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Entries in Friendship (5)


Changing our expectations of female friendships

Female friendship is something I have given a lot of thought to. My first very good friend was a boy, and I grew up with three older brothers. I had more male cousins than female cousins. In my middle school years, I was a tomboy, but I had female friends. That changed dramatically in 8th grade. I did have one or two good friends, but after I left Alberta in 1982, where I left the only close female friend I had in high school, I never really had many female friends until I became a mother.

In the past couple of months Tim Challies has linked articles about female friendships. The first was called When There is Unexplained Distance in a Friendship, and the other Lonely For a Friend? Here's One Thing That Might Help.

They got me thinking.

When I moved here in 1996, I did not want to be here. I had, for the first time, a good female friend, and I was sad to leave her. I found myself in sizeable church, but extremely lonely. Yes, part of it was my fault. I tried to fit in with the women, however, but it was not easy moving into a new church where one's mother-in-law is one of the most beloved members of the congregation. Everyone just assumed that she was taking care of me. And sometimes, friendship circles can be exclusive. I'll never forget attempting to join a group of women at prayer meeting (why must women and men pray separately? I'll never understand that) and being told that their circle was full, and I should join a different one.

I had my children, and I focused on them. But I was still very lonely. I observed the close female friendships, some which had lasted for many years, and wondered what was wrong with me. I reached a point where I prayed to God and said, "Lord, I don't have any friends, but I have my family and I have you, and if you want that to be enough, that's fine with me." And it was. And I did make a few friends, but something even better began: deeper study in God's Word. That was really when I began to study seriously.

One of the things that I did wrong was looking at other friendships, and I think that is a temptation we all face. Friendships between women on the cover of Christian magazines and advertisements for women's events may be real for some women. There are some women who have a circle of female friends and they tell each other their burdens, and they go on holidays together, and attend each other's dinner parties. But that is not everyone's experience. I think somewhere in there the idea that being more outgoing is more spiritual has convinced some of us that unless we have a circle of Christian girlfriends, we're failing somehow. In all honesty, being friends with women is rather frightening to me at times, and attending events designed for women leaves me anxious.

A couple of weeks ago, D.A. Carson was at my school speaking, and there were 500 people there. At the most, there were 50 women there. I felt less fear walking into a room of hundreds of men than a group of 30 women. When there are men there, there is no expectation that I must mingle and make a new BFF. I can just sit and be quiet and wait. And in a lovely turn of events, another woman saw me sitting alone and joined me, and lo and behold, I found out she knew my husband's grandmother. 

Part of me struggles to trust women. I have had a few bad experiences, and yes, that is something I need to get over. But at the same time, I don't think every woman has to have a large circle of female friends. I need to focus on the women God has placed in my life, regardless of age and circumstance, and without any thought of what is in it for me. Quite simply, I've been reminded to live out the truth that one must first be a good friend. One of the articles I linked above echoes those sentiments.

I cannot help but wonder if we're expecting too much. Compared to women even 75 years ago, we have so much time on our hands, and filling them with friends is a natural desire. But if we aren't traveling with an entourage of female friends, and are content with one or two, I think that's okay. And although people tell me that my husband can't really be my best friend, I'm afraid he is.

This past week, I was showered with love and care from three ladies at my church who brought food. Two of them arranged for me to be picked up and driven home from a hair appointment I'd had scheduled. We are good friends. I don't see my friends a lot. They are busy women, with aging parents, adult children, and jobs. To expect me to be the centre of their world is unreasonable. I'm learning to change my expectations of female friendships. And the changes, as cliché  as it sounds, start with my own attitude.


Be in touch with your mortality

Today is the second anniversary of the death of my husband's friend. They went to high school together, and were each other's best man when they married. He was a firefighter, but he did not die as a result of his work. He died from a heart attack at the age of 53, leaving behind three kids and a wife.

When he died, my husband grieved, of course. This was his friend, after all. And it hits close to home when a friend dies. This is the first of our friends to die, and as I attended the funeral, I thought to myself that there would only be more occasions such as this.

Over the past number of months, I have thought a lot about death. There are people in my local church who are sick, some with very serious, and ultimately, terminal consequences. There are some younger people suffering. With the good health that we enjoy here in North America, we tend to see death as something for older people. My next door neighbour is 91 years old, and still mowing his own law, albeit, not with nearly as much precision as he used to. Sometimes, it doesn't make sense that my neighbour lives so long, yet my friend is a widow at such a young age. But that is just how life works. God has his reasons for calling some home earlier than others. That sounds trite, but it is true.

It's crucial that we be aware of our mortality. Sometimes, when we're young we don't live like we're going to die. And it's not just teenagers who think they're immortal. Even older people, married with children, can live that way. When we live with the knowledge that this life is temporary, it ought to dictate how we live while God gives us breath.

There are days when I wonder what would have happened if instead of staying home full-time with my children I had juggled both career and family. There are days when I think to myself that I haven't done so many things I wanted to. I had occasion to be working with a younger woman, and she was a little too conscious of the fact that despite me being almost 20 years older, she was directing me. It was actually a little condescending. She had achieved more of a career than I ever will, and was a mother at the same time. I found myself feeling kind of bad about myself. 

On days like today, though, when I see what my friend remembers about her husband, and what I remember about her husband, it isn't the career he had that stands out. It was the man he was. He was a godly husband and father. He was a good friend. He cared about people. He loved his family. I assume he was a well-liked employee judging from presence of other firefighters at the funeral, and the testimony of his co-workers. But the kind of firefighter he was depended on the man he was; he was a humble, godly man.

We chase after a lot of things. Sometimes they're good things. But sometimes, we're chasing shadows, and don't even see it because we don't have a proper perspective on what we're doing here and where we're going. People who have experienced physical suffering or watched a loved one die young have this figured out, but for those of us who haven't experienced death in that way, it takes a little longer.

As I have been reading a few books this summer, many common themes have dovetailed: the kingdom of God, the pursuit of holiness, the sovereignty of God, the sufficiency of Christ, the need for daily interaction with God's Word. These are the things we should be chasing. They're right there for us to grasp a hold of. Those are the things that will endure, regardless of any other achievements. Everything else is secondary.


A book or a girlfriend?

A number of years ago, I recommended a book to someone. It was by J.I. Packer. I really loved it, so felt free to recommend it. The person to whom I recommended it did not like it. When I asked why, the response was that it wasn't "friendly" enough. When I asked for clarification, she answered, "I want to read a book by someone who if I met in real life we'd be friends." I was a little surprised at that response, but I have often seen that she is not the only one who shares that sentiment. And many of the books for women by women seem to want to offer that.

I recently picked up a book (which shall remain nameless) directed to women. I got about three chapters into and became bored. There is nothing wrong with the content, really. I just don't like the folksy presentation. The writer writes as if she's having a conversation with a friend. I kept waiting for an "Isn't that right, girlfriend?" to pop up in the text. 

Now, if you like that kind of book, that is just fine. I don't. I like well-written books and I like books whose writers are eloquent, but I don't really care for books where the writer acts as if she knows me and we're friends. I don't expect to be friends with the author, and if we never meet or are never friends, I'm okay with that. Many of my favourite writers are dead, so I have no expectation of meeting them. And if I saw one of my favourite living authors in an airport somewhere, I would not run over and introduce myself. I don't do that kind of thing. In some cases, I am indeed friends with someone who wrote a book, and that's a real blessing. But I knew her before she was an author, and would have been her friend even if she hadn't written a great book.

This leaves me to wonder if one of the reasons why Christian women buy so many books (good or bad alike) is because they're looking for friendship in a book. Are we actually looking more for a personal connection as opposed to understanding? Are we too busy to foster friendships, or reluctant to ask our pastor, a friend, or our husbands for counsel? So we turn to a book?

The past month I have struggled with sleep and a few other health issues. I've done my share of online searches to get counsel. Yesterday, because of the lack of sleep, I felt drained and discouraged. I could feel anxiety pressing in on me. I finally told myself after lunch to get off the internet. Instead, I sought the counsel of a real, live, in the flesh friend. And she, in love, gave me the best counsel I could ever want. 

I know this woman. I've worked with her, served with her, prayed with her, laughed with her, and wept with her. While getting counsel from books is great, I sometimes wonder if we aren't looking for too much in their pages. How many personal struggles could we keep to ourselves, never talking to anyone about them because we can just read books about them? How often do these books we read to get counsel from prevent us from searching the Scriptures ourselves? Or pray about the matter?  I wish some enterprising sociologist would write a book about the reading habits of Christian women. I'd read it.

I like books. I like good books. But I'm not concerned about getting a buddy out of every reading experience. A book can be a good friend, but there's nothing like a living friend.


Oh, that I had wings like a dove!

One of the saddest of the lament Psalms is Psalm 55. It opens immediately with a plea:

Give ear to my prayer, O God,
and hide not yourself from my plea for mercy

The sadness is apparent through words like "anguish," (v.4), "terrors," (v.4), and "horror," (v.4)

He longs to fly away:

And I say, "Oh, that I had wings like a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest;
yes, I would wander far away;
I would lodge in the wilderness;
I would hurry to find shelter from the ranging wind and tempest. 

Can you relate to that? I think we have all felt like that. It is such a vivid picture; to rise from our situation and soar above it, leaving behind the storm, and finding rest in more verdant places.

The worst part is that the cause of the lament is a friend. In v. 12, we learn his identity:

For it is not an enemy who taunts me --
then I could bear it;
it is not an adversary who deals insolently with me --
then I could hide from him.
But it is you, a man, my equal,
my companion, my familiar friend.
We used to take sweet counsel together;
within God's house, we walked in the throng.

It is a painful thing to have a friend turn his back on us. Perhaps we discover that our friend has revealed a confidence, betrayed a trust, or repeated gossip about us. Perhaps she has just stopped calling, and we rack our brains to know why our friend has seemed to have rejected us. It's one thing to be rejected by a stranger or someone we aren't close to; it's another when it's someone we love. It is at those moments when we must be really careful not to let it consume us.

The solution, of course, comes in v. 16, with another of those beautiful "buts" found in the Psalms: But I call to God, and the Lord will save me.

Ultimately, God is the comfort we will need. It may not be easy, and our sense of justice may want to take action, but if our friend has sinned against us, God's justice will be meted out. There are times when we wil never know what has happened or why, and sometimes, we have to let things drop.

The advice in v. 22 is simple, but the only real solution:

Cast your burdens on the Lord,
and he will sustain you;
he will never permit
the righteous to be moved.

When friendships fracture, we have to avoid sin ourselves. It may be hard. We may feel bitter. We may want to take matters into our own hands, but that could get very messy. Sometimes, confronting a friend doesn't go well, and we may realize we should have remained silent. We have to remember that Christ knows what it is like to have his friends turn on him. When that happened to him, he cast himself upon the mercy of his Father. And as hard as it may be, that is what we need to do.

When we grieve over lost relationships, we can speak Psalm 55 aloud. It gives us words to express our sorrow. There is just so much we cannot control, and in real life, unlike movies and novels, perfect reconciliation often does not occur. This may sound like a depressing thought. But these situations are the stuff of real life. And the beauty is that God will sustain us. That's really all we need in the moment: to be sustained. He will not let us be moved. It doesn't meant it will be easy, but in the end, we will see how faithful God is, and that's a good thing.


To be the perfect friend

Many years ago, I was in a friendship that ended badly. All relationships have their ups and downs, but this one could only be classified as toxic. It started out very well, and then deterioriated.

How can you walk away from a friend?

There was no open conflict for a long time. I told myself to overlook the offenses and the way she manipulated. I needed to be more forebearing, more loving. When I discovered quite by accident that my situation with her was only one in a long line of similar ones with other women, I began to wonder if perhaps I wasn't all to blame. My husband said he thought I should consider just stepping back. I found that hard to contemplate. I couldn't bear the thought of giving up. Surely, walking away from a friend meant I had not loved enough. 

I finally had to confront her about an issue, and was met with a cold, hard stare. She wouldn't speak to me after that. Now the feeling of failure really did set in. It was only after quite a number of years of distance that I finally understood that I could not be the perfect friend. I could not love enough to make the necessary difference. For a long time, that bothered me, but when I realized that it actually revealed my own pride, it was easier to accept what had happened. I was indeed culpable, but perhaps not in the way I thought.

God reassures our hearts

Recently, I was reading I John 3, the passage about love. Christ laid down his life for the brothers, and we are to do the same (I John 3:16-18). This is, in fact, the way we know we abide in Him. Later in this passage (I John 3:18-24), John provides comfort for those who feel their heart condemning them in this area of love. He reminds the readers that whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater, and knows everything. God knows our motives. We may carry guilt because we feel like we have not loved enough, but God knows our hearts better.

In the context of this passage, Karen Jobes in her commentary on I John, has some wise words about this issue:

God recognizes that our flawed, inadequate attempts to love others are genuine acts of faith and love. He knows all about people we attempt to love and the situations that have given rise to their needs. Our attempt to respond to another's need may be misguided or miscalculated. The person we try to love may rebuff our good intent. Our loving act may actually flow from motives that are not unmixed with selfishness or our own needs. There are many reasons why even our best acts may leave us feeling unsettled, unsure, and confused inside. Love can be complicated, and God knows that; his own love for the world has been misunderstood, rebuffed, and rejected. Still, he continues to love his creation by providing what we need to sustain life physically and spiritually.

The apostle knows that his readers need to quiet their hearts in order to continue in their faith in Christ and in their love for others. For a heart that constantly accuses us of disappointing God will erode our resolve to love.

Love is non-negotiable for the Christian

We can love others without expectation, squash our feelings of being offended, and offer as much of our hearts as we can, and things can still go wrong. But God knows our hearts. We should be encouraged by John's words, that God knows our hearts, and that he can wash away any lingering guilt. Guilt can make us build walls without our even realizing it, and we may be reluctant to love others. That must not be; love a non-negotiable for the Christian. John has just made that clear. But God can reassure our hearts, and that's a wonderful truth.