
Correction is a valuable gift that often comes in ugly wrapping. The paper is sharp and it cuts your hands going in. There is life inside, but only the person who actually wants the good is brave enough to tear it open.
Most of us never get that far. Rather than admit we simply do not want the discomfort of being told we are wrong or that we are doing something poorly, we invent reasons to walk away from the package altogether.
I want to list the most popular strategies we (often unknowingly) use to ignore correction, but first let me grant what is true. Not every criticism is correct. Some people hand you rocks and call it gold. Tone really does affect how well we hear things and a man who ignores his own faults really has given you a reason to wonder about his judgment. None of that is imaginary. The trouble is that we almost never raise these objections while we are weighing a criticism. We raise them after we have already decided to refuse it. For many, these things are not reasons as much as they are excuses.
However, for others, there is one more thing to say. Not every hard thing we hear is genuine correction. Some are just cuts meant to hurt. If that is your situation, or you suspect it may be, you should read what follows with a friend beside you who can help you tell the difference.
Our Clever Tactics to Avoid Correction
“I don’t think they’re right.”
This is the only one on the list that deserves to be taken seriously on its own terms, so it goes first. You may be right. The correction may be false. But notice that you do not know that yet. “I don’t think so” is not verification. It is a hunch that’s often supported by your own biased interests.
So instead of rejecting outright, verify. Could any part of it be true? If so, wouldn’t you want to know? Take it to people you trust to tell you uncomfortable things, not the ones who affirm you. Affirmers are cheap and they are everywhere. What you need is one or two friends who love you enough to say, “Yes, that is you, I have watched you do it” or who know you well enough to say, “Nope, that ain’t true.” Then you will better know what to keep and what to throw out and have far more confidence in both than you have right now.
Do that first. Every excuse below only has power if this question stays open.
“Their tone was rude.”
How wise is it to reject something valuable because of how it was handed to us? You would still take the bonus from a boss who gave it to you impolitely. If you were starving, you would still eat the meal the offensive waitress set down. The more valuable the gift, the more willing we ought to be to overlook its delivery.
Yes, a hard word delivered well is easier to hear and the man who corrected you may owe you an apology for how he did it. Take that up with him later. In the moment, your job is to focus on the thing he said. Your question is whether it is true, not whether he was pleasant.
“He’s got his own issues too!”
Maybe so. What do his imperfections have to do with yours? A sick doctor can still hand you medicine that saves your life. He may even have handed it to you because he knows the disease well from his own experience.
His hypocrisy is a real problem and it is his. Yours is still yours.
“Not all of that is true.”
A pound of gold mixed in a bag of rocks is still worth keeping. Throw away the rocks. Keep the gold. If a pound of truth sits inside one hundred pounds of falsehood, has the truth stopped being valuable?
This is the excuse that feels the most reasonable and does a lot of damage because it lets you throw out the one thing you can’t disprove and deeply need. Sorting is work. Dismissing is escape. Unfortunately, we love to run.
“They don’t really care about me.”
They may not. They may actually hate you. What does that have to do with loving yourself enough to improve? A diamond given to you by an enemy is still valuable. Choosing to impoverish yourself won’t hurt him.
Truth does not become false because of who speaks it.
“Acknowledging my shortcomings hurts too much.”
Sometimes it hurts a great deal. So does surgery. But, becoming healthy is worth the pain so we choose the scalpel. Value health over comfort. Value growing over protecting yourself. Take the hard truth now instead of the much harder outcome waiting for you if you keep running from it.
The pain is real. It is also the only door.
Christian, You’ve Already Opened the Hardest Wrapping
This is wisdom every person should value. For the Christian it is ultimate. Our salvation hangs on it:
“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” 1 John 1:9
Confession is correction accepted. It is agreeing with God about what we are. Which means that if we don’t touch the painful wrapping of our sin we miss the treasure of Christ himself. If we will not admit we are sinners, we will never receive a Savior. The very pain we dodge stands between us and the joy of being restored to God.
The Christian life begins with embracing the hardest correction there is. We have all sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Rom. 3:23), the wages of that sin is death (Rom. 6:23), and we cannot fix a bit of it ourselves. That is the first paper we have to tear to receive the gift of the gospel. Shame isn’t the goal, but health is. Jesus said it plainly: “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick” (Luke 5:31). If I don’t embrace the reality of my sin sickness, I’ll never run to Jesus as my Doctor.
The work of admitting our sins does not stop at the cross either. Sanctification is not graduation from correction. The Lord disciplines the ones he loves (Heb. 12:6) and true friends will wound you for your good (Prov. 27:6). Repentance is an everyday activity for even the most seasoned saints. Paul, late in his life and further along than any of us, wrote “Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on” (Phil. 3:12). No Christian has arrived and none of us should act like we have.
Grace is what makes any of this bearable. You are not tearing the paper to find out whether you are acceptable. In Christ you already are and that is exactly why you can afford to open the painful gift and be enriched by it.
Tear the Paper
I understand the reflex to deny, justify, or avoid correction altogether. Criticism never feels good. We want to be good and hearing that we are falling short is painful. But, ask yourself which you want more: to feel good or to be good. Choose the first and you will become skilled at deflection and stop growing. Choose the second and you will go looking for the very thing you have been avoiding.
So go looking. Name the criticism you have been dodging. Listen to the friend who loves you enough to say the hard thing instead of the one who will only tell you that you are fine. Keep the gold, throw out the rocks, and thank the man who handed you the package no matter how badly he wrapped it.
The paper is ugly. What is inside is life.


