I was 37 and I was right. I let him know I was right. About 10 different ways. Went to seminary, ya know. Said them pretty eloquently if I say so myself. Case closed.
Not so fast, sonny (okay, they did not call me that but I know they were thinking it.) You can be right and sensitive at the same time. You need to apologize. His wrong did not excuse yours.
Somehow, I guessed that being right exempted me from being sensitive. I don't know why I thought this. I never saw Jesus do it. I drove over and apologized. No "but's." Just an apology.
Guess what? We talked. Turns out he had a fear that he was nursing. The fear was real and could be addressed. Together, we addressed it.
I am older now. Wiser, I'd like to think. Wisdom seems to arise out of pain more than pleasure. May I never be righteously right again. How bout you?