“I’ll be right here if you need me,” I called out to Katie and Hollie after placing my tote bag on an empty bench near the playground they were about to invade. As my daughters raced toward the structure to burn off some energy before dinner, I reached for a book to pass the time. Before opening it, I looked up to get a visual on the girls. Katie and Hollie were doing fine, but one of the moms at the park seemed frazzled as she raced through the playground in a desperate attempt to keep up with her son.

“You need to say ‘excuse me’,” she called out in vain when her child pushed past another preschooler, knocking the girl down in the process.

“I’m so sorry,” the boy’s mother said to the man who stepped in to help his daughter up.

The girl was still getting back on her feet when the mom raced off to save another child from her son’s aggressive behavior. I felt for the woman as she caught her rebel by the shirt, only to have him wriggle free a few seconds later. What parent hasn’t struggled to guide a wayward child—or tame a disrespectful tongue?

I know I have. One example that comes to mind took place during a recent trip to a local restaurant for an afternoon treat.

“May I take your order?” the woman behind the counter asked.

“I’d like three chocolate shakes,” I announced.

The cashier pressed a button on the register as I turned to Katie to ask: “Do you want an order of fries with yours?”

I thought my daughter would be pleased with the idea since she likes to dip them in her ice cream whenever we eat at other fast food restaurants like Culver’s and Runza. Instead, my oldest seemed irritated when she rudely replied: “I hate the fries here. They taste horrible.”

This time, I was the one apologizing for my child’s behavior as everyone in line (and every employee behind the counter) heard what she had said. When I called Katie on her callous comment, my daughter boldly announced that it didn’t matter who heard her because she was telling the truth.

Katie’s words reminded me of the time when Jesus told a crowd of followers that the truth would set them free.[i] I used to think this verse was about easing a guilty conscience. Now, after seeing the problems it can cause in relationships—and restaurants, I have to wonder if there’s more to the definition.

Wanting to find out, I went online to biblegateway.com and searched for verses containing the word ‘truth.’ While scrolling through the 182 results that were found, one phrase stood out as it appeared again and again in Scripture. “I tell you the truth …” Jesus said a total of 78 times in the New Testament. With every occurrence, it became more evident that we don’t decide what the truth is—Jesus does.

God's son spoke the truth during his short time on earth.[ii] After his return to heaven, he sent the Holy Spirit to teach and remind us of everything he had said.[iii] Knowing that the truth is the gospel of Jesus Christ makes me wonder: How many people hide behind their version of it without knowing anything about him?

No one can claim to be telling the truth without measuring their words against the teachings of Christ and the guidance of his Spirit. Jesus confirmed this in John 7:16 when he said: “My teaching is not my own. It comes from him who sent me.”

“If you hold to my teaching,” Jesus added a short while later, “you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”[iv]

These verses confirm that what is true has nothing to do with what we say and everything to do with who we follow. As long as we are looking to Jesus (who is getting his direction from God), we are free to walk without restriction of the law because neither the Father, nor His son will ever ask us to go against it. Jesus assured us of this in a conversation with his disciples where he said: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law of the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.[v]

Sometimes I think we complicate things more than we need to. Following Jesus means loving God and others as we serve, not out of obligation, but in celebration of what Christ did for us on the cross. Katie wasn’t showing much concern for other people that day at the restaurant. She also wasn’t speaking the truth in love, like we are told to do in Ephesians 4:15. This essential ingredient is so important to the conversation equation that I created a rhyme to help my daughters remember to only speak what comes to mind if it’s necessary, true, helpful and kind.

All four of the criteria need to be met if a comment is to escape criticism. Because Katie's did not, the truth that she was defending was about to set her—not free—but up for a lecture. It was a pre-snack sermon that fell on deaf ears as my daughter refused to admit that she had done anything wrong.

Although the bible tells us that God’s law is written on our hearts,[vi] sometimes I think it’s hidden beneath a layer of self-righteousness … and pride. I wanted to show Katie the error of her ways but, without messing with free will, I couldn’t. Experience has taught me that peeling back another person’s layers is God’s job, not mine. When correctly applied, this truth frees all of us to stop trying to change people, and choose to be with them instead.

From where I sat on the park bench, God had a lot of peeling to do after the boy shoved another preschooler off a ladder so he could be the first to climb down. While the mother hung her head in despair, I couldn’t shake the thought that this must be how God feels every time we make poor choices that cause harm to ourselves or others.

If Philip Yancey had been at the playground, he would have confirmed my hunch with this comment about our Creator's character: “God feels delight, and frustration, and anger. He weeps and moans with pain. Again and again God is shocked by the behavior of human beings”.[vii]

Growing up, I did not see God as the concerned parent that Yancey described in his book The Bible Jesus Read. Instead I pictured Him as a disinterested dictator, content to watch me struggle as He ruled judiciously from His throne in heaven.

Author and ministry leader Beth Moore once said that if we only know God as judge, we don’t really know Him at all.[viii] Looking back on my childhood—and all the crazy things I did that went unpunished—I have to agree. I didn’t know Him. If I did, I would have recognized that it was God the Father who shook His head in sorrow as I helped my older brother tie another sibling to the couch in our living room one afternoon when our dad was doing chores and mom was running errands. And it was not God the judge who let me get away with locking my four-year-old brother in a Goodwill box while walking him from our home to a local ice cream shop.