The Gift Of Friendship

The heartfelt counsel of a friend is as sweet as perfume and incense.

DRAWING A DEEP BREATH to calm my nerves, I reached for the door of our local Red Lobster. I’d been invited to Girlfriend Christmas, and I was suddenly a bit bashful standing on the cusp of yet another new experience with my glittery gift bag and cute outfit. I needn’t have worried though.

“Hi, Julie!” my friends warmly greeted me as I entered.

As a newlywed twentysomething, I had moved with my husband to a new community with new careers and a new church, and I was the new girl in a Tuesday afternoon Bible study meeting around Katrina’s (Kendra and Kristin’s sister) kitchen table.

That Bible study had started Girlfriend Christmas a year before, and what I didn’t know as I crossed that doorway into Red Lobster was that this event was about to become a beloved tradition—in that form—for the next fifteen years.

Every year, we ate Cheddar Bay Biscuits, opened presents as part of our not-so-secret Santa gift exchange, posed for a photo in front of the lobster tank, visited Santa at the mall, and tried on the most ridiculous adult onesie pajamas we could find at Target. We laughed until we cried, and in the years after Katrina died, we sometimes cried until we laughed as we reminisced over funny stories and happy memories.

Girlfriend Christmas was our event—time and space intentionally set aside in which, over the years, we bought one another candles, chocolate, fuzzy socks, lotion, and anything else that reminded each of us that we were seen and loved. We were celebrating our friendship: a group of women who loved one another, covered one another in prayer, and showed up for one another, albeit imperfectly.

And while that version of Girlfriend Christmas has become a beloved memory that I grow a bit misty-eyed over each December, I have not let go of celebrating my female friendships in ordinary, precious ways all year long.

We’ve snatched moments after bedtimes for phone calls and sent video messages to one another so we can see beloved faces, no matter how many states separate us. We’ve piled six toddlers into the basement playroom and visited as we sat in the midst of utter (mostly happy) chaos. We’ve met at libraries and splash pads and on soccer field sidelines. We’ve manned the grill and washed the dishes at one another’s parties so the hostess could focus on entertaining her guests. We’ve wept over one another, running to the rescue in person and in prayer. And we’ve rejoiced with one another, celebrating big anniversaries and successes with cake and flowers and fancy home-cooked meals.

Healthy friendships and supportive community are not the fluff of life—something lovely to be indulged in when time allows and the first to be neglected when life gets hard. They are essential to our journey, bringing joy and laughter but also encouragement and support. It’s been my friends who’ve gently held me accountable in my marriage and my parenting, who’ve seen the best in me and called it out, who’ve told me to chase my dreams, and who've inquired whether I currently had a good work-life balance and what I was going to let go when I confessed to overwhelm.

When I think of biblical friendship, I immediately think of the relationship between Ruth and Naomi, shown in the Old Testament book of Ruth. Ruth was Naomi’s daughter-in-law, and after the two of them became widowed in Moab, they journeyed back to the land of Judah, Naomi’s homeland. It is a story of inconsolable grief, bitterness, anger at God, hope, faith, joy, restoration, and redemption, culminating in Ruth’s marriage to Boaz and inclusion in the lineage of Jesus Christ with the birth of their son Obed.

The story of Ruth and Naomi illustrates the power of friendship as they filled one another’s knowledge gaps, cultural experience gaps, and even emotional and physical gaps. When one woman began to despair, the other was there to encourage and keep them both moving forward. They pushed and pulled one another, first back to Judah and then into survival as widowed women living there, until the entry of Boaz as the kinsman-redeemer for, ultimately, both of them. It’s a gorgeous story of female friendship bridging cultures and languages, as well as a sizable age gap.

Another, less well-known image of the power of community is found in Exodus 17:8-14. During the battle against the Amalekites, Moses stood with the staff of God atop a hill overlooking Joshua as he and the Israelites fought. As long as Moses kept the staff of God raised above his head, the Israelites gained ground, but as his arms grew weary and his hands lowered the staff, the Amalekites would advance. Aaron and Hur, seeing Moses’ struggle, brought a rock for him to sit upon and, each taking an arm, kept that staff raised above his head until the battle was won by Joshua at sunset.

The ultimate success of both Ruth and Moses was only possible with the help of Naomi, Hur, and Aaron. God’s plans prevailed not because of who Ruth and Moses were but because Naomi, Hur, and Aaron walked alongside them, providing emotional and physical support and lending their strength and knowledge to the situation. Ruth’s and Moses’ stories are but two of many in Scripture showing the importance of friendship and the strength found in healthy community.

It took me far too long to understand that friendship and community are not just a lovely, optional part of life but a powerful, essential gift from God. And each relationship is as varied and different as we are. Some relationships are only for a season based upon mutual interests, proximity, circumstance, and life stage, with others enduring decades or even entire lifetimes.

Also, as children of God, it’s important to remember that sometimes we are called to be the inviters and the includers, even if we are the new ones in our neighborhood or workplace, with a cultural expectation that others will invite us.

As children of God, it’s up to us to keep our circles open, asking God who he might be sending our way as we walk through church lobbies and attend the annual women’s Christmas Tea instead of giving in to the comfortable temptation of sitting with the girls we already know and love.

Let’s face it: strong friendships and strong community lend an extra twinkle to our Advent merriment, so let’s tell our friends how much we love them with as much glitter as possible. (I’m kidding; the only thing worse than glitter is the plastic Easter grass I keep finding six months later!)

Heavenly Father, for those struggling in friendship, we come alongside them in prayer that you will heal rifts, provide discernment about when to let go, and help them to find new, enduring friendships after moves, after major life events, and in times when it feels hard to make friends. Help us to love our friends with wild abandon, celebrating their victories as though they were our victories and mourning their losses as though they were ours. May we celebrate our friendships this Advent as the precious, spiritually powerful gifts you intended them to be. Amen.