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.