Have you ever watched someone cling to a false narrative with white‑knuckled certainty, even when the facts are sitting right in front of them?
Once a person decides what they want to be true, they twist reality to protect it. They’ll reinterpret evidence, ignore context, and bend the truth to fit the story they’ve already written.
This isn’t new. It happened to Jesus.
The civic and religious leaders of his day had a fixed picture of who God was and what the Messiah should look like.
Jesus didn’t fit their expectations of reality. He challenged them. He exposed their blind spots and refused to conform to their preconceived ideas.
Instead of reconsidering their assumptions, they hardened their resolve.
They developed a critical spirit so intense that they scrutinized everything Jesus said and did — not to understand him, but to find fault.
When the facts didn’t support their accusations, they simply invented new ones.
The people who killed Jesus were convinced they were defending truth. They were blind.
They were so invested in their version of the messianic narrative that the actual Messiah standing in front of them — God himself — couldn’t convince them otherwise.
Serving in ministry, I’ve seen this same dynamic play out more times than I can count.
One of the most common sources of conflict isn’t malice, but imagination. Someone builds a narrative in their head, and then they start living inside it.
Here’s a real example: a woman once told me, “Jenny keeps glaring at me. I know it’s because I voiced my opinion about her shoes.”
She wasn’t trying to stir up trouble; she was trying to make sense of what bothered her. But the explanation she settled on was pure fiction.
Jenny had just received horrible news about her kids. Her expression had nothing to do with the other woman. Because the narrative felt plausible, it became ‘truth’ in her mind — and caused real damage.
This is not unusual. When facts get tangled up with assumptions, or when fear fills in the gaps, people start imagining worst‑case scenarios and then treating those scenarios as reality.
They run mental simulations, collect evidence that reinforces their bias, and build castles of grievance and fortresses of certainty.
It becomes a self‑justifying feedback loop: I feel this way, so it must be true.
I’ve seen situations deteriorate so badly that when the two parties finally sit down to talk, one of them refuses to listen.
They come into the conversation with a posture of distrust, especially if they’ve lived in their head for a long time.
If anything is said that contradicts the narrative they’ve constructed, they interpret it as deception.
At that point, truth doesn’t stand a chance. And this isn’t limited to personal relationships.
Entire social and political movements — like we’re witnessing today — are built on fear, suspicion, and narratives divorced from reality.
In our polarized society, this has become routine, even in Wyoming.
So what do we do about it?
I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but I do know this: we can’t keep baptizing our biases and calling them truth.
We can’t keep pretending our assumptions are infallible.
Here are a few practices that might help break the cycle — or at least keep us from contributing to it.
1. Give people the benefit of the doubt. Isn’t that how you want people to treat you?
2. Notice when you’re “reading into” a situation your own assumptions.
3. Don’t let your mind default to the darkest interpretation of someone’s intentions.
4. Consider plausible alternative explanations as you sincerely put yourself in other people’s shoes.
5. Do you have all the facts? Ask questions before drawing conclusions.
6. Stick to the facts as they are, not as you want them to be.
7. Consider the possibility—however uncomfortable—that your perspective might be biased, distorted, or even wrong.
8. Be cautious with accusations, especially when you’re frustrated. Sometimes we project onto others what we’re blind to in ourselves.
9. Even when you’re right, it may take time for others to see it. Patience is part of truth‑finding.
10. Some people choose to never be convinced, no matter the truth.
In the end, the call is simple, though not easy: practice humility instead of hubris.
Humility to admit we might not have the full story. Humility to listen. Humility to value truth over being right.
Without that, we end up living in our heads, convinced of our own righteousness while the truth passes us by.
The world has enough people peddling half‑truths and imagined conspiracies.
We don’t need to add to the noise.
Scott Clem can be reached at: ScottClem@live.com
