A Better Way Home

I was walking down the street the other day, minding my own business, when a fellow in a pickup leaned out his window and hollered something at me that wasn’t exactly a blessing from the Beatitudes. I couldn’t make out all of it, but I caught enough syllables to know I wasn’t getting invited to Sunday supper.

Now, my first reaction was the same as yours would be—cheeks flushed, fists clenched, and a dozen witty comebacks marching through my brain like an army with fresh boots. It’s funny how our tongues can outpace our common sense by about three football fields when we feel slighted.

But then, like an old hymn sneaking into my head, I remembered Jesus’ words: “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”

That’s Matthew 5:44. I don’t know about you, but I usually prefer the verses about God being my shepherd or my refuge. “Love your enemies” feels like it was slipped in by mistake, maybe as a test to see if we’re paying attention.

The truth is, Jesus meant it. He wasn’t just correcting the Pharisees for their stiff-necked reading of the law.

He was calling us all to something higher, and holier—God’s kind of love. A love that doesn’t just stop at “Don’t cuss back at the guy in the pickup,” but pushes us to pray for him, wish him well, maybe even wave without using all five fingers if you catch my drift.

And that’s where it gets uncomfortable, because the world doesn’t applaud this kind of love. We learn to defend ourselves, clap back, cancel, or strike first.

But Jesus says, “No, take the better way. Don’t just avoid evil—overcome it with good.” (Romans 12:21)

I thought about that as I kept walking home. Somewhere between the corner store and my mailbox, I realized that if God shines His sun on the evil and the good alike (Matthew 5:45), maybe I could at least manage a prayer for a stranger with a loud mouth and a rusty muffler.

After all, who knows what kind of day that poor soul was having? Maybe he just got bad news at work, or his dog ran away, or he’s just the kind of person who thinks shouting insults is a sport.

Whatever the reason, it didn’t cost me much to whisper, “Lord, bless him anyway.”

Christians sometimes get painted with a broad brush as angry, hateful, or judgmental. And sure, some loud voices fit that caricature, but I’ve also known countless believers who live quiet lives of love—delivering meals, forgiving debts, showing up at hospital bedsides, loving people who don’t love them back. Those folks rarely make headlines, but they make heaven smile.

That’s the better way. It isn’t pie-in-the-sky. It’s shoe-leather faith. It’s making the choice—sometimes daily, sometimes minute by minute—to let Christ’s love outpace our temper.

Does it mean we become doormats? No.

Jesus never told us to ignore justice or stay silent in the face of real harm. But He did instruct us to forgive, to refuse revenge, and to pray for those who cut us deep, which isn’t a weakness, but strength measured in mercy.

So here’s my challenge, to myself first and then to you–the next time someone hollers, mocks, or mistreats, try the better way. Pray for them.

Bless them in your heart. Forgive before being asked.

If nothing else, you’ll walk home lighter, freer, and maybe with a story worth telling. Because love—real love—always leaves you stronger than hate ever could.

And who knows? Maybe that fellow in the pickup will get home, sit down in his recliner, and wonder why the guy he insulted just waved back and smiled.

Stranger things have happened on the road to heaven.