With permission from my new friend Caroline, I want to tell you a story that came out of my “Hey, MAGA friends, do you have a minute?” post that I shared here on my blog as “Why I Feel Betrayed.” By Sunday, I had completely lost control of the comment section, but some of the newest comments were saying how impressed they were with the level of civility and open dialogue, so I assured myself it was still okay. I went about my life, including a trip to the hospital to talk about my next surgery, and how it needs to wait until my next scans to make sure I’m still clear of the cancer I’m being treated for (I offer this as explanation for my own raw emotional state).

As we were leaving the hospital, I pulled up my phone and did something I honestly rarely do on my phone anymore–I opened my Messenger app. And I saw a message waiting in the “pending” file, the ones from people not already on my friends list. There had been a lot of these that weekend, mostly from international people who had no idea how I popped up in their feed and didn’t feel they had a right to weigh in on a post directed to a particular group of people, but who wanted to thank me for opening a non-shouting conversation, and that from their point of view, it was the first hope they’d had in a long time that America might get through this.

Honestly, I was expecting more of the same. But instead, I opened up this message from Caroline, and I saw this (again, shared with her permission, using only her first name):

Caroline

Roseanna, I am so sorry I responded to your question on Facebook. But even more I am so disappointed. Your post incited online bullying and I am saddened that I took your bait and fell for it. I have deleted my reply to your post and blocked those that I needed to. You crossed a line…in your own words you said never discuss politics on Facebook and for some reason you decided it was ok. You know that because of your profession, you have a large audience and so I wonder what did you expect you were going to accomplish? Anyway, I wish you the best.

Now, let me tell you a bit about me. I don’t mind when people disagree with my ideas–I know how often I shift and refine them and come to new understandings of complex things, so why in the world should anyone else agree with what I myself might not in the future? But I feel it like an arrow to the heart when someone questions my motives, so this cut. It didn’t make me angry, it HURT. Because someone was hurt, and they perceived it as my fault, and what if it WAS my fault?

As I began frantically composing a response ON MY PHONE (which I hate to do, LOL. Give me a computer keyboard any day!) my husband asked, “What’s wrong?” Because he knows me, LOL. So I told him and, seeking to comfort me, he said, “Don’t worry about it, honey. It’s probably just a troll.”

I didn’t think it was. But even if it had been, I’d rather respond kindly to a troll or a bot than risk letting a real grieving heart go unanswered. So I replied:

Roseanna

Oh Caroline, I am so sorry you were bullied! Did I say something that hurt you or was it others? (I’m trying to keep track but have been overwhelmed). If it was me who said something that hurt you, I am truly sorry. I am trying to see each point of view, understand it, offer my own perspective, but always affirm that your perspective is valid and valuable. If others in the content section attacked, then I’m so sorry that wasn’t checked. There are still hundreds of comments I haven’t seen yet, and I’ve been praying they’ve remained respectful.

Caroline replied to let me know that it wasn’t me, it was others. I apologized again and asked her if she would feel comfortable sharing her thoughts there privately with me–because I’ve found that the ones who garner attack are the ones I really need to understand. She was gracious enough to do so…and I admit, I was baffled as to why anyone had bullied her for them. Did we agree on everything? No. But we’d very clearly started from the same place, and she represented one of the more moderate views I’d seen that weekend.

Long story short, we ended up talking back and forth about how hard it is to know what “good” to prioritize, what “bad” to prioritize against, when they are in conflict. How we’re all just muddling our way through a very imperfect system.

I thanked her for trusting me with her view after she’d been hurt in my comment section. She thanked me for being willing to listen and apologize. We fell silent for a while with peace between us.

And then Caroline truly proved her Christ-seeking heart when she reached out again to apologize for blaming me for what others had said, for assuming bad motives on my part. She asked my forgiveness. And I gave it in a heartbeat, acknowledging that sure, she made an assumption about me–but that the moment she reached out to me with it instead of letting it fester, she’d done exactly the thing Jesus instructs us to do, and I was so grateful. I apologized again that she was hurt on my watch.

And we ended that day both calling it such a blessing. We’ve chatted each day since. We now count each other a new friend and are getting each other’s takes on unrelated things.

Do we still have those points of disagreement? Absolutely! And that’s OKAY. We can still be friends. We can still talk…and now we know we can talk about the hard things, and we can help each other understand them better.

This is what communication is supposed to do, friends. Not create click-bait or fan the flames of outrage. We can disagree with something without calling people names.

I’m so grateful Caroline reached out. I’m so grateful she forgave me and asked my forgiveness in turn. I’m so grateful that we gained a friend that day instead of falling into resentment over disagreements.

And I pray we can all do more of this. Less shouting, more talking. That we can deliberately seek reconciliation instead of outrage. That we can prioritize loving our neighbor over winning an argument. Caroline gives me hope that we can.

I’ve had several people ask, either privately or in a comment on my posts lately, a very kind version of “What are you thinking, crazy lady? You’ve got enough going on, fighting cancer. Why are you deciding to talk politics now??”

And they have a point, LOL. (And no one put it that way, I’m being tongue-and-cheek and funny…)

But also…this, too, is important, and I’d like to explain.

I already talked about the year-long journey I’ve been on, and how a year ago, I was just angry and wanted to hold people accountable. How now, I want to understand and heal. Not to talk politics, but to talk about real issues, hard topics that matter. In that “A Time to Speak” post, there was one thing I didn’t go into on this journey.

October 2025.

If you’ve been following me for long, then you know that in 2024, I battled breast cancer. The fight took me into 2025, when I completed radiation treatments in January and then my “blocker” treatments in May. In July, I had my final reconstruction surgery after my bilateral mastectomy. I thought I was done. I thought I’d won.

Then came October, when a brain MRI for an unrelated pituitary issue revealed a tumor in my brain, in the right cerebellum. I know I’ve talked both here and on social media about how hard it hit, and my journey through that. But there are some things I didn’t get into, largely because they were too painful for my family.

I’m going to talk about them now because they are a big part of this.

In those two weeks between the discovery of the tumor and when we had definitive test results, my doctors were sure–SURE–I was in Stage 4 cancer. They were sure it was in my lymph nodes and all through my body. They were sure that palliative care was going to be my fate. They assured me they could keep the cancer in check and still give me years (probably), but let me try to put words to what was going on in my heart and mind.

In those two weeks, I was staring death in the face. Maybe not an immediate death–but that didn’t make it better. I was asking myself, “What if I only have two years left? Or five? Or even ten? What if I don’t get to see my kids get married? What if I spend those years sick and miserable? What if I can’t write the books God’s laid on my heart? What if this is the thing that kills me, and it happens soon?”

Even thinking these questions now makes me cry, guys. Because it’s no less present, just because the scans are clear. It’s no less a real question for me. And it comes with more questions too.

“What really matters?”

During those two weeks, I’ll be honest. I couldn’t read the news. I just…couldn’t. And it wasn’t because I didn’t care about the events or think they mattered. It was because I couldn’t handle the hatred I saw. Every time I glimpsed something, I just wanted to cry, “Don’t you understand? Don’t you understand that you are wasting time on hatred that could be spent on love? On tearing down instead of building up? Why? Why are you spending your precious minutes and hours and days and weeks and months on this? Don’t you see what a tragic waste that is?”

Because when you realize how finite your life is…you are keenly aware of how you’re spending it.

I’ve always given a lot to my legacy, to what I want to be remembered for. When I talk to authors about time management and marketing, that is in fact one of the things I invite them to consider as one of the guiding factors to how they prioritize their time and what governs their outreach.

I want to be remembered as someone who loves, not someone who hates.

I want to be remembered as someone who builds, not someone who tears down.

I want to be remembered as someone who listens, not someone who shouts.

I want to be remembered as someone who uses stories to speak Christ to hurting hearts, not to profit.

I want to be remembered as someone who focuses on others, not just herself.

And as I faced the very real possibility of a short life before me, I realized something else. It’s not enough to just not do the negatives. I have to actively do the positives. Because love isn’t the absence of hate–it’s something more than that, something that requires me to do, to act, to live it out. Similarly, building isn’t just the lack of tearing down. Listening isn’t just the lack of shouting. Not being greedy doesn’t mean working for Christ. And not focusing solely on me doesn’t mean I’m focusing on you.

It isn’t enough to not do. We have to do as well.

As someone who haaaaaaaates conflict (I literally feel sick to my stomach whenever conflict arises, and sometimes migraines even follow), it’s easy for me to just keep my head down. Simpler. 

But this is only peacekeeping. And Jesus didn’t say the “peacekeepers” were blessed. He said the peacemakers were. 

Making is also an action. This is something I’ve written about before, in a post called “Peace: Keeping or Making?” in which I observe the following:

We’re called to CREATE that soul-deep, “all is well” peace. We’re called to create it with love, with faith, with sacrifice, and with hope. Not with lies, compromises, insults, and division.

The peace of Christ is when you would rather die than deny Him–and rather be killed than kill.
The peace of Christ is when you help those who hurt you.
The peace of Christ is when you love the unlovable.
The peace of Christ is when you welcome the outcast, not cast out the one who has offended you.
The peace of Christ is when you greet an insult with a compliment.
The peace of Christ is when you seek to understand rather than to be understood.
The peace of Christ is when you answer a demand with a gift.

And do you know what happens when we do that? Jesus tells us, right there in the Sermon on the Mount.

We are called sons of God.
Heirs of the Kingdom of God.
Brothers and sisters of Christ.
We are given authority in Heaven and on Earth.
We are made like Him.

Peace, my friends, is something not just to seek, not just to preserve, but to make. It’s an active practice. And it doesn’t rely on pleasing people–it relies 100% on pleasing God by our interactions with them. On remembering that He loves them every bit as much as He loves us. And on treating them like they, too, are a son or daughter of God.

That ought to change everything.

So why am I tackling this now, in a year when I’m getting more chemo infusions (I really want to call these “blocker” treatments too, but the fact is that my team calls them chemo. Not full chemo. But they’re chemo.)? In a year when I’ve been promised I’ll be exhausted? In a year when I already have too much on my plate, given that?

Because this is the time I have. This is the time God stirred my heart to speak. This is the time the world is hurting for these conversations so, so much. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. I don’t know where the world will be in a year, when I’m (hopefully and prayerfully) better again. I don’t know if I have another day or another century left on this earth (how’s that last part for optimism?).

But I have now. And so now is the time I will use for the most important things.

The stories He gives me. The people He gives me. The opportunities He gives me.

I will obey, and I will trust Him to provide where I lack. Maybe nothing will come of it. Maybe it’ll take off and I’ll have to bow out. Maybe it’ll just be me talking into what feels like empty space.

Or maybe it will take a cancer patient doing the work to convict other people to do it too. I don’t know. 

I just know that I don’t want to be remembered as someone who was silent when God asked her to speak. I don’t want my legacy to be burying my head, just like I don’t want it to be shouting at people. I want it to be modeling a better way. Showing my children that we can still engage with people, whether we agree with them or not. We can still love. And we can also exhort–from that place of love. We can seek to learn and pray that others will continue to do the same.

We can do better. But it starts with each of us. And when I stand before God–whether that’s soon or not–I want to be able to say, “I obeyed. I loved. I built. I served.”

Why now? Because I am so keenly aware that we’re never guaranteed “later.” And I don’t want to waste whatever time I have giving anything less than my whole heart to the world.

A few years ago, when my son was beginning high school and we were debating what electives he should take, I did something dangerous.

I bought a Logic curriculum for him. I knew that Rowyn already valued logical arguments–I hear him regularly chatting on Discord with his gamer friends, so I knew he took perhaps too much joy in dismantling their statements when they didn’t satisfy his logical mind, LOL. So I figured, let’s make sure he’s doing it right.

Feeding the beast? Well, maybe. 😉 But as the textbook arrived and I was flipping through it, I realized that my own education in spotting logical fallacies is sorely lacking. My husband is better at it, but me? Not so much. I had no idea what the names were for those things that frustrated me in conversation, or why sometimes something felt “off” in a response, or manipulative, but I didn’t know why.

And of course, as I learned a bit more about these fallacies, I also learned where I tend to fall into them as well. Sigh. Don’t you just hate it when you set out to learn why others are wrong and instead learn where you are? 😉 

Given how many of these I see in my own social media feed every single day, I figure either I’m not the only one who doesn’t just “get” these things intuitively…or people are doing it deliberately. Because I’m always a “give them the benefit of the doubt” kind of person, I’m assuming the first. And so…maybe you could benefit from this list too. And I know I need it!

Please note that I am using examples from BOTH sides of the political aisle; sometimes examples I’ve seen from both are provided for the same Fallacy; sometimes I alternate and will use a Conservative statement in one and the a Liberal statement in the next. Sometimes just general examples that easily apply to both. Cuz we all do these, friends!)

(This list is based on one from Grammarly, with a couple extra thrown in. They all have my take on them and, where it didn’t require too much time spent digging on my part, examples from my own social media feed.)

1. Ad Hominem

Tell: Attacking the person instead of the argument.
Example: “You’re wrong because you’re just a [label],” instead of addressing the actual claim.
Why it’s wrong: The truth of a position doesn’t depend on who says it.

2. Red Herring

Tell: Distracting from the argument by bringing up something irrelevant to the current discussion.
Example: “I think parents should have more say about school curriculum” is answered with “If Conservatives really cared about kids, they’d want to talk about gun violence in schools.”
Why it’s wrong: It sidetracks the discussion with a separate topic instead of engaging the actual issue being discussed.

3. Straw Man

Tell: Misrepresenting someone’s argument to make it easier to attack.
Example: “Schools should admit systemic racism as part of history” is met with “You want to teach kids to hate America.”
Why it’s wrong: It argues against something they didn’t actually say. Thing to remember: if you have to exaggerate someone’s argument in order to defeat it, then you haven’t defeated it.

4. Equivocation

Tell: Using a word in different ways to mislead.
Example: “Freedom” is a common one where meanings get misinterpreted in the conversation. Examples from both sides: “Freedom means people should be free to live without discrimination” is met with “Freedom doesn’t meant freedom from consequences.” Or “This government mandate on gun control overreaches individual freedom” is met with “I think our kids should have freedom to live safely.”
Why it’s wrong: The word shifts in meaning mid-argument.

5. Slippery Slope

Tell: Predicting extreme outcomes without evidence.
Example: “If we don’t deport everyone, next thing you know borders won’t exist” or “If we allow this speaker on our campus, the next stop is fascism.”
Why it’s wrong: It assumes progression without causal proof.

6. Hasty Generalization

Tell: Jumping to a broad conclusion from too little evidence.
Example: “There are three examples of this people group committing crimes, therefore they’re all criminals.”
Why it’s wrong: Too small a sample to justify the conclusion.

7. Appeal to Authority

Tell: Claiming something is true just because an authority said it.
Example: “A famous person said it — so it must be true.”
Why it’s wrong: Authorities can be wrong or irrelevant.

8. False Dilemma / False Dichotomy

Tell: Presenting only two options when more exist.
Example: “Either we deport everyone or let rapists stay” or “If we don’t ban guns our kids will be gunned down in schools.”
Why it’s wrong: It ignores the real range of possibilities.

9. Bandwagon Fallacy

Tell: Saying something is true or right because “everyone believes it.”
Example: “Everyone thinks X, so X must be true.”
Why it’s wrong: Popularity ≠ truth.

10. Appeal to Ignorance

Tell: Claiming something is true because it hasn’t been proven false (or vice versa).
Example: “This regulation won’t help the economy” is met with “You don’t know it won’t, so let’s pass it.”
Why it’s wrong: Lack of evidence isn’t proof.

11. Circular Argument

Tell: Using the conclusion as the premise — no real support.
Example: “He was justified because he had to do it,” without independent evidence.
Why it’s wrong: It goes in a loop instead of reasoning.

12. Sunk Cost Fallacy

Tell: Staying committed just because you’ve invested time/effort.
Example: “I’ve already argued this position for years; changing now would be admitting defeat.”
Why it’s wrong: Past investment doesn’t justify continuing.

13. Appeal to Pity

Tell: Using emotional sympathy instead of logic.
Example: “You must agree because it’s heartbreaking.”
Why it’s wrong: Pathos can highlight stakes but not prove a point.

14. Causal Fallacy

Tell: Assuming causation just because of correlation or timing.
Example: “When X happened, Y happened, so X must have caused Y.”
Why it’s wrong: Correlation ≠ causation.

15. Appeal to Hypocrisy/Whataboutism (Tu Quoque and Tu Quoque Adjacent)

Tell: Dismissing someone’s argument by calling out hypocrisy.
Example: “You criticize this policy but your side did the same.”
Why it’s wrong: Hypocrisy doesn’t make the original argument incorrect.

16. Poisoning the Well

Tell: Using a preemptive move that makes further discussion socially unacceptable
Example: “If you agree with that, you’re not a Christian.”
Why it’s wrong: It admits no nuance in an issue and assumes that there is only one issue that defines “good.” It stops discussion rather than engaging with it.