Imagine that someone you care about calls you after a painful disagreement. They explain what happened, what was said, and why they were hurt. Their account seems reasonable, and by the end of the conversation, you feel certain that you understand the situation.
Later, you speak with the other person, and the story sounds entirely different. The facts are the same, but each person explains what happened in a different way. Words that seemed intentionally cruel in the first account are described as misunderstood in the second. What first sounded selfish now has an explanation you had not considered. Both people sound sincere, and both are convinced that they are telling you what really happened.
Whom do you believe? Do you trust the person you have known the longest, the one who speaks with the greatest emotion, or the one whose experience most closely resembles your own? Are you carefully weighing what happened, or are you naturally leaning toward the account that feels most believable to you?
We face situations like this more often than we realize. They arise in families, friendships, fellowships, and workplaces. We listen to different accounts, interpret motives, and form conclusions, often without possessing all the facts. The side we understand most easily may not be the side that is telling the whole truth.
Scripture records a striking occasion when King Solomon was required to judge between two women with contradictory accounts. They lived in the same house and had each given birth to a son. One child died during the night, and both women claimed that the surviving child belonged to her. One insisted that the other woman had exchanged the babies while she slept. The other denied it. There were no witnesses and no outward evidence that could easily settle the matter.
Both women spoke with certainty, but their accounts could not both be true. Solomon could not simply choose the woman whose story sounded more persuasive or whose emotion appeared more convincing. His decision would determine who received the living child. Before he could make a right judgment, he had to discover the truth.
Solomon called for a sword and ordered that the living child be divided between them. The child’s true mother immediately pleaded with the king to give the baby to the other woman rather than kill him. The other woman agreed that the child should be divided. Their responses revealed what their words had concealed. Solomon then gave the child to the woman who was willing to surrender him so that he might live, recognizing that she was his mother.
The people of Israel marveled at Solomon’s judgment because they recognized that the wisdom of God was in him. He had been presented with two accounts, two confident voices, and no obvious way to determine which one was true. He needed wisdom from God to expose what was hidden and reach a just conclusion.
Solomon’s judgment shows how quickly the question becomes personal. People can speak with confidence and still be wrong. Evidence can appear convincing and still be incomplete. Motives can be hidden. Sincerity can be genuine while understanding remains limited. The truth of a matter is not always found on the surface.
Scripture gives other records that teach the same lesson. Joshua and the leaders of Israel were deceived by the Gibeonites because the evidence placed before them looked convincing, yet they “asked not counsel at the mouth of the LORD” (Joshua 9:14). Samuel looked upon Eliab and thought he must be the LORD’s anointed, but God reminded him that “man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7). David concealed his sin with Bathsheba and Uriah, but God sent Nathan to bring the truth into the light. Ananias and Sapphira presented an outward image of devotion, but God saw the deceit behind it.
The same difficulty appears on a much larger scale every day. We are surrounded by headlines, interviews, social-media posts, expert opinions, statistics, and carefully selected video clips, all claiming to show us what is really happening. One source presents something as an established fact, while another presents the opposite conclusion with equal confidence. Each side supplies evidence. Each tells a persuasive story. Each insists that those who disagree have been misled.
So how do we decide what is true?
Most people do not choose what to believe by evidence alone. We are often drawn toward the account that feels familiar, supports the people we trust, confirms what we already suspected, or stirs our emotions most deeply. If a story sounds like something we have experienced, it can feel true before we have examined it carefully. If it agrees with what we already believe, we may accept it without question. Yet the side we relate to most is not always the side that is true.
That is why the question, “Who decides what is true?” reaches into every part of life. We answer it when we judge a disagreement, repeat a story, assign motives, or decide which voices deserve our trust. The issue is not only whether truth exists. It is whether we are humble enough to seek God’s wisdom when our own understanding is not enough.
Yet the question reaches beyond any single disagreement, circumstance, or human testimony. Is there a voice that sees beyond personal experience, emotional reaction, outward appearance, and incomplete evidence? Is there a source that knows every fact, understands every motive, and sees the entire matter without distortion?
Jesus answered that question when he prayed to his Father, “Your word is truth” (John 17:17).
Those few words give us something solid beneath our feet. Jesus did not say that God’s Word was one helpful perspective among many or that it became true when people accepted it. God’s Word is truth because it comes from the One who created us, understands us completely, and sees what none of us can see on our own.
This does not mean the Bible supplies every detail about every situation we face. It does not tell us which person is being honest in every disagreement, which report contains all the facts, or what motives may be hidden. Yet it does give us the standard by which our hearts, judgments, and responses must be measured. It teaches us to seek God, refuse partiality, avoid hasty judgment, and remember that what appears obvious to us may still be incomplete.
God is not limited by our experiences or clouded by our emotions. He does not misunderstand motives, overlook important details, or reach conclusions without knowing the whole story. His truth does not change with public opinion or the values of a particular generation. What He has spoken remains trustworthy whether it is welcomed, ignored, or rejected.
The struggle over whose voice will have the final authority is not new. It reaches back to the Garden of Eden. God had clearly told Adam not to eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. The Adversary then approached Eve and asked, “Has God really said, ‘You must not eat from any tree of the garden?’” (Genesis 3:1).
He was not merely asking for information. He was inviting Eve to question whether God’s Word deserved her complete trust. Once uncertainty had been introduced, he contradicted what God had said and suggested that God was withholding something beneficial from her.
The temptation was not simply to eat forbidden fruit. Adam and Eve were being enticed to step out from beneath God’s authority and determine for themselves what was good and evil. Instead of allowing God’s Word to govern their decision, they placed His Word beneath their own judgment. The issue was no longer what God had said, but what seemed right to them.
That same temptation still appears whenever we begin with what we want to believe and then look for a way to make Scripture support it. We accept the parts of God’s Word that agree with us while explaining away the parts that confront us.
It is not difficult to believe the Bible when it confirms what we already think. The difficulty comes when it corrects something we do not want to surrender. Perhaps God’s Word tells us to forgive someone whose actions still anger us. It may expose pride in a conviction we have defended for years, challenge the way we speak to our spouse, or correct an attitude toward someone who has disappointed us. It may reveal that what we have called discernment is really suspicion, or that what we have defended as righteous anger has become bitterness. In those moments, we find out whether God’s Word is truly governing us, or whether we are still defending ourselves.
Scripture explains plainly why we need correction: “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). None of us sees everything perfectly. Sin has affected the human heart and mind, leaving every person capable of self-deception. We can recognize weakness in others while overlooking the same weakness in ourselves. We can judge another person’s motives harshly while giving our own motives the benefit of every doubt.
Hebrews describes God’s Word in deeply personal terms: “For the word of God is living and active … and is able to judge the considerations and intentions of the heart” (Hebrews 4:12). God’s Word does not merely judge the ideas circulating in the world. It judges the thoughts and intentions within us. Scripture judges us; we do not judge Scripture.
This is also why walking by the spirit is so vital. God has not given us His written Word and then left us to navigate life by human ability alone. He has given holy spirit to His children so that we can receive wisdom, direction, and understanding from Him. There are times when the facts before us are incomplete, motives are hidden, and the situation cannot be rightly understood by outward appearance alone. In such moments, we must pause, seek God, and allow Him to help us see clearly, speak wisely, and respond rightly.
The authority of Scripture does not lead us only to correction; it also leads us to grace. God’s Word tells us the truth about our sin, but it also reveals what God has done to save us from it through His Son, Jesus Christ. We stand before Him, not because we have always understood everything correctly or lived without failure, but because of His mercy. Remembering that should soften the way we treat others. If knowing the truth makes us arrogant, cruel, or eager to condemn, then that truth has not yet reached deeply enough into our own hearts.
The real test of whether we believe the Bible is true often comes when it tells us that we are wrong. It is possible to defend Scripture publicly while resisting it privately. We may speak boldly about the authority of the Bible and still refuse to forgive, receive correction, admit failure, or change direction. We do not honor Scripture merely by arguing that it is true. We honor Scripture by submitting our lives to it.
Sometimes the most honest prayer we can offer is simple: “Father, help me see what I am not seeing. Show me where my feelings, pride, loyalty, or past experiences have distorted my judgment. Give me the humility to accept what Your Word says, and help me walk by the spirit so that I may respond wisely and lovingly.”
We do not decide what is true. God has spoken. Our responsibility is to listen with humility, examine our hearts honestly, seek His wisdom, and allow His truth to shape the way we think, speak, judge, and live.
The safest place we can ever stand is not in the approval of the world, the confidence of our own perspective, or the side of a story that feels most familiar to us. The safest place we can ever stand is in humble submission to the truth God has revealed.
May our lives agree with His Word,
