I once thought I was open-minded — right up until someone disagreed with me.

It’s amazing how fast my “listening face” can morph into my “waiting for you to stop talking so I can explain why you’re wrong” face. If there were an Olympic sport for pretending to listen, I’d have a medal.

The Trouble with Being Sure
The more convinced we are that we’re right, the easier it is to treat other perspectives like potholes — just something to swerve around. But truth isn’t a one-way street where we’re always the traffic cop. Sometimes it’s a detour sign we weren’t expecting.

James 1:19 says, “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.” Which, if we’re honest, is almost exactly backward from how most of us operate.

My Wake-Up Call
Years ago, I was in a leadership meeting where I was sure we needed to go one direction. Another leader suggested something completely different. My mouth was already halfway into the rebuttal when I felt the Holy Spirit nudge: What if they’re right?

I didn’t like that question. But I paused long enough to hear them out — and sure enough, their plan worked better than mine. (I still haven’t entirely forgiven them for that.)

Humor Meets Hard Truth
The problem with always assuming you’re right is that you stop looking for the potholes. And the truth has a way of making them deeper when you ignore them. That’s when you get the spiritual equivalent of blowing a tire — stuck on the side of the road with your pride hissing air.

The Price
I’ve had seasons when my stubbornness didn’t just cost me an idea — it cost me relationships. I held onto “being right” so tightly that it strangled my ability to love well. The truth may be unchanging, but my grip on my own opinion needed some serious loosening.

The Blessed Gift of Being Wrong
We treat “wrong” like it’s a four-letter word. In church circles, being wrong can feel like being caught with toilet paper stuck to your shoe—everyone notices, no one tells you, and you don’t live it down anytime soon.

But here’s the secret gift nobody talks about: being wrong is the doorway to being right. You can’t grow if you’re already perfect. You can’t learn if you already know everything. And you can’t repent if you never admit.

I once misquoted a verse from James in front of a full Bible study. Instead of “be quick to listen, slow to speak,” I swapped it: “be quick to speak, slow to listen.” They laughed—and I felt about three inches tall. But you know what? That moment stuck with everyone. It turned into the most honest discussion we’d ever had about our listening habits.

Humor Break
It’s like wearing your shirt inside out to work. Mortifying? Yes. Memorable? Absolutely. And maybe your coworkers will finally pay attention to you. (Believe it or not, I did this once).

The Bible is full of wrongs turned right. Peter denied Jesus three times—and Jesus still called him to feed His sheep. Paul persecuted the church—and God used him to write half the New Testament. Being wrong didn’t disqualify them; it positioned them for grace.

Vulnerability Window
If I’m honest, I like being right too much. But the older I get, the more I realize being wrong is one of God’s kindest gifts. It pries my fingers off my pride and reminds me: I need Him.

Final Thought
Don’t despise being wrong. Wrong is the soil where humility grows, and humility is where God plants truth.

“But He gives more grace. Therefore, He says: “God resists the proud, But gives grace to the humble.” (James 4:6).

Being wrong can be the one-way street to God’s Grace.