"On Making Friends"
Last week in Part I of our series, "30 Things I've Learned in 30 Years," we talked about three simple pieces of advice to keep in mind as we grow into adulthood. But part of that process we didn't explore is how to navigate the complexities of human relationships. The truth is human beings need each other. And not just for survival, but for flourishing as well.
After God created Adam in Genesis 2:7, He noted in verse 18 that it was not good for the man be alone. Even though Adam had face-to-face relationship with God, this was the first thing in His new creation that God declares is not good. Man needed another human being like himself (and also made in God's image...Genesis 1:27) to help him execute God's will (Genesis 1:28). So God created Woman.
Whether you're married or single, Scripture is clear that humans need each other to experience the fullness of what God has for us. This is true for families, friendships, business relationships, etc. Many times this human interdependence feels really wonderful and satisfying! But also, because sin has wounded organic, human intimacy (Genesis 3:7), sometimes the nuances of human relationship can also feel really messy or even painful.
Originally, this post was going to be Part II in a three-part series called "On Navigating Relationships". However, as I was writing this, I found that I just have so much to say on this subject that can't be contained to one post. So apparently, we're now dividing Part II into a few sub-posts about navigating different complexities in different types of relationships. I decided I can do that because the purpose of this blog is to help me practice writing (#sorrynotsorry, y'all!).
So on that note, strap in, my friend, and let's talk more about what God has taught me over the last 30 years about making friendships.
5. Make friends with people who enjoy silliness.
As a rule of thumb, I err on the side of being a more serious person. Don't get me wrong; I definitely know how to have fun! I laugh with my people constantly, and going on adventures is one of my favorite things to do. But I'm better suited to be the friend with whom you can process deep conversations than the friend with whom you can have spontaneous dance parties.
As you'll discover on this blog, the memories of my early 20's are stained with a lot of internal darkness. Because I waded knee-deep in self-condemnation every day, I thought I wasn't allowed to have fun. I thought fun was for happy people who had their lives together, and the possibility of me being permitted fun made me feel like an uninvited imposter at the masquerade ball.
But also during this time, Jesus was moving in my life in a paradigm-shifting way. In my freshman year of college, Jesus called me to re-surrender my life to Him, join a huge, co-ed, collegiate Christian ministry, and join a women's Bible study. Within that ministry, Jesus mercifully blessed me with a big group of friends who all loved Him. They always did the most ridiculous things together, and thankfully, they forced me to join them. Through their frequent and loving persistence, I spent years dressing up with them for countless costume parties, creating millions of inside jokes, and laughing so hard my cheeks hurt.
If you're like me and you've ever fought through prolonged seasons of sadness, then sweet friend, I'm giving you permission to laugh. Life is too hard not to laugh. Proverbs 17:22 says, "A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a broken spirit saps a person's strength." Even though Jesus actually promises us we will experience suffering as we follow Him (John 16:33; 1 Peter 4:12-13), He's also the God Who created enjoyment to bless us in our body and soul. So with this in mind, take the ancient advice of Solomon (Ecclesiastes 8:15), the wisest king who ever lived (1 Kings 4:29-34) , and go create some fun in your life.
6. Choose friends who love you enough to challenge you.
It's so easy in the 2020's to accidentally trap yourself in an echo chamber. Honestly, what's more affirming than your favorite people telling you to "live your truth" as if everything you do is morally right? Not much! However, some of the seasons in which I've grown the most as a Christ-follower have been sparked by my loving friends using their sharp tongues to call me out into the light (Proverbs 27:5-6).
Enter Nenita (pictured above). God brought Nenita into my life long before I ever knew the wisdom of doing my life with someone like her. During the years my husband, B, and I volunteered with the high school ministry that later employed us, Nenita trained us both how to share the Gospel, disciple high school students, and teach Bible studies. After she and I would minister to the girls together, we'd frequently grab a bite to eat, and she'd ask me how my heart was doing. As time went on, I started to trust her and seek her wise counsel on my struggles. Those simple conversations led to years of discipleship that cemented the foundation for my entire walk with Christ.
During one particular season underneath Nenita's discipleship, I was foolishly engaging in sexual sin. This was an old temptation, birthed with an ex-boyfriend during high school...the years, with blind rage, that I emotionally and spiritually shut Jesus out of my life. But by this season, I'd been walking with Him again for about six months. However, the constant caving into temptation buried me beneath a mountain of shame, and I glued my lips shut so no one could know the depths of my disgust. This façade seemed to work for a while...until the Holy Spirit commanded me to confess my sin to Nenita.
A couple days later at our high school ministry's weekly meeting, I tepidly tiptoed up to Nenita and told her I needed to talk. We stepped into a side room, and with palms sweating and heart racing, I shakily admitted to her all the sexual things I'd done in the last several months. With her eyes fixated on me and her face soft (but stern), Nenita responded:
"Okay, Hannah, thank you for telling me this. Do you know what we're going to do now? We're going to get on our knees, right here in this room, and go before the Lord's throne together in prayer. You're going to confess this sin to the Lord, and I'm going to be with you as your witness."
I couldn't breathe; all the air sapped right out of my lungs.
"Nenita," I trembled, "I can't talk to God right now. I can't even pray at all. I can't tell Him what I've done...it's too much."
"Hannah," she warmly answered, "you must. You need to be free of this sin, and this is how this starts." I knew she was right. This is why God urged me to tell her. So with hands interlocked, we bowed our knees before the Lord. And because of this confession to my trusted friend, on an otherwise ordinary night, God began to unlock the metallic chains of sin and shame in me, link by link (James 5:16).
I definitely have many other instances in my life where Nenita and my other loved ones called me out from hiding or laid bare my sins. But this time was special because it was the first time. Hebrews 3:12-13 says, "Be careful then, dear brothers and sisters. Make sure that your own hearts are not evil and unbelieving, turning you away from the living God. You must warn each other every day, while it is still 'today,' so that none of you will be deceived by sin and hardened against God." True freedom is free to blossom out of safe exposure with a true friend. So take it from me, my friend; step out of the echo chamber, spill your tea to a "no" friend you can trust, and watch yourself bloom.
7. Friendship dynamics change (and sometimes end), and it will be okay.
There is a particular kind of grief we don't talk about much in the Church: the sadness that comes when relationships change. It's different than the grief we feel when someone physically dies. This subtle form of mourning comes with the apparent parting of a living person, and it's an odd kind of pain.
One night, during the last months of my senior year of college, my Bible study leader huddled us girls together like baby chicks into her living room with a prepared farewell speech. We'd poured our souls out to each other every week for four years, and with many tears and baited breath, we knew our time was almost up. Our leader tenderly cautioned us that after graduation, our friendships with one another would shift as adult responsibilities would settle in. She challenged us to keep pursuing each other as often as we could, but she also challenged us to take what we'd built together as friends and create that kind of intimacy with new people we would meet. I didn't know it at the time, but that advice held me close as all my relationships changed for the next nine years.
By May 2014, I graduated college and took several cap-and-gown pictures with my friends. The next day, we all went to church together like normal, but my leader's advice suddenly came to fruition. After the service as we walked outside, one of my guy friends said to us, "Well, guys, it's been really great. But I guess we're all moving home now, so it's time to really say goodbye." I suddenly burst into tears; the time was now. We all hugged and cried together, and then took the picture above. That was the last time many of us were physically together or even spoke to each other. As sad as it is, my friend was right: relationships can come with an expiration date.
The next year in 2015, I married B. And even though I still consistently pursued friendships with my girl friends, my life with B became my priority. Marriage is lovely, but it also proved to be disillusioning and hard (more on this later). I felt this the most in 2016, and that was also the year I attended 10 of my friends' weddings, toasting their new lives with their new priorities, their husbands. This produced a surprisingly deep sense of loneliness within me. In 2018, B and I moved cross-country to Los Angeles to do high school ministry, and we said physical goodbyes to our dearest friends. Then, after building a wonderful life in Los Angeles with new people, the Lord suddenly closed the door on our time there. We moved back to the South in early 2020, forcing us to say more physical goodbyes to even more friends. Finally, most of our friends began having multiple kids of their own, and our currently-childless selves had to readjust expectations with them once again.
During these years of constant geographic and relational shift, the Holy Spirit has consistently reminded me of one, central truth: "It is the LORD Who goes before you. He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed (Deuteronomy 31:8 ESV)." Ah, yes, the LORD. When Scripture writes His Name out in all-caps, that Name translated in Hebrew is Yahweh. YH (inhale) WH (exhale), originally meant to be spoken like a clean breath. This is the Name God refers to Himself when He's reminding His people that He will never break faithfulness or relationship with them. The Bible promises me the LORD is my greatest companion, no matter my address, my marital status, or the names of my tribesmen. Jesus Himself calls me His friend in John 15:15 and His home in John 18:23 ESV. In Exodus 33:14, Yahweh promises me through His words to the prophet, Moses, that "My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest." My years spent grieving the shifting dynamics or endings of my friendships have certainly taken these truths off the pages of my Bible and written them into the depths of my heart.
And yet, because God still declares that it's not good for man to be alone, Yahweh has shown me how in every season He faithfully gives His children flourishing friendships with one another for our comfort and our growth (Ecclesiastes 4:9-12, Psalm 55:14, Galatians 6:1-2). No matter how lonely or interconnected your relational seasons may seem, Your Heavenly Father sees you completely. And He swears by His own Name to provide tangible, human companionship for you and be your deepest friend everywhere you go.
If I had to identify a congruent theme for today's post, I'd say it mostly described a sample of different types of friendships and how they can change. But since we barely scratched the surface of this topic, several follow-up questions come to my mind. Like how do we navigate hurt in friendships? And how can we build friendships with people who think differently than us? And, finally, is it possible for friendships to endure the test of time? I've wrestled through all these questions over the years, and I've successfully built some really satisfying, complex, long-term friendships with people who think differently than me. So if you've asked yourself these questions too, stay tuned for next week as we briefly address how to navigate these hurdles and find the joy of human companionship in the body of Christ!
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