Loving Difficult People When You Don't Feel Like It

Let's be honest about something most devotionals skip: some people are just hard to love. Not in a theoretical, "we're all sinners" way. In a concrete, they-criticized-you-in-front-of-everyone-at-the-meeting way. In a your-mother-in-law-rearranged-your-kitchen-again way. In a that-church-member-who-has-an-opinion-about-everything way.

You've probably got a face in mind right now. Maybe your stomach tightened a little just thinking about them. Good — keep that person in mind while you read, because loving difficult people isn't about loving humanity in the abstract. It's about that person. And the Bible doesn't pretend it's easy. It just insists it's worth it — and shows you how.

What Does the Bible Say About Loving Difficult People?

Scripture is refreshingly realistic about this. It never says difficult people don't exist or that you'll always feel warm toward them. Instead, it gives you a framework. Start here: "Hatred stirs up conflict, but love covers over all wrongs" (Proverbs 10:12). Notice the two options are hatred and love — there's no third option called "cold politeness" or "strategic avoidance." Hatred, even the quiet kind, actively stirs things up; it rehearses the offense, recruits allies, and keeps the wound open. Love does the opposite — it covers, which means it refuses to amplify.

Peter doubles down: "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins" (1 Peter 4:8). Above all. Peter puts this at the top of the priority list, not the bottom. And "deeply" is a sports word in the original — it means stretched out, extended, like an athlete straining for the finish line. Loving difficult people is supposed to feel like exertion. If it feels easy, you're probably not doing the hard version.

Here's the verse that reframes everything: "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear" (1 John 4:18). A lot of our trouble with difficult people is actually fear — fear of confrontation, fear of being hurt again, fear of looking weak. God's love, working in you, evicts that fear and replaces it with something sturdier: the ability to be kind without being controlled by what they think.

And Romans 13:10 draws the boundary line: "Love does no harm to a neighbor." Love never means accepting harm. You can love a difficult person and still say no, still keep distance, still protect yourself and your family. Boundaries aren't the opposite of love — they're how love stays healthy instead of turning into resentment.

How Do You Actually Love Them? Five Practices That Work

1. Pray for them specifically — and mean it. Not "God, fix them" prayers. Real ones: "God, bless her today. Show me what she's carrying." This is Jesus' own prescription (Matthew 5:44), and it works on you first. It's nearly impossible to pray sincerely for someone every day and keep hating them. The prayer changes the pray-er before it ever changes the other person.

2. Separate the person from the pattern. The difficult behavior is real, but it's not the whole person. Ask the question love always asks: what might be behind this? The critical coworker might be terrified of becoming irrelevant. The harsh relative might never have been shown tenderness. Understanding doesn't excuse — but it does soften, and softened hearts love more easily.

3. Set boundaries without building walls. Here's the difference: a wall says "you're dead to me." A boundary says "I care about you, and here's what I need for this relationship to be healthy." You can decline the weekly dinner that always ends in tears. You can end the phone call when the yelling starts: "I love you, and I'll talk when we're both calm." That's not unloving — that's love with wisdom.

4. Do one small good thing — secretly. Bring them coffee. Compliment something genuine. Remember their kid's recital. Secret matters: it keeps your motive pure and protects you from needing their gratitude. Small, consistent kindness is kryptonite to entrenched conflict.

5. Forgive the debt, even if trust has to be rebuilt. Forgiveness and trust aren't the same thing. Forgiveness is releasing what they owe you — you can do that today, alone, before God. Trust is rebuilt over time through changed behavior — that part is up to them. Don't confuse the two, or you'll either stay bitter (never forgiving) or stay foolish (trusting what hasn't changed).

The Coworker Everyone Dreaded

This is an illustrative story, but anyone who's worked in an office will recognize it. Denise worked with a woman — let's call her Paula — who made every workday heavier. Paula criticized openly, took credit quietly, and had a gift for the kind of comment that sounded innocent and landed like a slap. Denise did what most of us do: she vented to friends, avoided Paula when possible, and rehearsed confrontations in the shower.

Then Denise's pastor preached on loving difficult people, and she felt uncomfortably convicted. She started small: praying for Paula by name each morning (through gritted teeth at first), and one secret kindness a week — a coffee left on Paula's desk, a genuine compliment in a meeting.

Three months in, Paula stayed late one evening and, out of nowhere, started crying. Her mother had advanced dementia, she was the sole caregiver, she hadn't slept through the night in months, and work was the only place she felt in control — so she controlled it with an iron fist. Denise just listened. She didn't excuse the behavior. But for the first time, she saw the person behind the pattern.

Paula didn't transform overnight. But the dynamic did. And Denise told me the strangest part: "I started praying for Paula to change, but somewhere along the way I realized God was mostly changing me. I'm kinder now — to everyone, not just her. Loving the hardest person in my life made me better at loving all the easy ones."

That's the hidden gift in loving difficult people. It never just blesses them. It forges you.

Frequently Asked Questions

Does loving difficult people mean letting them walk all over me?

Absolutely not. "Love does no harm to a neighbor" (Romans 13:10) — and that includes not allowing harm to you. Jesus loved everyone and still walked away from crowds, refused to answer Herod, and flipped tables when the situation called for it. Love is not the absence of boundaries; it's the presence of goodwill within healthy boundaries.

What if the difficult person never changes?

Then you love them anyway — from an appropriate distance if needed. Your obedience isn't contingent on their response. Paul says "as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone" — as far as it depends on you. You control your side of the street. Keep it clean, keep it kind, and leave their transformation to God.

How do I love a difficult family member I can't avoid?

Holidays, weddings, funerals — family is the advanced course. Decide your boundaries before you walk in (how long you'll stay, what topics are off-limits, your exit plan). Pray specifically beforehand. Bring an ally if you need one. And give yourself grace afterward — loving difficult family members is genuinely one of the hardest things humans do.

Is it okay to feel angry at a difficult person?

Yes — anger at injustice or mistreatment is a normal human emotion, and even Jesus felt it. The Bible says "be angry, and do not sin" — feel it, name it, but don't let it drive. What you do with anger matters: nurse it and it becomes bitterness; surrender it to God and it becomes fuel for boundaries, prayer, and eventually peace.

A Final Word

You don't have to feel like loving them. You just have to start — one prayer, one boundary, one small kindness. Loving difficult people was never meant to be natural. It's supernatural, which is exactly why God promises to help you do it. Start with the face that came to mind at the beginning of this article. God's got the rest.