IN THE MARGINS: When you’re wrong (and you know it)

By Tony Martin
Editor

You know that moment — when you realize you’re wrong about something? Maybe it’s the sinking feeling in your gut. Maybe it’s the awkward silence in the room. Or maybe someone gently (or not-so-gently) points it out. However it happens, one thing’s for sure: it’s not fun.

But being wrong? That’s not the end of the world.

Actually, it might be the beginning of something better.

Let’s face it: none of us like being wrong. We’d much rather be right. We like the security, the confidence, the “I told you so” that comes with being on the correct side of things. But the truth is, growth rarely comes from being right. It often comes from the exact opposite — being wrong, realizing it, and choosing to do something about it.

So… how do you know when you’re wrong?

Sometimes it’s obvious — you’ve been caught red-handed or flat-footed. Other times, it sneaks up on you slowly, like fog rolling in. Maybe you start noticing little clues: your heart feels heavy, a relationship feels strained, or Scripture suddenly hits different.

Sometimes the Holy Spirit nudges. Sometimes a friend gently says, “Hey, can we talk about that thing you said?” And sometimes the evidence piles up until even your pride can’t ignore it anymore.

Jesus said in John 16:13 that the Spirit will guide us into all truth. That includes the truth about ourselves. So if we’re praying, if we’re open, if we’re listening — God has a way of making sure we know when something’s off.

But here’s the kicker: knowing you’re wrong doesn’t fix anything by itself. What really matters is what comes next.

When you are wrong, what do you do?

1. Don’t double down.

Our first instinct? Defend. Explain. Justify. Blame. Anything but admit we blew it. That’s human. But it’s also unhelpful. Doubling down doesn’t make us look stronger — it just digs a deeper hole.

Proverbs 12:15 puts it plainly: “The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice.” It’s okay to not have it all figured out. In fact, it’s wise to admit when you don’t.

2. Put pride in its place.

Pride wants to protect our image. Pride wants to be seen as right, respectable, in control. But pride can’t fix anything. It just keeps the healing at bay.

James 4:6 tells us, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” If that’s true (and it is), then maybe the fastest way to experience grace is to stop pretending and just come clean.

3. Make it right.

Sometimes being wrong means we need to change a behavior or mindset. Other times it means we need to say something. Like “I was wrong.” Or “I’m sorry.” Or even, “Will you forgive me?”

This part isn’t easy, but it’s powerful. Saying the words aloud breaks the grip of shame. It creates room for healing. It shows people (and ourselves) that we care more about the relationship than about being right.

Jesus talks a lot about reconciliation. In Matthew 5, He says if you’re at the altar offering a gift and realize your brother has something against you, go make it right first. That’s how serious He is about restoring peace.

4. Don’t confuse failure with identity.

Just because you messed up doesn’t mean you are a mess-up.

Romans 8:1 is still true: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” Being wrong isn’t a scarlet letter — it’s just part of the process. Everyone misses it sometimes. That’s not the issue. The real issue is what you do with it.

And if you let Him, God can use your misstep to draw you closer, grow your character, and even bless others.

5. Move forward with grace.

One of the gifts of humility is freedom. When you admit you were wrong, own it, and make it right, you’re no longer carrying the burden of performance. You’re walking in grace.

That kind of freedom gives you peace. It also gives other people permission to do the same.

Imagine how our families, our churches, our workplaces would feel if more of us just got honest. If we didn’t need to be perfect. If we could say, “Hey, I got that wrong,” and know it wouldn’t define us — but refine us.

A final thought

If you’re reading this and something’s tugging at your heart—maybe an old argument, a harsh word, a decision you’re not proud of — don’t ignore that tug. That’s not guilt. That’s invitation. It’s God saying, Let’s deal with this together.

He’s not mad at you. He’s not out to embarrass you. He’s for you. And He’s ready to meet you right where you are — with open arms and more grace than you can imagine.

We all mess up. That’s not the question. The question is: Will you let being wrong lead you somewhere right?

You’ve got this. God’s got you.