Personal Blogs

"The disciple whom Jesus loved."

Image generated with the assistance of Microsoft Copilot

Throughout my life, I’ve let go of friends, not with bitterness, nor in haste, but with the slow, certain pull of time and truth. There’s a kind of mourning in it, a quiet ache, yet also a breath of renewal, it’s like walking out of a room that has grown too small and breathing in wide, open air.

When I was younger, friendships came easily. A shared laugh, a nearby desk, a common hobby — those were enough, or at least they seemed so. But as the years slipped by, I found that companionship alone could not fill the deeper spaces of the heart. Real friendship, I realized, isn’t just about enjoying someone’s presence; it’s a shared loyalty to something larger than ourselves, notably truth, goodness and  loyalty to the things that still matter long after the laughter fades.

C.S. Lewis once said, in The Four Loves, that friendship is born when one soul says to another, “What! You too? I thought I was the only one.” It’s that glimpse of a common truth, a shared vision, that binds people deeper than circumstance ever could. And when that shared glimpse fades — or was never truly there — even the easiest friendships eventually wither.

Even in a Christian life, where love for all is our call, not every bond is meant for intimacy. Love is owed to everyone; closeness is a stewardship. Even Jesus, loving with a perfect heart, drew nearer to some more than others. Among the Twelve, there was John — “the disciple whom Jesus loved” — a quiet closeness Scripture hints at but does not fully unfold. Jesus loved them all. Yet with John, there was something different: a deeper resonance, a knowing beyond words.

I think of that often, when I feel the pull to step closer to some and quietly part from others. It isn’t a failure of love; it’s honouring the rare gift that true friendship is: a joining of hearts chasing the same light.

Some friends I left behind because our paths no longer bent toward the same truth. Some ties were nothing more than nostalgia wrapped in the illusion of love. Others slowly showed a dissonance too deep for even kindness to bridge. In letting them go, I’ve made space for what is real, companions who hunger for the same kingdom, whose eyes are softened by the same mercy.

There’s no anger in it, only gratitude for the good memories, and for the clearer path ahead.

I’ve come to believe we are shaped by those we walk with. And as the years gather behind me, I find I have less patience for those who tread lightly over sacred things. To love all is a command; to choose friends with care is a sacred task.

"One wants to be love, failing that, admired… 

One wants to inspire some sort of sentiment. 

The soul recoils from a void and desires contact at any price."

Hjalmar Söderberg — Doctor 

Image generated with the assistance of Copilot

 “A friend loves at all times.” 

—Proverbs 17:17

Friendship has always been one of life’s greatest gifts, but it’s also one of the most fragile. It’s built on a foundation of trust, and once that foundation is shaken, even in the slightest, the bond can falter. I learned this lesson the hard way some years ago when a trusted friend betrayed me. I had been warned by others that this person was saying unkind things behind my back. Hearing such news stung deeply, and it taught me an invaluable lesson: trust is sacred. From that moment on, I became far more cautious about whom I confide in.

Friendship, at its best, feels effortless—a natural connection between two people. But as effortless as it may seem, it requires careful attention. There are unspoken rules, codes of conduct if you will, that keep a friendship healthy and enduring.

One of these rules is taking an interest in your friend's world, even if it’s unfamiliar to you. A friend of mine, for instance, had an interest in politics  and politics has never really grabbed my attention. Yet, over the years, I’ve come to view it as a learning opportunity. By asking questions and engaging in conversations about a subject that matters to him, I demonstrate that I value his interests. It’s a reminder that being a good friend often means being a good listener.

That said, shared interests form the heart of many friendships. Common ground—whether it’s a love for books, poetry, hiking, or faith—creates a natural space for connection. Those shared passions build a foundation for conversations that can go on for hours, fostering a deeper understanding of each other.

 But friendship isn’t just about shared hobbies; it’s about affirming one another. One of the simplest, most powerful acts in friendship is to offer genuine praise. What is your friend good at? Tell them. I’ve found that saying something like, “I really appreciate our friendship,” can make a lasting impact. We often assume our friends know how much we care, but speaking those thoughts aloud strengthens the bond.

Trustworthiness, though, remains the bedrock of any true friendship. Going back to my earlier story, one of the quickest ways to lose a friend is through gossip or betrayal. People want to know that their confidences are safe with you, and that you won’t slander or criticize them behind their back. Friendship requires sincerity. In a world so quick to judge, be the one your friend knows they can rely on, not just in word, but indeed.

Speaking of reliability, it’s an essential quality in any meaningful relationship. Imagine being invited to a friend’s gathering and bailing at the last minute because something more appealing came up. Or worse, making a habit of cancelling plans. That’s a sure-fire way to erode trust ( see Psalm 15:4). Friendships, like all relationships, involve sacrifices. If you’re only in it when it’s convenient for you, the friendship will wither. I remember a friend who would always wait for me to pick up the tab when we went out for coffee. He also borrowed money and never paid it back. Over time, I realized that this wasn’t friendship—it was exploitation. Friendship must be reciprocal, a two-way street. Otherwise, it ceases to be friendship at all.

We all falter from time to time. None of us is perfect, and inevitably, we will disappoint our friends. When that happens, it’s essential to apologize—and not the half-hearted “sorry, but...” that often sneaks in an excuse. Just say “sorry” and own the mistake. Admitting fault requires humility, but it’s precisely this humility that deepens the bond. We connect most deeply when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and show our imperfections. By humbling ourselves, we remind our friends that their feelings and well-being matter more than our pride.

Friendship, much like life itself, is filled with small, everyday moments that test our character and challenge our hearts. It demands sincerity, humility, and trust—qualities that make us better not just as friends, but as human beings. So, if you’re wondering how to nurture a friendship, it starts with something simple: be the kind of friend you would want for yourself.

And perhaps most importantly, as Proverbs says, “love at all times.” For it is in loving—flawed and imperfect as we are—that the true secret of friendship lies.

“A friend loves at all times.” 

—Proverbs 17:17