"But Jesus said nothing will be impossible for you. How is that a metaphor?!"

My grandma and I were driving home from Kansas, where we'd spent the day visiting my great-aunt, who was sick.

It had been an encouraging visit. We'd prayed for several of her health problems and seen some promising changes before leaving.

For much of the three-hour drive, Grandma and I had been talking about our faith. How we saw Christianity, favorite scriptures, our different understandings of certain passages.

Eventually, we landed on Matthew 17:20, where Jesus says faith can move mountains.

Grandma pointed out how often Jesus used parables and metaphors when teaching. She understood this passage the same way.

I was arguing the opposite.

Those words were part of why I'd prayed for Linda that day, expecting her to get better.

I'd bring up other passages where Jesus made similar statements, trying to demonstrate why my interpretation was correct.

She'd point to more examples of Jesus speaking in metaphors.

Back and forth we went until the discussion turned into a full-blown argument.

That's when I felt God prompting me to stop.

So I did…

For a little while.

We'd change the subject, but eventually the conversation would circle back and I'd start arguing all over again.

This continued off and on for another hour.

Finally, about twenty minutes from home, Grandma confronted me about how argumentative I'd become and how unwilling I was to let the disagreement go.

I eventually agreed to disagree. We changed the subject and finished the drive on good terms.

I dropped Grandma off at her house and headed home.

Then He called me out.

Someone disagrees with something you believe Scripture teaches, and you explain why you see it differently.

You bring up a second passage.

They interpret it differently too.

You bring up more passages that you think prove your argument.

They still disagree.

You continue pressing the point because it feels like the faithful thing to do. You don't want them to miss the truth.

But the longer it goes, the more you want them to admit you're right.

Until they do, it feels like your job isn't finished.

I prayed as I drove home.

God cut in immediately to bring the argument back to mind.

She’s right.

He’d prompted me to stop, and I kept finding excuses to start again.

I texted her an apology right when I got home.

In 2 Timothy, Paul warns against quarrels:

“Don’t have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels. And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful. ” - 2 Timothy 2:23-24

Paul goes on to explain that God is the one who grants repentance and leads people to the truth (v. 25).

Someone disagreeing with me doesn't automatically make me wrong, and being convinced I'm right doesn't put me beyond correction.

I can share what I believe confidently and trust God with their response.

I don't need to win an argument to love people and pray for the sick.

Until next time,
Addison