RELATABLE: When Love Gets Uncomfortable
BEFORE YOU BEGIN
This five-day devotional is for anyone who’s ever felt too red to care, too wounded to help, or too busy to love. Whether you’re burned out by people or burdened for them, Jesus offers a better way. Each day, we’ll sit with the example of Jesus—how He moved toward messy, awkward, or rejected people—and how we can do the same.
Here’s how to get the most out of it:
Start by reading the daily Scripture slowly and prayerfully.
Read the devotional reflection with an open heart. Let it challenge and comfort you.
Pause to journal. Don’t skip this—it’s where truth starts to stick.
End with the prayer as a way to surrender your heart and ac ons to Jesus.
DAY ONE: When Love Moves First
Read: Luke 5:12–13
“While Jesus was in one of the towns, a man came along who was covered with leprosy. When
he saw Jesus, he fell with his face to the ground and begged Him, ‘Lord, if You are willing, You
can make me clean.’ Jesus reached out His hand and touched the man. ‘I am willing,’ He said.
‘Be clean!’ And immediately the leprosy left him.” (Luke 5:12–13, NIV)
REFLECTION
Let’s start with the obvious: people are not easy.
Some people are awkward.
Some are demanding.
Some feel like more work than they’re worth—especially when you’re already stretched thin.
And if we’re being honest, there are days when the last thing we feel like doing is dealing with
someone else’s mess.
We’d rather keep to ourselves, love Jesus quietly, and let someone else be the “people person.”
But here’s the tension:
Jesus didn’t give us that option.
Because Jesus didn’t avoid the outcast—He moved toward them.
This story in Luke 5 is more than a miracle.
It’s a masterclass in what real love looks like.
A man covered in leprosy—beyond healing, beyond hope—throws himself at Jesus’ feet.
Not with confidence, but with desperation.
He doesn’t say, “If You can.”
He says, “If You are willing...”
That question is deeper than it sounds.
It’s not about Jesus’ ability—it’s about His heart.
Because when people have been rejected long enough, they stop questioning power and start
doubting worth.
“Would anyone choose me? See me? Come close to me?”
And what does Jesus do?
He touches him.
Before the man is healed.
Before the skin clears up.
Before the story has a happy ending.
Jesus reaches out and closes the distance.
You’ve got to let that sink in.
This man was used to people backing away.
But Jesus stepped forward.
Not because He had to, but because that’s who He is.
Compassion doesn’t wait.
It moves first.
That’s the kind of love that heals more than skin.
That’s the kind of love Jesus showed us.
And that’s the kind of love He’s asking us to show others.
So here’s the invitation:
Who have you been stepping around that Jesus is calling you to step toward?
It doesn’t take a perfect script or a big moment.
It takes presence.
It takes willingness.
It takes faith that when we move first in love, we look most like Jesus.
JOURNAL PROMPT
Who have I been quietly avoiding because it’s uncomfortable or inconvenient?
What would it look like to “move first” toward that person this week?
PRAYER
Jesus, thank You for moving toward me even when I felt untouchable.
Thank You for loving me not from a distance, but with a touch that heals and restores.
Give me the courage to do the same for someone else this week.
Help me see people the way You do—not as interrupGons, but as invitaGons to love.
Lead me toward the outcast, the hurGng, the overlooked—because that’s where You are.
In Your name I pray, amen.
DAY TWO: The Question Beneath the Question
Read: Luke 5:12
“When he saw Jesus, he fell with his face to the ground and begged Him, ‘Lord, if You are
willing, You can make me clean.’” (Luke 5:12, NIV)
REFLECTION
Sometimes what people say isn’t really what they’re saying.
This man with leprosy didn’t come to Jesus questioning His power.
He didn’t ask, “Can You do this?”
He asked, “Are You willing?”
Those are two very different questions.
One is a question of capacity—“Do You have the power?”
The other is a question of compassion—“Do You have the heart?”
And that’s what so many people are still wondering today.
Not: “Is God able?”
But: “Would God want someone like me?”
Underneath the religious language and the polite smiles... that question simmers:
Would God draw close to me, knowing everything I’ve done?
Would He even care enough to step into my mess?
Does He actually want me?
And maybe that’s not just their question.
Maybe it’s your question too.
You believe God can heal.
You believe He could restore your family, change your situation, breathe life into the part of you that feels dead.
But you wonder if He actually wants to.
And that wondering keeps you at a distance.
But here’s the beauty of what Jesus does in this moment:
He doesn’t rebuke the question.
He doesn’t criticize the man for doubting His heart.
He simply reaches out... and touches him.
Jesus doesn’t just answer with words—He answers with presence.
That’s how Jesus responds to the ache under the question.
He doesn’t just fix the external problem—He moves toward the internal pain.
And when you and I do the same—when we step toward people who are wondering if they
matter, if they’re worth our time, if they still have a place—we become a visible expression of
the heart of God.
Because when you show up with compassion, you're answering someone’s deepest question:
“Am I still worth it?”
And here’s the part that might sting a little:
Sometimes we don’t reflect that kind of love because we haven’t received it fully for ourselves.
We think Jesus tolerates us.
That He puts up with us.
That He forgives us because He has to, not because He wants to.
But if you carry that view of God, it’s going to affect how you treat people.
You’ll love people with limits.
You’ll give grace with strings aSached.
You’ll serve, but only when it’s safe or when it makes sense.
So here’s the invitation today:
Let God rewire your understanding of His heart.
Because Jesus didn’t move toward this man reluctantly.
He didn’t flinch.
He didn’t hesitate.
He wanted to heal.
He wanted to touch.
He wanted to restore.
That’s not just who Jesus was—it’s who He is.
And when you believe that... really believe it... you’ll start treating people differently.
Not as projects. Not as problems. But as people worth pursuing.
Because when you reflect the heart of Jesus, people stop doubting theirs.
JOURNAL PROMPT
Have I been questioning God’s willingness in my life—or assuming He’s too distant to care?
Who in my world might be silently asking, “Am I worth your time?” How can I show them they are?
PRAYER
Jesus, I confess that sometimes I doubt Your heart.
I believe You’re powerful, but I struggle to believe You’re willing.
Today, I choose to believe that You want to be close.
Thank You for stepping toward me when I felt disqualified and unseen.
Help me reflect that kind of love to the people around me.
Let my presence become proof of Your heart.
Use me to help someone believe they’re still worth reaching for.
In Your name, amen.
DAY THREE: Permission to Rest
Read: Luke 5:16
“But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.” (Luke 5:16, NIV)
REFLECTION
Let’s just go ahead and say it out loud:
Loving people is draining.
Even when it’s good... even when it’s Spirit-led... even when you want to do it—it still costs something.
Especially when you’re loving the people who are hurting, needy, or never seem to change.
And that’s exactly why this tiny verse about Jesus withdrawing is such a big deal.
Jesus was surrounded by needs.
Everywhere He went, someone wanted a miracle.
A healing.
A word.
A breakthrough.
And guess what? He could’ve said yes to every one of them.
But He didn’t.
He stepped away.
He withdrew.
He chose solitude.
He made space to pray, not just to preach.
Not because He didn’t care.
But because He cared deeply—and knew that love without rest eventually becomes noise without impact.
Let that settle in:
Even Jesus needed rhythms of rest to keep showing up with love.
Now think about your life.
How many times have you tried to love on empty?
How many conversations have you powered through out of guilt, not grace?
How many moments have you shown up physically but checked out emotionally because your soul was running on fumes?
We wear burnout like it’s a badge of faithfulness.
But it’s not.
Jesus didn’t run on adrenaline.
He ran on communion.
He had nothing to prove.
No insecurity to drive Him.
He wasn’t afraid to stop—because He trusted the Father with what He wasn’t doing while He rested.
Some of us think rest is weakness.
But in the kingdom of God, rest is wisdom.
And if we’re going to love like Jesus loved, we can’t do it with a burned-out soul.
We have to make space to refill—emotionally, spiritually, relationally.
Rest isn’t quitting.
It’s how you stay in the game.
It’s how you show up with joy instead of just surviving with obligation.
If Jesus carved out space to be alone with the Father, then we need to stop treating rest like an optional luxury. It’s a sacred rhythm that protects your compassion from becoming cold.
Because here’s the hard truth:
You can’t love people well when you’re constantly running from depleMon.
Your soul wasn’t made to sprint all the time.
You were created for a rhythm—rest, reflect, reconnect, return.
So maybe today’s invitation isn’t to do more.
Maybe it’s to stop long enough for God to refill you.
JOURNAL PROMPT
Where in your life are you feeling emotionally or spiritually depleted?
What small practice can you build into your week that helps you reconnect with God and refill your heart?
PRAYER
Jesus, thank You for showing me that rest isn’t failure—it’s faith.
You stepped away, not because You didn’t care, but because You cared enough to protect Your soul.
Help me follow Your lead.
Teach me to slow down.
Help me value presence over performance.
I want to love people well, but I can’t do that when I’m running on empty.
Fill me today with Your peace, Your power, and Your perspective.
I surrender my pace to You. In Your name, amen.
DAY FOUR: The People You’d Rather Avoid
Read: Luke 5:12–13
“When he saw Jesus, he fell with his face to the ground and begged Him, ‘Lord, if You are
willing, You can make me clean.’ Jesus reached out His hand and touched the man. ‘I am willing,’
He said. ‘Be clean!’ And immediately the leprosy left him.” (Luke 5:12–13, NIV)
REFLECTION
Let’s be honest. We all have “those people.”
People who are...
Too intense.
Too needy.
Too dramatic.
Too negative.
Too confusing.
Too... much.
You don’t hate them.
You just kind of... avoid them.
You keep conversations short.
You strategically sit a little farther away.
You conveniently “forget” to text back.
You convince yourself it’s about boundaries. But if you’re not careful, boundaries become walls.
And walls are great at keeping people out... but they’re also great at keeping you in.
In Luke 5, the man with leprosy was the definition of someone people avoided.
He had an illness, yes—but more than that, he carried a stigma.
A spiritual scarlet letter.
Everywhere he went, people stepped back.
And most of them probably thought they were doing the right thing.
But Jesus didn’t step back.
He stepped forward.
He didn’t wait until the man got it together.
He didn’t evaluate whether he was “worth the effort.”
He didn’t set up safe emotional distance.
He moved toward him.
And that’s what real compassion looks like.
It doesn’t stop at pity.
It steps in with presence.
Here’s the part we need to wrestle with:
The people you avoid are often the people God is sending you to.
Not because they’re easy.
Not because they’ll always appreciate it.
But because something happens in you when you show up for the person you’d rather ignore.
God doesn’t just use you to love them—He uses them to shape you.
This is where the gospel gets real.
Because Jesus didn’t just love the lovable.
He loved you—when you were awkward, broken, immature, defensive, and full of mess.
He loved you when you didn’t know what to say.
He loved you when you had nothing to offer.
And He didn’t love from a distance—He came close.
So when you step toward someone you’d rather avoid, you’re not just doing something good.
You’re stepping into what it means to follow Jesus.
You’re living the kind of love that isn’t based on convenience or chemistry or comfort.
You’re showing up with the kind of compassion that doesn’t need anything in return.
And maybe, just maybe, that person will encounter the heart of Jesus through your willingness to close the gap.
JOURNAL PROMPT
Who is someone in your life you’ve quietly been avoiding—maybe because it’s too draining, too awkward, or just inconvenient?
What would it look like to move toward them this week—not to fix them, but simply to be present?
PRAYER
Jesus, thank You for loving me when I was hard to love.
Thank You for stepping toward me when everyone else might’ve stepped away.
Give me Your heart for the people I’d rather avoid.
Help me see them through Your eyes.
Interrupt my comfort. Stretch my compassion.
Teach me to love not just with words, but with presence.
Show me how to close the gap this week with someone who needs Your touch through me.
In Your name, amen.
DAY FIVE: The Gospel in One Touch
Read: Luke 5:12–13
“When he saw Jesus, he fell with his face to the ground and begged Him, ‘Lord, if You are
willing, You can make me clean.’ Jesus reached out His hand and touched the man. ‘I am willing,’
He said. ‘Be clean!’ And immediately the leprosy left him.” (Luke 5:12–13, NIV)
REFLECTION
If you want to understand the Gospel—what Jesus came to do, what Christianity is really all
about—you could spend hours in theology books.
Or...
You could spend two minutes with this leper.
Because in this one scene, Jesus shows us everything:
Who we are, who He is, what we need, and what He offers.
This man wasn’t just physically sick.
He was spiritually excluded.
Socially rejected.
Emotionally exhausted.
He wasn’t just in pain—he was cut off.
Not just broken, but ashamed.
And here’s what makes it hit home:
That leper is all of us.
You may not have sores on your skin, but you’ve got wounds that go deeper.
Wounds from sin.
Wounds from shame.
Wounds from things you’ve done—or things that were done to you.
Places you’ve tried to hide.
Places that still whisper, “If they really knew... they’d step away.”
And then Jesus comes.
Not with a lecture.
Not with a list of things to fix first.
Not with a hazmat suit or a six-foot barrier.
He comes close.
He touches the untouchable.
He speaks healing into what seemed hopeless.
That’s the Gospel.
Not that we worked our way to God, but that He stepped toward us.
Not that we got ourselves cleaned up, but that He made us clean.
Not that we earned His love, but that He gave it freely.
And this moment in Luke 5 points to a greater one:
When Jesus didn’t just touch the outcast—He became the outcast.
He took our sin, our shame, our distance from God... and carried it to the cross.
He was wounded so we could be healed.
Rejected so we could be accepted.
Condemned so we could be forgiven.
The leper’s question—“If You are willing...”—echoes in our hearts, doesn’t it?
And the answer Jesus gave him is the same answer He gives you:
“I am willing.”
He’s willing to forgive.
Willing to heal.
Willing to save.
Willing to make you clean.
That’s not just a religious idea—it’s a personal invitation.
Not to behave better.
Not to fake it.
But to come honestly, humbly, and let Jesus do what only He can.
So the real question is no longer, “Is He willing?”
The question is: Are you?
JOURNAL PROMPT
Have you ever fully trusted Jesus—not just with your behavior, but with your brokenness?
What would it mean for you to come to Him like the leper—honest, open, and ready to be made clean?
