Got Enemies? 3 Ways to Deal with the Pain

If you have no enemies, you either don't get out much or you’re dead.


Everyone makes someone mad sometime in their life, and if you’re like me—opinionated and bold—you’ve made several enemies along the way. But what do you do when someone dislikes, even hates you, and you’ve apologized, bent over backwards to make up with them, and they still refuse to forgive you?

I have two such people in my life right now. I’ve found three things that help ease the hurt when these individuals make it clear they wish I wasn’t sharing the same planet with them. I believe these discoveries will help you, too.

Jesus said, "I Told You So." 

1. I remind myself that Jesus said the world would hate me because I belong to Him (John 15). If no one dislikes me, it means my light isn’t shining. When Satan tempts me to condemn myself, I refuse his lies, reminding him of Romans 8:1. If he persists, I preach him a sermon OUT LOUD, about who I am in Christ and the price Jesus paid to make me His princess. That makes him run off with his tail between his legs.

Prayer Flushes out the Pain

2. I pray for my enemy. They have some kind of owie in their heart that keeps them from forgiving my real and imagined wrongs against them, and they need God’s help to get over the pain. Plus, praying for them releases me from any bitterness trying to attach itself to my heart like barnacles on the side of a boat.

Leaving the Door Open

3. I am pleasant and gracious when I encounter this individual. I’m tempted to ignore then, so I don’t have to deal with their rejection and icy treatment. But I want to leave the door open for Jesus to work in their life. . Their eternal destiny is far more important than my feelings. If I walk in love and treat them with respect, I cannot be blamed for their poor attitude, and I have a clear conscience.


How have you managed your emotions when someone dislikes or even hates you?

3 Stages of Writer's Grief

Up until last week, I’ve taken all the rejections my agent forwarded to me with a grain of salt. But when I received a somewhat unkind letter last week, I went through the Three Stages of Writer’s Grief:

The Toddler: “Waaaahhhh! They didn’t have to say my writing wasn’t the caliber they are looking for; a simple “we pass” would’ve sufficed. Besides, they didn’t say what about my writing they didn’t like, so how is this supposed to help me? I need my pacifier—in the form of a chocolate bar!”

The Teenager: “Yeah, right! So, they only publish twelve titles a year, and this forces them to be discriminate. Like all the other publishers out there are indiscriminate? Like they just dig into their slush piles, pull one out with a squiggly font they like, and publish it?”

The Adult: “Oh well. This publisher obviously wasn’t the one for me. When the perfect one comes along, they’ll love my manuscript. At least they got back to us right away, and didn’t leave us hanging on, wondering for weeks or months.”


Been there, done that?

Any stages of writer’s grief I missed?

How do you turn rejection into a springboard for growth?