Over the past several days, I’ve been listening to a series of messages about relationships: marriage, family, friendships, work, and all the complicated ways imperfect people try to live alongside other imperfect people. As I listened, several principles stood out to me because they don’t just provide advice for improving relationships. They challenge the way we think about ourselves, other people, and ultimately God.
I certainly haven’t mastered these principles. I’m imperfect. I’ve made mistakes and sometimes been far more concerned with being understood than understanding someone else. But perhaps that is exactly why these lessons matter. Growth doesn’t begin by pretending we haven’t failed. It begins when we’re willing to look honestly at ourselves and allow God to change us.
Everyone Acts in a Way That Makes Sense to Them
One of the most helpful principles is surprisingly simple: everyone behaves in a way that makes sense to them. That doesn’t mean everyone’s behavior is right. It doesn’t mean sinful, destructive, selfish, or hurtful behavior should be excused. It means there is usually a why underneath the what.
We should become students of other people, to try to understand why they think, react, withdraw, become defensive, get angry, or behave in ways that make absolutely no sense to us. Instead of immediately assigning motives, we can ask what experiences, fears, beliefs, wounds, expectations, or assumptions might make that behavior seem reasonable from their perspective. That distinction is important because understanding is not the same thing as approval. Proverbs 14:12 tells us, “There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death.” Something can genuinely make sense to me and still be completely wrong. That’s true of other people, but it’s also true of me.
Sometimes instead of asking, “How could they possibly do that?” perhaps I should ask, “Why does that make sense to them?” And when examining my own behavior, I need the humility to ask the same question and then allow Scripture to determine whether what makes sense to me is actually right.
You Can’t Give Away What You Don’t Possess
The next principle goes deeper: you cannot impart what you do not possess. Jesus said the second greatest commandment is to “love your neighbor as yourself”. When we are desperately looking to another person for our worth, security, acceptance, or identity, even our attempts at loving them can become transactional. We may not consciously think, I’ll love you if you love me back. But sometimes that’s exactly what’s happening beneath the surface.
We serve because we want appreciation. We give because we want something returned. We perform because we want approval. We behave a certain way because we desperately need another person to assure us that we’re valuable. That’s not freedom.
Ephesians 5:1–2 says, “Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us.” Notice where that begins: beloved children. Our identity doesn’t begin with another person’s opinion of us. It begins with God’s love for us. When I understand that I am already loved by God, I don’t have to squeeze affirmation out of another person. I can increasingly love without demanding that someone fill something inside me that only God can fill.
Knowing God as He Is Changes How We Love People
That naturally leads into another principle: knowing God as He really is is the prerequisite to loving other people as they really are. That sentence deserves some thought. We often spend enormous amounts of energy trying to change people. If they would communicate differently, apologize, understand us, behave differently, make different decisions, or finally see things from our perspective, then everything would be better. But loving someone as they are means recognizing something uncomfortable: I cannot fix another human being.
That doesn’t mean ignoring sin. It doesn’t mean eliminating boundaries or consequences. It doesn’t mean calling something good that God calls wrong. It simply means my love for another person cannot be contingent upon successfully turning them into the person I think they should become.
Jesus’ teaching about prayer in Luke 11 describes a Father who is approachable, generous, attentive, and good. He tells His disciples to ask, seek, and knock. If imperfect earthly fathers know how to give good things to their children, Jesus asks, how much more can we trust our heavenly Father?
That changes relationships because eventually I reach situations I simply cannot repair. I can’t change someone’s heart. I can’t control someone’s decisions. I can’t rewrite yesterday. I can’t force reconciliation. I can’t manufacture repentance. I can’t make someone understand me, and sometimes the most honest prayer we can offer is simply, “God, I can’t fix this.” There is tremendous freedom in finally admitting that.
Love Doesn’t Require Approval
Another important lesson is the difference between loving someone and approving of everything they do. God’s grace toward us doesn’t mean our sin doesn’t matter. In fact, Romans 2:4 says that God’s kindness is meant to lead us toward repentance. Grace isn’t pretending wrong is right. Grace is responding to another person’s imperfection from a heart that remembers how much grace God has extended to us. That’s difficult.
It becomes especially difficult when someone has hurt us. Our natural instinct is often to keep score, defend ourselves, prove our point, demand acknowledgment, or wait for the other person to change before deciding how we will respond. But Christ gives us another model.
Ephesians 4:31–32 says, “Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.” Again, notice the direction. God’s grace toward me becomes the foundation for the grace I extend toward others.
Comparison Destroys Our Ability to Love
Another dimension is the truth that comparison always leads to carnality. This principle is based on 2 Corinthians 10:12, where Paul describes people who measure themselves by themselves and compare themselves with themselves as being “without understanding.”
Comparison almost always takes us in one of two directions. I look at someone and conclude, I’m doing better than they are. That’s pride. Or I look at someone and conclude, They’re doing better than I am. That can produce envy, insecurity, resentment, or discouragement.Neither produces love.
We compare careers, marriages, children, houses, finances, appearances, abilities, possessions, ministries, accomplishments, and even suffering. We can become so focused on somebody else’s life that we lose sight of what God is doing in our own.
A much healthier measurement is to stop asking how you’re doing compared with everyone else and start asking how you’re doing compared with the person God created you to become. Paul said in 1 Corinthians 15:10, “But by the grace of God I am what I am.” God didn’t call me to become somebody else. He called me to faithfully become the man He created me to be.
The Person I Need to Examine Is Me
When I put all of these teachings together, they point me toward an uncomfortable but freeing conclusion: I spend far too much time examining other people when God is asking me to examine myself.
Why did they do that? Why don’t they understand? Why won’t they change? Why don’t they see what I see? Why can’t they admit they’re wrong? Those questions may occasionally be legitimate, but eventually they reach a dead end because I don’t control the answers. There are better questions.
Am I loving people the way Christ loves me?
Am I trying to understand before judging someone’s motives?
Am I depending upon another person’s approval for something I should be receiving from God?
Am I loving someone while still recognizing the difference between grace and approval?
Am I comparing my life with somebody else’s instead of faithfully living the life God gave me?
And perhaps most importantly: What does God need to change in me?
That’s a question I can actually do something about.
Let God Handle What You Cannot
Taken together, these lessons have reminded me that healthy relationships aren’t primarily built by discovering the perfect technique for changing other people. They begin with allowing God to change us.
Understand that another person’s behavior probably makes sense from where they are standing, even when it’s wrong. Stop requiring other people to provide the security and identity that should come from God. Learn who God actually is so that His grace becomes the model for how you treat imperfect people. Love people without pretending everything they do is acceptable. Stop comparing your life with theirs, and concentrate on becoming the person God has called you to become.
There will still be broken relationships. There will still be disagreements. There will still be people who misunderstand us. There will still be circumstances we desperately wish we could change. And there will be things we simply cannot fix.
Maybe maturity is partly learning the difference between what God has given me responsibility for and what I need to place back into His hands. I am responsible for my actions, my words, my attitudes, my repentance, my forgiveness, my obedience, and my relationship with Christ. When I fail, and I will miserably, I am responsible for admitting it, seeking forgiveness, learning from it, and continuing to grow.
I am not responsible for controlling another person’s heart. That’s God’s territory, and perhaps one of the greatest freedoms we can experience in relationships comes when we finally stop trying to do God’s job and begin faithfully doing our own.
