Learning to Love God’s People

A Reflection from a Pastor’s Wife
​by Gena McCray

When my husband first became a pastor, I entered the ministry with high hopes. I truly believed that because we were stepping into a life of serving God’s people, we would find ourselves surrounded by kindness, generosity, forgiveness, and love. After all, these were God’s people.

Imagine my surprise when I encountered something quite different.

Don’t get me wrong—there were many who absolutely fit that description. But I wasn’t prepared for how much church life, at times, mirrored the brokenness I had already experienced in the secular workplace. My expectations were so high that when they weren’t met, I began to spiral into frustration, anxiety, and even bitterness.

And it was my own bitterness that shocked me the most.

I saw myself pulling away from people, avoiding them, not praying for them, and—even worse—wishing they would just go away. That was the moment I knew something was wrong. God’s Word warns us clearly: “See to it… that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many” (Hebrews 12:15). Bitterness doesn’t just poison our relationships—it poisons our own hearts. And I had let it take root.

But the real problem wasn’t them. It was me.

I hadn’t yet learned how to love God’s people the way God commands us to love--unconditionally. I had expected love, but I wasn’t extending it. I had expected grace, but I wasn’t offering it. I had hoped for understanding, but I wasn’t giving any in return.

Scripture doesn’t leave much room for negotiation on this:
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another” (John 13:34).
And again in 1 Corinthians 13, Paul reminds us that we can do everything right externally—even serve in ministry—but if we do not have love, “we are nothing” (1 Corinthians 13:2).

So how do we love people who sometimes act in unloving ways?

We pray.

Yes, I know that sounds like the go-to Christian answer—but it’s true. We simply cannot love others, especially when they hurt us, without the power of the Holy Spirit. “God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us” (Romans 5:5). Loving difficult people isn’t just hard—it’s impossible without God’s help.

And we forgive.

Jesus didn’t suggest forgiveness—He commanded it: “Forgive as the Lord forgave you” (Colossians 3:13). Forgiveness doesn’t mean pretending the hurt never happened. It means choosing to let go of the offense and entrusting it to God. Forgiveness is not always a feeling; sometimes it’s an act of obedience we carry out in faith.

As a pastor’s wife, I’ve also learned that people sometimes have unrealistic expectations of me. They forget that I’m human too. I struggle. I sin. I get tired. And when I fail, I’ve had to learn not to cover it up in shame, but to humbly ask for forgiveness. “Confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed” (James 5:16). Grace must flow both ways.

Here’s the key that has changed everything for me:
God’s people are a work in progress—just like I am. None of us have arrived. We all desperately need the grace of Jesus. And when I remember that, I begin to see them not through the lens of their failures, but through the eyes of Christ.

They are made in the image of God. Jesus loved them so much He died for them (Romans 5:8). They are worth the love, effort, and forgiveness. The moments when they fall short are just that--moments. It is not who they are.

So when you find yourself hurt by God’s people, stop and pray. Ask the Lord to help you love them the way He does. And as you pray and love and forgive, something beautiful happens: you begin to see them differently. You begin to love them genuinely. And through that love, God brings healing to your heart, to your relationships, and to your church.