Quality Friendships: Setting the Pace

Recently I have been thinking about friendship and community.

You see, I am 29 years old, and I am just learning how to be a friend. I don't know how that happened, except that this subject is not exactly taught in school or church or even life. If anything, you kind of learn what not to do by the repercussions of negative actions or by having a bad friend yourself. For me, friendships evolved out of just being together at the barn, or having desks next to one another at school. Friendships evolved out of, “Well, since you're here, we should get to know one another.” Also, “I have a similar problem. Yes, we are meant to be.” From there the friendship would mostly become selfish; me, hopelessly insecure, trying to have my needs met from this person who just happened to be in my vicinity, with similar problems to me. A match made in Heaven, so I thought. Sometimes it worked out, thankfully, but mostly it was just not meant to be.

Living in community at Bethel taught me so much about friendship. I felt like an old worn shoe undergoing an extensive rehabilitation process, complete with wire brushes and buffers and polish. God was doing an inside out work in me, that's for sure. And, it wasn't just me. The environment was rich with this sort of transformation, so as I made friends, we were all having our scuffs buffed out, together, in community. This experience led me to make my first, real best friend. I only thought I had best friends before. Now, I am exceedingly sorry to those people because I realized I had never been a friend to them. I had been shallow, needy, and undependable. As I learned to really be a friend, I was unearthed for who I really was: desperate, vulnerable, and dependable. I was needy in a different way; I needed to know I would be okay, and those I was in community with wanted to know the same. So, we talked, we spilled the beans, we let one another see our imperfections and it created this rich soil bed for prospering friendships. Out of this season, one friend in particular became someone I connected in my soul with. A sister. 

Then, we moved. My heart grieved leaving Bethel, of course, but I really didn't want to leave my sister. The good news is, though two years have passed, I love her as much as ever.

I wondered though, without Bethel as a host environment, if I would be able to make as close friends as I did there. The good news is, it was possible. More than possible. I have several soul sisters here, women who are the true salt of the earth. Some of the most precious people I have ever known. They know me. They know what God is doing in me. Where I have come from, where I am going. Most of the time, they remind me where I am going. For the first time in my life, at 29 years old, I am learning to be a good friend, and sustain quality relationships.

How do you do it? Well, it isn't easy.

But, it is totally worth it.

When I think about my friendships, I keep having this vision of myself as an 18 year old. I am running track my senior year. When I began running track, the coach made me a sprinter, which tested me beyond all physical limits, and truly, I sucked. The next year I tried Cross-Country and experienced some success, a lot more than track had given me, at least. By the next year, we had a new coach for the track team and he was ex-military. I don't even remember his name, but I see his face so clearly. He cared about my mile times. He recorded them at every meet and every practice. At the end of the week, he would hunt me down and show me my times and give me this look like he knew I could do better than that. He assigned me the 1600m run, the 3200m run, and by my own personal choice, the long jump (pretty sure he told me I was not built to be a long jumper, but I insisted and he relented. He turned out to be more right than I was). Between warm-up, my events, and cool down, I ran almost five miles at every meet! There were many times I questioned my coach's sanity. I remember praying for rain on meet days. I confessed this to coach and he laughed and said, “An athlete should crave the game.” I laughed back, because I didn't crave anything about running, and I hardly considered myself athletic. Over the season, my time improved but the last several meets I could not get my two mile time down. I ran on Saturdays and Sundays. If my time improved, it was only by 3-5 seconds.

Then, the last meet of the season, the last meet of my high school career, my last event had arrived. The two mile. I was so ready. When the pistol shot, I took off ahead of my peers. Definitely not the best of the match, but I could hold my own. I don't remember when he joined me, but my coach eventually came alongside my run and set my pace. The entire time he was shouting, “You can do this! Come on! Faster! Pick up your feet! Let's go! YOU'RE GIVING UP! DON'T GIVE UP!” I know it's strange, but this memory stands out to me as one of the more intimate moments of my life. I guess because I thought I was going to die by spontaneous heart combustion, and he was there, assuring me my heart actually wasn't beating hard enough. I crossed the finish line, and no, I didn't win. But, my coach was jumping in the air, his stop watch dangling over my head (because I was hunched over in the grass, my entire body rebelling against me) and he was shouting, “You did it! You shaved 20 seconds off!” Then, when I was able to breathe in a predictable pattern, I straightened beside him, and yanked the stop watch from his hand to see for myself. TWENTY SECONDS! When you're a runner, this is quite the victory.

So, this moment I have seen time and time again when I think about what has made my friendships so rich and meaningful. We are running our hearts out, together. Not racing each other. Pacing each other. I know this is a metaphor, but I'd like to share some practical ideas.

1. Vulnerability.

This has to be said. I'll never forget one of my first small group meetings at Bethel, a question was posed in a group discussion, “What is your most difficult sin to erase from your life? What is your most common battle?” We took some time to ask God, soak, reflect, and then as we came up with the answer, the group leader informed us we would be going around to share. WHAT???! Now, this was a small group I was meeting with regularly and building relationships with, not just a random group of people. Yet I had never said some of these things out loud. Dare I say the truth? But, I did. And now, I say it all the time to my closest friends. This is my battle. These are the seconds I am trying to shave off my life. Faithful friends, they are not scared of this, for they know their turn will come and you will not abandon them, either.

I am convinced one of the greatest forms of vulnerability is simple the unveiling of your imperfections. I have gotten so good at this (it's a honed skill, I am convinced) that a friend called me out once, and said, “Summer, you always start your sentences, 'You know what stupid thing I did?” After this I realized I may have abused vulnerability a bit. All I know is that the scariest part of vulnerability was admitting I wasn't perfect and didn't have it all together. It's pretty simple from there.

That was a joke. But, it does open the door for honest conversation. I have a soul sister that dreams of becoming a sex therapist, and she knows I am always available for her to practice her shrink skills. I have this memory of sitting on her living room floor with no kids around. She has the best, most soothing voice, and asks me, “So tell me. When was the first time you saw a man's...” You know. It was one of those moments where I realized her and I would love each other forever. Then, I closed my eyes, and told her all the things about intimacy that had broken my heart when I was younger. Her commitment to let me process has brought me an immense about of breakthrough. She is my go-to therapist, not just for intimacy, but about pretty much anything.

2. Inspire hope.

What's their goal? Is it greater intimacy with God? Breakthrough in marriage? Finances? Pressing into dreams? See where they're going. Pace with them. Go there with them in your heart, and dream with them. I know most of my friends deepest prayer requests, and they know mine. One of my flaws is that I am endlessly fixing situations, so if a friend says, “This is what's going on,” my inclination is to respond, “Well, all you have to do is...blah blah blah.” Most of my friends know this and let me say my piece, though my goal, beyond fixing their problems or planning the map to their goals is letting them know that they will get there. I can see it so clearly. It's coming! We're going there together!

3. Prophesy.

Prophesying is really a fancy word for hearing from God for another person. It is a spiritual gift meant to edify. This is where you speed up a bit, inviting them to come along. I'm almost embarrassed to say this because I feel my friends are much better at this than I am. I can attest though, as a recipient, that it is such a blessed gift. Several months ago I was having a bad day, I think I cried from the morning on. I texted a friend about my dilemma, and she literally showed up at my house unannounced, held my baby, helped me make dinner, and passed off a prophetic word. It made such an impact on me, I have it taped to my cabinets. She wrote all these things God was saying about me, and how He saw me, and in the moment it change the course of my day. Now, when a friend writes me with a bad day or a problem, I am quick to ask God what He's doing in their lives, how He sees them in that moment, and pass it on.

4. Celebrate the small stuff

Celebrate it all, actually. But, especially the small stuff. So much of parenting and life and spirituality is mastering the small stuff. I like to think of these tiny victories as little bricks going onto a foundation. They are indeed worth celebrating. One thing this does is takes the focus of all the big stuff that is dissolving in life (my four year old is not potty-trained!! My husband never listens! Whatever.) and you realize that Hey, I did my dishes today. I got out of my pajamas. I read my Bible. God spoke to me. The small stuff adds up.

5.Abandon fear.

When you are in the business of vulnerability, fear will rear its ugly head. It's impossible for it not to happen. Just because it's raises it's head, opens its jaws, and prepares to speak (or devour you) does not mean you have to engage it beyond rejection. Just say no. Choose love. Choose truth. Recently I spent time with one of my closest friends, but because we are always watching kids, we rarely ever go deep. So, during our recent hang out, alone, I shared as much as I could, and I assume she did as well. It was so much at one time, I got home and immediately assumed she hated me. I call this Vulnerability Hangover. It's a thing. I texted her and said, “I love you. Do you still love me?” She wrote back, “I still love you.” Love casts out fear. I am getting better and better at telling my friends that I love them, and it's scary. No joke. Sometimes I am tempted to write, “Love you.” Something about that I makes it a little too personal. It's a battle to fight with your closest friends, though. Move towards them in love. “I love you.” Try it. In a world where most learn to hold back love as a form of control, lavish it, if you have it to give.

“You use steel to sharpen steel, and so one friends sharpens another.” Proverbs 27:17

This is one of the more common friendship verses. If you are looking to study Biblical friendship in depth, a good start would be Jesus relating to his disciples, cleaning their feet. Or a study of Jonathan and David. Friendship has the capacity to be rich, deep, and intimate. You have to envision iron sharpening iron, though. Sparks flying. An intense buffering process. It can be painful sometimes, but the product is valuable and sharp. The process fits you for battle, which is a literal and metaphorical way of saying life.

Jesus was not afraid of the disciple's dirt. He chose them. He served them. He cried in front of them.

Jonathan humbled himself to the point of giving his birthright as king to his best friend, obedient to God, devoted to friendship.

I can honestly say that some of my friends have become sisters to me. Nothing is hidden. They know some of the deepest parts of my heart. Is that vulnerable? Of course it is. Is it scary? Well, yeah. But, I've heard it said that courage is not the absence of fear, it's the confrontation of it. Real friendships take courage to be seen in your weakness. The transformation that takes place is phenomenal. It is Divine. I can't explain it in any other terms. While time is important, it's not about the time spent together. It's really about moving towards one another in love, despite what you see, and despite what you feel at times. (Proverbs 17:17, "A friend loves at all times..." Surprise! Surprise! It's in the Bible!)

An obvious caveat here is to choose friends wisely. Relationships, especially deep and intimate ones, do not happen overnight. So while the person next to you at the supermarket has the capacity to become a close friend, it's probably not a good idea to tell them a deep secret. I can't really say how those conversations come about except that you'll know. I have my soul sisters, but I also have many friends who are just that, close friends. And, if we continue growing closer, I will share more and more. 

I also have to add this: I'm sorry. To all the friends over the years I have not been there for. To all the friends who spilled their hearts to me and I left them high and dry. To all the friends who I chose out of selfishness. To all the friends I raced, passed, or refused to pace with, I am sorry. It's tempting to include a couple hundred excuses, but none of them change the fact that I have hurt people.

If you have been hurt by me or others, don't let that stop you from pursuing healthy relationships. Kris Valloton says we find our destinies in community. So if you are searching for a purpose in life, maybe all you need is a good friend. It's worth the pain. It's worth the process. Find someone to pace through life with. 

Surrendering Control

 As of late, God has me on this vulnerability train. I can't explain it, but suddenly, being honest about myself feels less terrifying. In a terrifying sort of way, that is. By that mean I mean, to pull the heavy armor of self-preservation away is liberating, but to be exposed is frightening. Yet, God loves us, flaws and all, and the quicker we can rest in His acceptance, the quicker we are able to take a good, hard look at ourselves, at our flaws, and deal with them. You find the healing you need, a piece of your heart gets mended, you pass it on.

So while I'm on this vulnerability train, I want to divulge a process God has had me in for several years now: Surrendering control.

For my entire life, people have assumed because of my size that I must have an eating disorder. I have wanted to invite perfect strangers to my meals so they can see with their own two (nosy) eyes that I eat more than enough food. It's called metabolism. As I grew older, and the speculation continued, I began to think there must be a serious problem with me. Why couldn't I gain weight?

Soon words like thyroid and adrenals and gut health began to enter my vocabulary. I also had a history of food intolerances. Long story short, I quickly learned that some foods fed my health, and others starved it. The end. I sank into a lifestyle of Yes and No's when it came to my diet: Yes, I can have this. No, I cannot have that.

It was comfortable. Not to mention, God provided for all of my convictions. We had just enough money to purchase organic foods, and in months of lack, it seemed organic vegetables would appear on our doorstep (TRUE STORY). I had not a care in the world....until we went on vacation.

Vacation: when you just have to eat fast foods, sometimes. Vacation: when Daddy tells mommy to “loosen up.” Vacation: when it is nearly impossible to find gluten-free and hydrogenated oil-free foods. I became a very irritable, miserable, hungry woman on this trip, many years ago. By day two, I had only eaten kale with lemon juice on it (it's okay, you can laugh at me). I was trying so badly to heal my gut, I could not bring myself to eat a decent meal. I decided I would rather starve than eat something processed.

That's when my husband sat me down and told me he was pretty sure I had an eating disorder.

What?

Yes, I thought he was crazy. He was never on board with my food choices. He always thought it drained our budget. He hated sauerkraut. He thought bone broth smelt of dog poop. What does he know? But, after having a meltdown at Disney Land (THE HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH) because I couldn't find anything that I could eat, I began realizing that maybe my husband; my accusatory, non-supportive husband, could have a point.

And, everyone knows that admitting you have a problem is the first step to dealing with your problem.

 I dealt with mine by getting home as soon as possible and detoxing for a week.

Months passed by.

As part of my beliefs about food, I never rejected something offered to me. One night, we were at a friend's house and she prepared a non-organic pork loin in the crockpot. . I don't remember thinking this, but the truth of the matter was, I would have never purchased a non-organic pork loin at that time in my life. But, because she made it for my family, I ate it. A lot of it. I had like five servings. I was absolutely starving.

This was around the time I began to confess to my husband that I was going to need help. I talked to a mentor mom that I trusted. I told my best friend (the one who fixed me the pork!). And, I began to talk openly with God about it, owning my struggle. For me, that never meant surrendering my standards, it meant elevating my faith above food. 

Why is this story relevant now? 

Well, this week I am volunteering at VBS. I was mentally prepared not to eat a perfect diet. Pancakes for breakfast were going to happen. Doughnuts. Pizza for lunch. Bologna sandwiches. 

The first morning, the staff celebrated with doughnuts from a popular place in town. I grabbed one up, and decidedly split it in half. As I absolutely relished my doughnut ration, my best friend gasped, “Oh my gosh! You are eating a doughnut! Who are you?” I blinked twice. She says, "I'm so proud of you." 

I told my husband that afternoon, “Do you think I still have problems with food?” He laughed at me, “I think you're a prude...?”

Work in progress, right here.  

Allow me to emphatically say that when I ration food, refuse food, plan, and allow myself to feel consumed by guilt, I am not in faith. I am not trusting God. I am reigning with all of my might any bit of control I can gather. And the truth is, it's not that much. It's prideful and prudish. It's the pinnacle of self-preservation, the opposite of authenticity. It's entitlement. Most of all though, it's wretched, all-consuming fear.

As I prepared to write this blog, I heard God say SO clearly 1 Timothy 4. Here we go:

“For every creature of God is good, and nothing is to be refused if it is received with thanksgiving. For it is sanctified by the word of God and prayer. If you instruct the brethren of these things, you will be a good minister of Jesus Christ, nourished in the words of faith and of the good doctrine you have carefully followed....For bodily exercise profits a little, but godliness is profitable for all things, having promise of the life that is and of that which is to come....For to this end we both labor and suffer approach, because we trust in the living God, who is the savior of all men, especially those who believe.”

So, let's break this down: "Everything God created as food is good." Technically, Paul is talking about the old covenant of food laws being null. But, the principle is that food is sanctified by prayer. There is speculation that the old testament law was enforced to keep people from falling ill. Example, the people were told not to eat pigs because they fed on trash It was God's attempt at preserving their lives. In the New Testament, we are given authority over all things, including our food. We can bless it. Gratitude is also a necessary component of our meals, and we all know that gratitude is the most powerful weapon to wield against entitlement.

Then, I love the next line: "If you instruct others about this, you will be a good minister, nourished in the words of faith." NOURISHED. There is nothing more nourishing than faith. This has been my greatest tool in overcoming food control, planting my feet firmly in the gospel.

“...For bodily exercise profits little, but godliness is profitable for all things, having promise for life.”

You know, when I control food, it is an attempt to preserve my life. To be healthy. But, read this scripture carefully: godliness gives us the promise of life, and the life to come. It preserves our lives.

Notice Paul doesn't say that self-preservation and taking care of ourselves is not profitable at all. No, not that. But, it is only a little profitable. I also wonder how many of us grow ill or feel overcome by fatigue and think, "I just need to eat better." Maybe we do? Or, maybe we need to submit to the process of becoming more Christlike. 

Now, to finish up the scripture, "to what end do we labor? To what end do we suffer?"

Not starving ourselves.

Not hating our bodies.

Not shaming our children because of their food choices. 

Because we trust the living God. 

Now, I am not saying that we should not eat healthy. Trust me, I would never say that. There is however a risk for anything to elevate itself above God. That is called idolatry.

Idolatry is very dangerous. And, eating disorders are never about making food an idol. It's making yourself an idol. This leads me to James 3:15, “For where envy and self-seeking exist, confusion and every evil thing are there.”

So, we'll stop there. But, yikes. Every evil thing.

The answer is to not serve yourself, but serve God. Nourish yourself with faith. Pursue godliness. Have open conversations with God about your personal food convictions, and write them down. Ask yourself as you eat whether you have approached the meal in fear or faith. More than anything, take a deep breath and feel yourself float into His palm. He is fully trustworthy.