“You Need to Be More Loving.”
If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard this—said to me, said by me, or whispered inside my own head—I’d probably be retired by now.
It sounds spiritual.
It sounds right.
And yet almost every time it lands, it produces the opposite of love.
It produces shame,
or defensiveness,
or exhaustion.
It is a strange thing to tell another human being to be something without explaining what that actually means or how to get there. The command is vague, but the pressure is not. There is almost always an unspoken or else attached to it.
Be more loving… or you’re failing.
Be more loving… or you’re not spiritual enough.
Be more loving… or you’re the problem.
And if we are honest, most of us do not change because someone told us to. We change because something inside us shifted—because our hearts were moved, our bodies calmed, or we finally felt safe enough to do something different.
That is not rebellion.
That is how humans were created to work.
Why Commands Alone Don’t Produce Love
Scripture speaks with quiet clarity here.
The law can tell me what to do, but it cannot give me the power to do it. In fact, the more pressured I feel, the more likely I am to resist—or to perform love outwardly while resentment grows inwardly.
Paul says it plainly:
“The law came in to increase the trespass” (Romans 5:20).
When love is demanded from a heart that is overwhelmed, exhausted, or afraid, the result is rarely fruit. More often, it is collapse or pretense.
We frequently label this a spiritual failure, when in reality it is a capacity issue.
This is why the gospel is not simply a better law, but a better source of life. Christ does not stand outside us demanding love; He dwells within us supplying it.
“Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Colossians 1:27).
The call to love is not a call to self-generation.
It is a call to dependence.
Love Requires Safety Before It Requires Effort
When the body is in fight, flight, freeze, or shutdown, the ability to access patience, empathy, or self-control is biologically limited. This is not an excuse—it is an explanation.
The fruit of the Spirit does not grow well in a body that feels unsafe.
Scripture never ignores this reality:
“He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust” (Psalm 103:14).
God does not ask us to bear fruit while denying our limits.
Jesus Himself did not bypass the body in His ministry. He slept. He wept. He withdrew. He ate. He touched. He rested.
Our limits are not obstacles to sanctification.
They are often the very place Christ meets us.
When the body slows, the heart can open.
When the nervous system settles, love becomes accessible.
When we feel safe, we can choose differently.
Love Grows in Groundedness, Not Pressure
Scripture consistently points us toward a way of living that is neither reactive nor forced:
“Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).
Stillness is not passivity. It is the place where discernment becomes possible—where emotion and truth can meet, and where we are able to choose our values instead of reacting from fear.
This is the renewed mind Paul describes:
“Be transformed by the renewal of your mind” (Romans 12:2).
When people are grounded, validated, and emotionally settled, love often begins to show up naturally—not because they were commanded, but because there is finally room for it.
Love Is Often an Action Before It Is a Feeling
Scripture never promises that love will always feel easy. Often, love begins as a choice—a small act of obedience offered to God before the emotions catch up.
“While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).
We do not act in love to manufacture holiness.
We act in love because we belong to Christ—and His life is already at work in us.
Obedience does not create union.
It flows from union.
Love is not a mood.
It is a practice.
And practice requires safety, support, and time.
Grace Is the Soil — Christ Is the Vine
Jesus gives us the clearest picture:
“Abide in Me… as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine” (John 15:4–5).
Grace is the soil.
Christ is the vine.
And fruit grows only because His life flows through the branches.
Any practice, discipline, or skill that does not lead us back to dependence on Christ is empty. But when wisdom supports our capacity to abide, love grows naturally—because Christ is at work.
So the next time you hear, “You need to be more loving,” pause and ask a better question:
What would help me feel grounded enough, safe enough, and steady enough to love?
Because love is not produced by law.
It is formed through relationship, practice, and grace.
A Grounded Love Exercise (5–10 Minutes)
This is not about trying harder.
It is about slowing down enough for love to become possible.
Step 1: Pause the Body
Before you ask yourself to love anyone, pause and notice your body.
Place one hand on your chest and one on your belly.
Take three slow breaths.
Let your exhale be longer than your inhale.
Ask gently:
- Am I tense or settled?
- Am I rushed, defended, or depleted?
- What does my body need right now?
You are not failing if the answer is rest.
Even Jesus withdrew often.
Step 2: Name the Emotion
Love cannot grow in unnamed emotions.
Ask yourself: What am I actually feeling right now?
Not what you should feel—what you do feel.
If needed, start with one word:
- tired
- hurt
- angry
- afraid
- numb
- overwhelmed
“Pour out your heart before Him” (Psalm 62:8).
Naming is not indulgence.
It is honesty.
Step 3: Return to Abiding
Ask:
If I were grounded in truth and love, what would the next right step be?
Not the perfect step.
Not the impressive step.
The next right step.
This is often where love begins—quietly and imperfectly.
Step 4: Choose One Loving Action
Choose one small, concrete action:
- speak gently instead of withdrawing
- set a boundary instead of resentfully giving
- pray instead of reacting
- take a break instead of pushing
- send a kind text
- say nothing and rest
Love does not have to be big to be real.
It only has to be intentional.
Step 5: Release the Outcome
End with this prayer:
God, I offer You this small act of love.
I release the outcome to You.
Grow what I cannot.
This is where grace lives—not in effort alone, but in surrender.
A Final Word
If you struggle to love, it does not mean you are broken.
It usually means you are tired, hurt, or overwhelmed.
Love is fruit.
And fruit grows slowly—in good soil, with care.
Be patient with yourself.
God already is.
May this reflection lead you not inward, but deeper into abiding—where Christ forms His love in you, patiently, faithfully, and without condemnation.
References
Holy Bible, ESV
Linehan, M. (2015). DBT Skills Training Manual.
Siegel, D. (2012). The Developing Mind.