Among the beautiful attributes of love Paul lists in 1 Corinthians 13 is this: “Love bears all things.” No one embodied that quality more fully than Christ, who “bore our sins in His body on the tree” (1 Peter 2:24). And even now, He continues to bear us. Just as the high priest once carried the names of Israel’s tribes into the Most Holy Place, our great Mediator carries our names before the throne of God. Because His love bears all things, we can cast every care on Him and lean on Him for strength.

But what does this mean for us in daily life? How do we reconcile Paul’s words with the reality of broken relationships and difficult people?

Consider the spouse who walks away, saying they can no longer bear the pain of a fractured marriage. Or the church member who decides they can no longer bear the presence of someone who hurt them. Or the believer who declares they simply cannot bear the co-worker who constantly irritates them. Where is the love that bears all things?

Has Paul given us an impossible ideal—something to admire but not actually live? Are we free to walk away when love becomes inconvenient? Can we justify withdrawing because someone else has become “unlovable”?

Sometimes we even disguise avoidance as virtue. We may claim that distance from a difficult person is an act of love. But if that’s true, what are we really bearing? A failure to “bear all things” exposes pride more than love. It reveals an unwillingness to extend to others the same grace we ourselves have freely received.

The love Paul describes is not sentimental or disposable. It doesn’t fade when circumstances grow uncomfortable or when someone crosses a line. True love is deliberate. It chooses to endure the pain, the insult, the annoyance, or even malice directed toward us. Scripture calls us to feed our enemy if he is hungry and to give him water if he is thirsty. Jesus put it plainly: “If you love those who love you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them” (Luke 6:32).

The love of Christ is not natural—it is supernatural. We can only live it out by following in the steps of the One who bore the weight of our sin. Only as we take up our cross and die to self can we experience the joy and peace of loving like Jesus.

So let’s examine our hearts. Let’s choose to love the unlovely—bearing rejection, ill will, or whatever wounds may come. Because when we love like Jesus, we truly learn what it means to bear all things.