The love that protects what matters most.
My wife and I passed a small church on the corner.
White paint, weathered edges, cross standing steady.
The sign out front didn’t try to convince anyone.
It just said:
Proverbs 6:16-19
That’s it.
No tagline. No “Join us Sunday.”
Just a verse reference—like a whisper that refuses to shout.
I looked it up.
“There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are detestable to Him…”
And right there between the clang of the grocery bags and the hum of the tires,
a strange thought:
- Why this verse?
- Why post about what God hates?
Maybe Because We’ve Forgotten What Hate Means
Today, outrage sells.
Scroll any feed—anger has an audience.
It’s easy. It’s loud.
So the word hate starts to blur.
We think it’s the opposite of love.
But that’s not how God uses it.
His hate isn’t fury.
It’s heartbreak.
It’s love defending something sacred.
What’s He Defending?
Think back to Genesis.
Before commandments, before religion,
God made relationship.
“Let us make mankind in our image.”
Everything starts there.
So when He says He hates something,
He’s talking about anything that tears relationship apart—
pride that isolates,
lies that corrode,
violence that dehumanizes,
division that fractures.
Love builds what hate destroys.
And He won’t stand by while what He built is dismantled.
The Quiet Power of a Church Sign
That sign didn’t explain.
It didn’t debate.
It just stood still.
Sometimes, truth doesn’t need a megaphone.
It only needs to stay visible long enough for someone to notice.
For me, that sign became a mirror—
showing pride as a spectacle,
truth offered cheaply,
and division treated like entertainment.
They didn’t have to preach it.
They just had to post it.
Hate That Comes From Love
We’ve misunderstood hate for so long.
We’ve confused holiness with hostility.
But look closely:
He hates pride because He loves humility.
He hates lies because He loves truth.
He hates division because He loves unity.
His hate isn’t temper—it’s protection.
Not rejection, but rescue.
When God says “I hate,”
He’s really saying,
“I won’t let you destroy what I made to connect us.”
A Small Reminder
It started as a grocery run.
It turned into a theology of love.
Maybe that’s the whole point.
God drops quiet reminders in ordinary places—
hoping we’ll look up long enough to see them.
Hate shocks us.
Love softens us.
But together, they define holiness.
God created relationship.
And He hates whatever destroys it.
That’s not judgment.
That’s love protecting what’s sacred.
It began with a grocery run—and ended as a reminder that even God’s hate is love, refusing to let go of what He designed to last.