
Have you had that person? That person you should pray for but don’t. That person who more often gets on your nerves than gets in your prayers. You know the one. The coworker who always has a snide comment. The family member who knows exactly how to push your buttons. The person who interrupts every time you speak. The one who makes your eye twitch just by breathing in your direction.
Yeah. That person.
I’ve had them too. And if I’m being honest, I’ve spent more time rehearsing imaginary arguments with them in the shower than I have lifting them up to the Lord. I’ve offered more sarcasm than supplication. More eye rolls than intercession.
I’ve had that kind of day. That kind of interaction. The kind that makes you want to slam a door, not open your Bible. I don’t want to pray—I want to walk away. And honestly? At this point, they’re lucky if I do that.
Because the old me? She had words. She had receipts. She had a whole spiritual gift of sarcasm locked and loaded. But here’s the thing: Jesus didn’t say, “Love your neighbor unless they’re annoying.” He didn’t say, “Pray for those who persecute you—unless they’re passive-aggressive and post vague Facebook statuses about you.” He said pray for them. Period.

“But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” — Matthew 5:44 (ESV)
Not because they deserve it. But because we need it. Because prayer doesn’t just change things—it changes us. So here I am. In the corner. Away from the situation. But praying. Eden Thinking pulls me out of my flesh and into His Spirit. It takes me to grace. To mercy. To the uncomfortable question: What are they going through? Do they even know the Lord? Because how can we expect people to act like Jesus if they don’t know Him? And how will they know Him if we don’t share Him? We share attitudes. We share sarcasm. We share our “I’m right and you’re ridiculous” energy. But Jesus? He shared Himself.
Ooo. I hit below the belt this time. Can you handle it?
That one coworker. That one family member. They don’t need your overcontrol. They don’t need your “I know it all” theology. They need Jesus. And you’re the one holding Him. So show them love. Pray for them. Not because it’s easy. But because it’s holy.
If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Romans 12:18 (NIV)
Helping you find peace in the garden again—one prayer, one pause, one act of love at a time.
Before you rehearse that comeback one more time, let’s pause and reflect.
- Who’s the person I avoid praying for—and why?
- What do I rehearse more: arguments or grace?
- Where is God inviting me to grow in grace?.
- What does forgiveness look like in this moment—not someday, but now?
- What’s one small way I can choose holiness over hostility today?
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