It had to be about nine years ago—almost to the day—when I heard a question in my spirit that told me exactly what my next battle would be.
I’d faced many battles before that. But this one would be the biggest. Honestly, sometimes it feels like it still is.
Nine years ago, I had no idea what I was in for. I only knew I’d been thrown into a painful season I didn’t believe I was ready for—one I never thought would happen to me.
But there I was, in the kitchen of the home I grew up in, pacing the cold tile floor at 5:00 a.m., wondering what my next steps needed to be, but then I heard something deep in my core:
Can you love the unlovable?
That question turned into a poem—almost like it was downloaded into my spirit. And I knew it came from a place that was rooting me on, reminding me I wasn’t alone.
It went a little something like this:
Can you love,
beyond what you see?
Can you love
while trying to see Me?
I dare you to love the unlovable,
not for who he could be,
and despite what you see.
By loving him, you’ll have more of Me.
It sounded nice enough. I responded to the call that I would rise to the occasion.
But it was a fight.
Every day.
Loving the unlovable is not for the faint of heart, and oftentimes during that period, I had wished I had chosen differently.
The Command That Rearranges Everything
Jesus said the greatest commandment is to love God first, and the second is like it: to love others.
He ends with this line: “On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.” (Matthew 22:37–40)
In other words, God’s Word doesn’t treat love as a side topic. It’s the framework. Love God. Love people. Everything else hangs from that.
And that’s where it gets real, because Jesus doesn’t stop at “loving others.” He goes all the way to loving enemies (Matthew 5:43–48).
In plain terms, an enemy isn’t someone who mildly annoys you. It’s someone who opposes you, someone whose bad behavior, accusations, or betrayal puts pressure on your soul.
Love isn’t what makes you feel warm and fuzzy… not real love anyway.
Love Isn’t A Feeling. It’s A Kind of Love You Choose.
Society tries to make love about feelings. As if love is this uncontrollable force that renders us powerless: If I feel it, it must be love.
But if love were only a feeling, it would be fragile—here one moment, gone the next. Feelings change without warning. You can go from adoration to frustration… as anyone with a toddler knows this.
So when Scripture calls us to love difficult people, it sounds impossible until you learn what love actually is and what it is not.
If love isn’t a feeling, then I don’t have to feel anything to do it.
In the simplest terms, love is a set of actions. Love is a verb.
And 1 Corinthians 13 makes that painfully practical: love is patient and kind. It doesn’t boast. It isn’t proud. It doesn’t dishonor others. It isn’t self-seeking. It’s not easily angered. It keeps no record of wrongs. It doesn’t delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It protects, trusts, hopes, and perseveres.
If you have an unlovable person in your life right now, that list can feel like emotional torture. You want to do the opposite.
And here’s the nuance: Scripture doesn’t say you’ll never feel anger. It says, don’t sin in your anger (Ephesians 4:26). There’s a difference between negative emotions and sinful responses.
“Not Easily Angered” Doesn’t Mean “Never Angry.”
I also learned that “not easily angered” (1 Corinthians 13:5) doesn’t mean what it sounds like.
If something hurts you, you may feel angry. That’s human.
But in this context, it’s more like this: being on standby for offense. Looking for a fight. Reacting impulsively. Letting insecurity or ego drive every interaction. That’s being easily angered.
Love looks like restraint. Love pauses.
And yes—sometimes you want to slash someone’s tires. Wanting to isn’t the same as doing it. If you care about doing this the way God calls you to, you don’t let impulse become action.
The “Way Out” Wasn’t About Winning— It Was About Staying Whole
At first, my wilderness season did not have me perfectly acting out 1 Corinthians 13. Not even close.
But because I knew the objective early, God gave me what Scripture promises: a way out of temptation—a way to endure without being consumed (1 Corinthians 10:13).
The “way out” wasn’t so I could win the physical strife I was facing. It was so my soul wouldn’t be swallowed by the world’s natural response.
My perspective shifted.
My driving force in every encounter became less about what was happening to me and more about who I wanted to be when it was over.
That meant patience when I was triggered. Kindness when I wanted to lash out. Processing pain so I could get closure without demanding it from someone who might never give it. And in an age of social media, I had ample opportunity to publicly dishonor, but I didn’t.
That’s not me. That wasn’t who I wanted to become.
You Can’t Love Others Well If You Refuse to Love Yourself
The truth is, you can’t actually love anyone well if you don’t love yourself.
You can see the principle in Ephesians 5:28, where Paul tells husbands to love their wives as they love their own bodies. When a wife isn’t being loved well, it often reveals something broken in how her husband sees himself—maybe not in every area, but somewhere.
When my daughter was younger, I wanted to teach her what love was—especially during the Disney princess era, when romance is packaged as the only thing.
So I used her world.
She loved brownies (still does—girl after my own heart). And I told her: love is knowing there’s only one brownie left in the whole world… and giving it away.
At six years old, her eyes widened—astonished, almost betrayed. And I understood. I mean… brownies.
But she got it: real love is giving something valuable without selfish ambition, without needing your gain.
Love is the response of a healthy heart.
And sometimes God asks us to love when our heart isn’t healthy—like mine wasn’t. But loving with God’s help becomes the antidote. The medicine.
The Training That Changed Me
This is why I believe the Holy Spirit dared me to love someone who felt unlovable—someone who betrayed me and, at the time, even scared me.
God knew that almost a decade later, fear wouldn’t live in those same places. Healing would come faster than it should have. My view of myself would change. And there would be a new strength in me—because I learned to face an enemy and use it as resistance training for my soul.
“For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.” (Hebrews 12:11)
This wasn’t pleasant. It was hard and heartbreaking. It tore at my mind. It lasted longer than I wanted. Some days were easier; some days were brutal.
But day by day—without realizing it—I started doing something I didn’t know I had the power to do:
I stopped aiming to survive.
I started aiming to succeed.
I didn’t want to be bitter; I wanted to be better.
You will deal with difficult people. You will face betrayal. You will have moments where your strong opinion feels justified.
But “unlovable people” do not get to determine your dignity.
And if you don’t feel like you have enough love, remember this: God’s grace is not passive. It empowers. God’s love is stronger than you can imagine—and He is shaping who you become in the process. In my mind, He’s writing the lyrics to the song of the person you’re becoming—because Scripture says God rejoices over us with singing (Zephaniah 3:17)..
Do it God’s way. Do your part. And trust Him with the defense. Because the girl from nine years ago isn’t here anymore.
Just “Be still and know…” (Psalm 46:10)
Becoming Invincible 