Proverbs 23:9

The book of Proverbs is a collection of practical wisdom — short, sharp observations about how life actually works, written to help people navigate relationships, character, and everyday decisions. When Proverbs uses the word 'fool,' it is not describing someone with low intelligence. The Hebrew word used here (kesil) describes a person who is stubbornly hardened against wisdom — someone who has decided they already know everything they need to know and has no real interest in being corrected or taught. This verse offers a blunt piece of advice: do not share wisdom with this kind of person, because they will not receive it. They will scorn it, mock it, or use it against you. This is less about giving up on people permanently and more about the practical reality that some conversations, in their current form, simply cannot go anywhere good.

God, give me wisdom to know the difference between persistence and futility — and the courage to choose silence when that is the wiser path. Help me steward my words well, speak truth where it can take root, and trust you with the hearts I cannot reach on my own. Amen.

You have been there. You are trying to explain something true — something you actually care about — and you can feel the conversation closing like a fist. The other person is not listening; they are reloading. Every point you offer gets redirected, dismissed, or mocked. You leave the exchange more depleted than when you entered, and nothing moved. Proverbs has a word for the person on the other side of that exchange: a fool. Not unintelligent — just hardened against the very thing you are offering. And the advice is bracingly unsentimental: do not. This is not permission to write people off or to avoid every conversation that carries friction. Wisdom knows the difference between someone who is resistant — who might need more time, more trust, or a different approach — and someone who is genuinely closed. The real challenge this verse presses on is not really about other people at all. It is about you. Do you have the discernment to know when your words are landing — and when you are simply exhausting yourself scratching at a locked door? Silence can be an act of wisdom, not surrender. Knowing when to speak, and when to save your words for soil that can actually receive them, is its own kind of faithfulness.