When I was in elementary school, my friend and I got in a whole lot of ridiculous arguments over the silliest things.
I don’t remember all the topics of our arguments, but I do remember the day we fought over oranges. We didn’t talk for like a week afterward. I’m not even kidding.
We were in fourth grade, and I, like always, had packed my lunch. That day, my mom had packed me a clementine.
My friend probably said something totally non-confrontational and innocent, maybe, “I like mandarin oranges.”
But nine-year-old me just had to correct her. “This isn’t a mandarin orange. It’s a clementine.”
“No, that’s definitely a mandarin orange. I’ve had them before.”
“It’s a clementine. I’m telling you, I’ve seen the label on the box. It’s not a mandarin orange. Those are the smaller ones that come in the fruit cups.”
My friend shook her head. We locked eyes. Maybe some people could agree to disagree and move on, but not the two of us. We kept arguing, and then we stopped talking altogether. We were both being unreasonable, but we were unwilling to admit defeat, or even to just let it go. We were stubborn.
After about a week of not talking, we made up and could be best friends again. And for the record, a clementine is actually a hybrid between a willowleaf mandarin orange and a sweet orange—so both of us were a little right, and a little wrong. That’s probably the way most of our arguments turned out. Rarely was one of us completely right and the other completely wrong.
The point is, my friend and I wasted a week of fourth grade fighting over oranges—all because we were stubborn.
Google’s definition of stubborn sums it up well: stubbornness is “having or showing dogged determination not to change one’s attitude or position on something, especially in spite of good arguments or reasons to do so.”
We were determined not to change our positions in the argument—even though we were both presented with good reasons to do so. We were hurting our friendship.
This example might be a little silly, but my soul can still be so stubborn. And I’m wondering, how often do I allow my stubbornness to cause me pain? How often do we let our stubbornness hurt us?
When we dig into the reality of our lives, some of us might find that stubbornness has held its ground since our juvenile arguments.
Our history as children of God is tarnished with the stubbornness of our broken flesh.
Think of the Israelites. God showed Himself to them again and again as He led them out of slavery and into the promised land. He parted the sea so they could walk through it unharmed. He made bitter waters sweet again. He rained manna and quail down from heaven. He brought water out of a rock. And the list goes on.
But the Israelites were stubborn. They continued to whine and disobey God. They didn’t trust. They showed a determination to trust in what they could see instead of who they could not see, in spite of all the evidence they’d witnessed of God’s presence.
Consider the passionate words of God in Psalm 81:11-14: “But my people would not listen to me; Israel would not submit to me. So I gave them over to their stubborn hearts to follow their own devices. If my people would only listen to me, if Israel would only follow my ways, how quickly I would subdue their being enemies and turn my hand against their foes!”
God is great, and He wants (and, rightfully so, demands) our respect and our worship. But those Israelites were often misguided by their stubbornness—just like us.
Our stubborn hearts can lead us to trust in the tangible work of our hands rather than the eternal but often invisible work of God.
And, of course, our stubbornness can get us in other kinds of trouble too. It can get us to turn down the help we need because we’re too prideful to admit we can’t do something on our own. It can cause rifts in families and friendships. It can leave us stuck in silly arguments.
Left unchecked, stubbornness can take out relationships, destroy our ability to care for ourselves, and hinder our desire to worship.
It’s possible to be independent and determined without being stubborn. It’s possible to feel strongly convicted about an issue without letting stubbornness cause unnecessary tension. It’s possible to have a conversation without completely handing over the reins to stubbornness.
I don’t want to be so stubborn that I can’t ask for help. I don’t want to be so stubborn that I don’t allow people to speak wisdom into my life. I don’t want to be so stubborn that I’m blinded to the world outside of my own abilities.
And, I don’t want to be so stubborn that I nearly ruin a friendship over clementines (or mandarin oranges).
Let’s ask God to soften our stubborn hearts today.
And never forget… you are onederfully created.
Love,
Becca
