Even When You Want To Throat Punch Them

Hello, Lovies—

Now, before we dive in, let me just say this upfront: yes, this one has a biblical theme. But trust me—it’s not here to preach at you. This isn’t just for church folks. It’s for humans.

Are you human?

Okay, good. Any non-humans or politicians in the room may want to grab their big kid pants and open their hearts just a smidge. 😉

Because what I’m about to share is less about religion and more about this ache I carry—a lifelong grief, really—for the way we keep hurting each other when we could be healing each other instead.

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This past Sunday, I finally made it back to church after a few weeks of summer life—you know, vacation chaos, my husband traveling, juggling a five year old that feels like 3 kids in one.. Oh yeah and a 16 year old..

We’ve been in a series through Galatians, and I’d missed a few weeks. But this week? It landed deep. The kind of deep that makes you sit up straighter in your seat and feel like the message was personally hand-delivered.

The passage was Galatians 5:13–15, and it goes like this:

“For you were called to be free, brothers and sisters; only do not use this freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but serve one another through love. For the whole law is fulfilled in one statement: Love your neighbor as yourself. But if you bite and devour one another, watch out, or you will be consumed by one another.”
— Galatians 5:13–15 (CSB)

It just stopped me. Not in a theological way, but in a heart way.
A “yes, exactly this” kind of way.

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I’ve felt this ache for as long as I can remember—that disconnection from a world that feels so angry, so loud, so quick to tear each other apart. I’ve carried this quiet pain for most of my life. The ugliness? It hurts. The cruelty? It leaves a mark. The bitterness, division, yelling, and finger-pointing? I feel it all. And some days it’s like I’m walking through a world that was not built for soft-hearted people.

Honestly, I’ve never understood why we choose to bite and devour one another when love is right there—simple, clear, healing. I don’t mean love in a fluffy, kumbaya kind of way. I mean real love. Messy love. Love that serves. Love that pauses. Love that restrains the need to be “right” long enough to actually see someone.

And sure, if you read my last post, you know I still occasionally struggle with the very human urge to throat punch certain people. (Figuratively. Usually.)

But isn’t that the wild part?

We are free.
But Paul reminds us: that freedom isn’t a license to act out of our flesh—our impulses, our grudges, our snark.
It’s an invitation to love.

Even when it’s hard.
Especially when it’s hard.

Even when the internet is a dumpster fire.
Even when you’re sleep-deprived and the neighbor lets their dog bark all night.
Even when someone posts something you wildly disagree with.
Even when your teenager rolls their eyes for the 42nd time before lunch.
Even when the world feels like it’s falling apart.

Freedom doesn’t mean doing whatever we want.
It means choosing a better way.

And the better way is this:
Love your neighbor as yourself.
Because if we keep biting and devouring one another—Paul says it plainly—we’ll end up consumed.

And friend, I don’t want to be consumed. I want to be whole.
I want to choose softness, over and over, even when the world tells me that softness won’t protect me.

Because the truth is, it does.
It roots me.
It reminds me that I’m free—but I am not alone.

Neither are you.

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So this week, maybe we pause.
Maybe we breathe.
Maybe we choose not to bite.

Maybe we remember we’re all just humans trying our best, carrying invisible pain and longing to be seen.

Even the people we want to throat punch.

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With grace, bagels, and a whole lot of soft strength,
-J