The Power of Saying I Was Wrong

Cover Article

by Michael Jones · Week of September 27, 2026

Picture a wall built one stone at a time. Each stone is a moment of pride swallowed, a wound ignored, an apology withheld. Before long the wall stands so tall you can no longer see the person on the other side: the spouse, the friend, the brother or sister in Christ you once held dear. That wall is what unconfessed sin builds between us. But God never intended for His children to live behind fortifications of pride. James tells us plainly, “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed” (James 5:16). The Holy Spirit does not say we might be healed. He says we will be healed. Confession is the God-designed gateway to restoration. When we say “I was wrong,” we do not diminish ourselves. We become more like Christ, who “humbled himself by becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8). If the Son of God could lay aside heaven’s privileges for our sake, surely we can lay aside our pride for a wounded relationship.

Our resistance to confession is as old as Eden. When Adam sinned, he hid among the trees and blamed Eve; Eve blamed the serpent (Genesis 3:12–13). Concealment felt safer than honesty, and we have been repeating that pattern ever since. Solomon saw the futility of it: “Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy” (Proverbs 28:13). The person who hides sin hits a dead end, spiritually, relationally, emotionally. There is no forward movement while we are crouching behind a mask. But the one who confesses “finds mercy,” and that mercy is like a river breaking through a dam, rushing into every cracked and dry place in our hearts. John reinforces this: “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). God does not grudgingly pardon us. He is faithful. It is His very nature to forgive when we come honestly before Him.

We must be clear, though, about what genuine confession looks like, because the world has cheapened the word. Genuine confession is not “I was wrong, but you need to understand why.” That is negotiation dressed in an apology’s clothing. True confession says, “I was wrong. I sinned against you. I am sorry.” And then it stops. David models this beautifully in Psalm 51. After his grievous sin with Bathsheba, he did not offer God a list of extenuating circumstances. He cried, “Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight” (Psalm 51:4). He owned it completely. And look at what God did with that broken honesty: He restored David, gave him a clean heart, and renewed a steadfast spirit within him (Psalm 51:10). God does extraordinary work with an honest confession. Paul reminds us that “godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death” (2 Corinthians 7:10). There is a sorrow that merely feels bad about getting caught, and there is a sorrow that grieves because it has offended a holy God and wounded a beloved person. Only the second kind leads to real change.

If there is a relationship in your life shadowed by unspoken hurt, a marriage grown cold, a friendship strained, a fellow Christian you have been avoiding, I want to gently ask: could three honest words begin to tear that wall down? “I was wrong.” It is not weakness to say them. It is the kind of strength that reflects the heart of God Himself, who “demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). God moved toward us before we ever moved toward Him. We can do the same for one another. Children learn something profound when they watch an adult say those words. They learn that mistakes do not define a person; how we respond to them does. And the church, the body of Christ, grows stronger every time one of its members chooses honesty over image. “Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you” (Colossians 3:12–13). Confession opens the door. Forgiveness walks through it. And on the other side stands grace: the grace of God that heals what nothing else can. - MJ

Other congregations are welcome to reprint this. It may be reproduced in another congregation’s bulletin or newsletter without asking permission. An acknowledgement of Orange View Church of Christ is appreciated but not required.

Bible Questions & Answers

What does the Bible teach about heaven? Will we recognize each other?

Few questions touch the heart as deeply as this one, and Scripture provides real and comforting answers. The most extended description of our eternal home appears in Revelation 21–22, where John writes, “I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them’” (Revelation 21:2–3). The Greek word for “dwell” here is skēnoō, meaning to pitch a tent or tabernacle, the same imagery used of Christ in John 1:14, where the Word “became flesh and made his dwelling among us.” Heaven’s defining characteristic is not golden streets or jeweled gates. Heaven is heaven because God is there, dwelling permanently and intimately with His people. John adds, “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21:4). Every sorrow that marks this fallen world will be undone in that place.

But the question that presses on so many hearts is personal: will I know my loved ones there? Scripture answers with a clear yes. Paul writes, “For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known” (1 Corinthians 13:12). The verb “know fully” translates the Greek epiginōskō, a strengthened form of ginōskō that denotes thorough, complete recognition. Paul’s argument is not that we will know less in eternity but incomparably more. If we recognize one another now in our limited state, how much more will we know each other when every barrier of sin and ignorance has been removed? After His resurrection, Jesus was recognized by Mary at the tomb (John 20:16), by the two on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:30–31), and by Thomas when he saw the nail marks (John 20:27–28). The resurrected body is transformed, but identity is preserved. Peter, James, and John recognized Moses and Elijah on the Mount of Transfiguration (Matthew 17:3–4), men they had never met in the flesh. Recognition in the eternal state will not be diminished; it will be perfected.

Some have been confused by Jesus’ response to the Sadducees regarding marriage in the resurrection. When they posed their hypothetical about a woman married to seven brothers, Jesus replied, “At the resurrection people will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven” (Matthew 22:30). It is important to read this text carefully. Jesus is correcting the Sadducees’ misunderstanding of the resurrection, not erasing the reality of personal relationships. The institution of marriage will not carry forward in its earthly form, but that does not mean love, knowledge, or fellowship will cease. “Like the angels” refers to the nature of our resurrected existence, not to the erasure of our identities. Angels in Scripture know one another, communicate, and serve together (Daniel 10:13; Luke 1:19). Being “like the angels” in this respect means our relationships will be freed from the limitations of mortality, not stripped of the bonds forged in this life.

Paul offers one final and deeply encouraging word. Writing to the Thessalonians who were grieving their dead, he says, “For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever” (1 Thessalonians 4:16–17). He then adds, “Therefore encourage one another with these words” (1 Thessalonians 4:18). The word “together” here is the Greek hama, meaning “at the same time, in company with.” Paul’s entire purpose was to comfort believers who feared they had lost their loved ones forever. His answer is unambiguous: we will be gathered together, with the Lord forever. Heaven is first and foremost the dwelling place of God, and every joy we experience there flows from His presence. But part of that joy includes the fellowship of the redeemed: knowing and being known, fully and forever, in the light of His perfect love. If you are grieving, take heart. The separation is temporary. The reunion is eternal. - MJ