When Grace Feels Impossible

We live in a culture where demonizing those who disagree with us has become a national pastime.  And we can do it in so many ways now, which takes things to a whole new level. 

If you want to see humanity at its worst, all you have to do is scroll through Twitter/X for a few minutes, and you'll want to move to a remote part of Montana where there aren't as many people, and where your internet is spotty.  

I've come to believe that our culture of animosity has bled into our relationships with friends and loved ones, too.  The divisions that exist between us have been widened, and we are finding it harder to love people who choose to highlight those divisions over any other bonds we might have with them.  

If there is going to be any transformation in our fractured society, it is going to have to begin with us.  If we say that we follow Jesus, we need to learn what it means to forgive, to show grace, and to forego the prideful responses our ego is desperate to make.  

Bob Goff once wrote:  

“Sadly, whenever I make my opinions more important than the difficult people God made, I turn the wine back into water.”

What a piercing truth. The miracle of grace—what turns ordinary encounters into holy ones—evaporates the moment we elevate our need to be right over our call to love. Grace, at its core, is not agreement or approval; it’s the conscious decision to honor the image of God in someone who may not make that easy.

We all encounter difficult people—those who drain us, misunderstand us, or even wound us. Sometimes, their toxicity makes closeness impossible. Scripture doesn’t ask us to remain in harmful relationships, but it does call us to extend grace even from a distance. 

Romans 12:18 reminds us, “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” Sometimes, peace means loving someone from afar while refusing to let bitterness take root in our hearts.

When Jesus hung on the cross, he said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34). He extended grace to those who caused his suffering—not because they deserved it, but because that’s what love does. 

Grace doesn’t always change others. Often, it changes us—loosening the grip of resentment and freeing us from the prison of our own righteous indignation.

We may never get the apology we hope for. We may never see the transformation we pray for. But grace allows us to release the heavy weight of control, trusting that God sees, knows, and can redeem even what feels irreparable. Showing grace, even silently, is not weakness; it’s divine strength flowing through human frailty.

So today, hold your opinions—and your anger—more loosely. Let grace do its quiet work. You might not turn their heart, but you can keep your own from turning hard.

Prayer:

God of mercy, help me to love the difficult people in my life as You have loved me—freely, generously, and without condition. Give me wisdom to know when to draw boundaries, and grace to forgive even from afar. Soften my heart where it has grown hard, and let peace take root where resentment once lived. Amen.

Reflection Questions:

1. Who in my life have I been trying to change instead of releasing to God?

2. What might it look like to extend grace to someone without reopening old wounds?

3. How can I practice humility when my opinions feel more important than love?