The hardest people to love are the ones that are mean for no reason. The ones who treat you condescendingly, the ones who act like you're imposing on them because they don't like carrots and they wanted a bag instead of a box. The ones who are angry and take it out on you.
The easiest people to love are the ones who are grateful to the point of hugs. The ones who are happy to receive anything they can and understand when you can't do more. The ones with big families, the ones living on the street, the ones who hang around and help sweep the stairs or take out the trash.
Maybe the hardest people to love are also the ones you can't give enough love to. That makes love hard. The family of 10 from Somalia. The 21-year-old single mother with cancer. The children who don't get to experience the carelessness of being a kid.
The funnest ones to love are the ones who are crazy. The two Russian 19-year-old guys hitch-hiking across the US for the summer. The woman whose father was a scientist convicted of Communism and whose mother was royalty refugeed from Spain. The guy who asked me nutrition and exercise advice even though he was living on the street.
I don't always love the people I should. Showing favoritism is a subconscious thing sometimes. Jesus loved them all, the hard ones, the easy ones, the fun ones. He had compassion on the ones I would turn away or get annoyed with. I wished once that Jesus worked in the food pantry, so I could see what compassion in these circumstances looks like. But...I guess...maybe that's what Jesus left us the Holy Spirit for.
