Loving Others When It’s Hard

What Jesus taught us about kindness when kindness feels impossible

We all have them. People who rub us the wrong way, whose presence turns conversations awkward, and whose company we’d rather avoid than endure. Sometimes they’re coworkers, other times neighbors, church members, or even family. They can frustrate us with their habits, annoy us with their words, and drain us with their energy. And if we’re honest, we’d prefer a thousand inconveniences to sharing another hour with them.

One friend of mine reached this very limit. Despite his best efforts, a particular man in his life was so consistently irritating condescending, gossip-prone, and oblivious to the effect he had on others that my friend began praying, not for transformation or connection, but for the man to simply “live quietly and mind his own affairs” (1 Thessalonians 4:11). He felt unchristian admitting it, but the truth was undeniable: he didn’t like the man.

And yet, the command of Jesus stands unwavering: Love your neighbor as yourself (Luke 10:27).

The Unavoidable Command

Loving others isn’t just a suggestion for the days when we’re feeling particularly holy or surrounded by people we enjoy. Jesus’s call to love extends to those we would least expect, including the neighbor we’d never choose and the enemy we can’t stand. In fact, the whole point of the command is to teach us to love beyond what comes naturally.

“Even sinners love those who love them,” Jesus said (Luke 6:32). But the true mark of those who belong to Him is a supernatural kind of love a love that transcends personality clashes, emotional fatigue, and social incompatibility.

And the bar gets even higher: “Love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return” (Luke 6:35). No promise of gratitude. No guarantee of change. Just love.

So how do we love when everything in us wants to retreat?

Rooted in Eternal Hope

Paul gave the Colossian believers the answer: they loved "all the saints" not because everyone was easy to get along with but “because of the hope laid up for [them] in heaven” (Colossians 1:5). Their love wasn’t based on chemistry or convenience. It was anchored in eternity.

Paul knew that even among saints, there would be people to “bear with” (Colossians 3:13). Love doesn’t always feel easy or natural sometimes it feels like lifting a heavy weight. But the Colossians didn’t wait for others to become lovable. They acted out of a deeper reservoir: the unshakable hope of what was secured for them in Christ.

In other words, when we struggle to love the person in front of us, we look not at them, but beyond them to heaven. We rehearse our hope, reminding ourselves that our future is fixed, our inheritance guaranteed, and our identity rooted not in the acceptance of others, but in the love of God.

Jesus Modeled It First

Jesus didn’t just preach this kind of love He lived it. In John 13, we find a stunning moment before His crucifixion. As the disciples reclined at supper, Jesus knowing that betrayal, abandonment, and denial were hours away rose from supper, wrapped a towel around His waist, and began to wash their feet.

He didn’t serve them because they deserved it. He served them because He knew who He was and where He was going:

“Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God...” (John 13:3)

That knowledge His secure identity and eternal destiny gave Him the strength to stoop. He didn’t wash their feet by gritting His teeth or forcing His way through resentment. He did it because He was full of the hope of glory.

This is the secret when we are confident in God’s provision, when we’re assured of His goodness and reminded of our reward, we are free to give without needing anything in return.

Christ Died for the Unlikeable

This love wasn’t limited to a towel and basin. Jesus carried it all the way to the cross.

Romans 5:8 reminds us that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” He didn’t wait for us to clean up or become pleasant companions. He loved us when we were rebellious, self-absorbed, and utterly indifferent to Him. He loved the unlovely and gave His life for them.

Isaiah 53:11 tells us that even in His suffering, He saw something that satisfied Him. What was it? The eternal joy of redeeming a people for Himself. He looked past the betrayal, the mockery, and the agony to see the reward a multitude redeemed, beloved, and brought into glory.

We are those people. And now, as recipients of such undeserved love, we are called to extend it to others.

Serving with a Towel and a Smile

Loving the hard-to-love doesn’t mean pretending their quirks or faults don’t exist. It means recognizing that God’s call to love doesn’t depend on their behavior it depends on our obedience.

When we remember that we are eternally loved, permanently secure, and immeasurably blessed in Christ, we are spiritually wealthy. That wealth frees us to “spend” ourselves on people who may never repay us. We can afford the emotional cost of hard relationships, because our treasure is safe in heaven (1 Peter 1:4).

So, how do we love those we don’t like?

We wrap a towel around our waist, and we serve. We bear with. We forgive. We show kindness. We pray for the grace to see them as God does. And we rehearse, again and again, the glorious hope laid up for us in Christ.

The next time you find yourself near someone difficult, remember that love doesn’t wait for affection it moves from assurance. And sometimes, the greatest gospel witness is not in the words we speak, but in the towel we carry.

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