is always the barrier. Had Peter kept his focus on Christ and ignored the wind, he would’ve walked all the way to Him. But like so many of us, he became distracted by the noise around him—the impossibility of his own success—and he sank.

Christ’s question is still relevant today: Wherefore didst thou doubt?

What are we actually capable of?
What is truly possible for us?
And what fear is keeping us from finding out?

If we’re willing to ask those questions honestly—and confront the false limits we’ve accepted as “reality”—we’ll find that walking on water isn’t just a miracle from long ago.

It’s a metaphor for the kind of life we’re meant to live too.

John Jacques, "Oh Say, What Is Truth?" in Hymns of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. (Salt Lake City, UT: Deseret Book Company, 1985) Hymn 272.

Matthew 14:31. The Holy Bible. King James Version