As I am writing this, one of my best friends is packing up to move 200 miles away. (There might be a few tears on my keyboard. I wonder if that’s covered under the protection plan?) I know we will remain friends and visit and text and call, but it won’t quite be the same.
Earlier this week I visited another “bestie”– one I used to see almost every day–until I moved 260 miles away from her. Spending time with her made me realize how much I miss having her close.
Needless to say, it’s been an emotional week. I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on all the amazing women I have deep, intimate friendships with and what makes them so special to me. Why did these particular women go from, “I’m Jennifer, nice to meet you” to becoming the ones I can text at 2 am? What was it about them, or me, or us together that knit our hearts so tightly?
Compatibility might play a role. My closest friends and I do have several things in common–demanding careers, motherhood, our faith in Jesus Christ, to name a few. But we also have plenty of differences.
Shared experience is another possibility. Some of my friends and I have supported each other through the pain of infertility and have adopted children at the same time. Some of us have faced losing our husbands and marriages. But not all my friends and I have connected through difficult circumstances.
I really wanted to understand what bonds me to these special women.
And what I think it all boils down to is this: we give each other a safe place to land and push each other to be more like Jesus.
Unequivocally I trust my dearest friends with the worst of me–my messes, my flaws, my failures, my poor decisions, my indecision, my true self. And they let me see the same. What a relief to be less than perfect with someone! And what a blessing to see others aren’t perfect either. They don’t make me feel shame or guilt when I screw up. They never dismiss my feelings or thoughts. They acknowledge. They empathize. They simply accept and love me–all of me.
Brené Brown has made a career of researching, writing and speaking about the power of vulnerability. In her book, Daring Greatly, she states…”true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world.” My best friends and I have presented our authentic selves to each other and belong to each other because we have done so.
But my greatest friends, the ones who have seen the ugly cries, the girls I can text or call at any hour, they embrace my vulnerability and then challenge me in it.
Just as Jesus loves us too much to leave us in our brokenness, friends who love like Jesus won’t let us stay there either.
Because I have shown them my true self, they can see when I’m not being honest. Because I have shared my deepest fears, they can point out when I’m reacting out of that fear. Because I have told them my weaknesses, they can discern when I’m at risk.
Proverbs 27:17 tells us “Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another.”
Deep, Christ-like friendship is a sharpening. To have friends like I’m describing is a tool God uses in our sanctification. And to be a friend like I’m describing is to be used by God in the work of His kingdom.
I found one other commonality as I reflected on the blessings of my friends. They were answers to specific prayers. Maybe you are reading this and feel like you don’t have even one true friend. Can I encourage you to pray for one? And then can I encourage you to pursue who you feel God is drawing you toward? Be the one to take the first step. Yes, it is a risk. Vulnerability is a risk. But the forever friend you could gain is so worth it …yes, even if they move to another state.