What friendship costs…

We stood between the aisles in the local grocery store. I’m an expert avoider, but I turned the corner and almost bumped into an old… friend. Well, not really a friend. Someone who once attended church with me. I asked about her children, her husband, herself. She asked about mine. We are all fine, we agreed and rolled our carts down the way. 

Isn’t that the case. Fine is the thin veneer we use in social situations to keep others at arms distance.  The truth is, I would have said I was fine if my hair had been on fire. The distance between us left little room for warmth or vulnerability. It wasn’t that I disliked her, I simply didn’t know her. Not really. I have learned it is possible to know someone for a very long time, and yet, never really know them.

This is actually how I gauge the intimacy of my relationships. Are these people I can allow to see me when I’m not fine. Not to just tell them about it, but to actually allow them into the dusty corners and slippery areas of my soul while I struggle. And do they allow me to know them that way as well. 

A few months ago, a very dear friend wandered in to a deeply wounded day with my heart. She took a deep breath, spoke serious truth into my life, and loved me completely. I walked away from that interaction strengthened by her fierce love for me and encouraged by her strong words. This, I believe is friendship at its very best. 

This kind of friendship costs something. It takes courage and comes with great risk. She stood with me and reminded me of the truth when my heart denied its value. She looked past the momentary flash of passion and stood her ground for me. My eyes burn when I think of the courage and love she exhibited that day (and others) and the ways it has helped to shore up weak areas ever since. 

I want to be that kind of friend. On the dark days, in the middle of the storms of life, I want to be someone who can be trusted to show up and speak truth. I want to trust the love of my people enough to make myself vulnerable… if it will help. I want to be someone who can be trusted in the dark alleys of the soul. 

• To risk loss that another might gain. 
• To risk missing the mark and trusting that the effort will be received with love. 
• To risk the blowback of big emotions. 
• To risk vulnerability for the good of my people. 

I am so grateful for the brave souls who have wandered into my life and made themselves at home. They give me the courage to be the friend I long to be, and taught me that the cost of friendship is worth it.