You do not start with “prophet.” That word lands like a brick. Most Protestants assume the gift packed up after Revelation and anyone claiming it now is either founding a cult or selling vitamins. So you start smaller.
Ellen White was a nineteenth-century Methodist girl who got hit in the face with a rock, survived a religious panic in 1844, and then spent seventy years telling a tiny, argumentative movement to read its Bible, stop eating like soldiers on furlough, and treat education as if minds mattered. Adventists think the Spirit used her. That is the claim. It is also the part that makes dinner conversations tilt.
What she did not do is invent the Sabbath, the state of the dead, or the second coming. Those came from people with open Bibles and too much time after a failed date. What she did was refuse to let the group collapse into either bitterness or respectability. She wrote constantly. Some of it is luminous. Some of it is dated farm advice wearing a halo. She said her work was a lesser light pointing at a greater one. That sentence is still the cleanest defense available.
You do not ask other Christians to accept the visions. You ask them not to confuse honor with worship. Luther is not Paul. Wesley is not John. White is not either. If her pages push someone back into Scripture instead of away from it, the argument has already done most of its work.
The rest is patience. People change their minds about strange aunts more readily than they change them about prophets. Give them the aunt first.
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