My closest friend, who I have known since birth, is Erica Brown.
Born only two weeks before I, Erica grew to be as close as a sister throughout my childhood, and a friend who stood the test of time as we entered into adulthood. The Lord orchestrated a friendship that would run deep, true, and last through the tides of life.
When you have a friend such as this, a person who you spend lots of time with, endure fights with, celebrate victories with, and so on, you begin to have a deep understanding of who they are. You are privileged and trusted with the deepest, most vulnerable parts of that person. You are gifted with the knowledge of their quirks and habits. You discover their passions. You continually peer into the depths of their heart.
Upon first glance at Erica, you can gather some things. She is incredibly beautiful; her brown-eyes sparkle in the sunlight and perfectly match the smile across her face. You could probably assume she is a joyful person, full of life and laughter. If she is wearing her work attire, her scrubs are a give-away that her profession as a nurse shows a degree of a caring, nurturing heart.
If you got real stalker-like about it, her social media pages would show you her love for her family, as their faces are plastered all over her posts. Her hashtag, #fromthebrownkitchen, would reveal her passion for baking an absurd amount of mouth-watering, sweet morsels that make angels sing.
What you wouldn’t be able to gather about Erica from a glance across the room or a scroll through her Instagram is her childhood love for Barbies and the hours we spent playing with her Barbie dream house as kids. You wouldn’t know about the amount of plotting it took for us to plan to strand ourselves in the middle of the Toms River via rowboat by throwing the paddles overboard that way I wouldn’t have to move to Florida at the age of 10. (Obviously our plan didn’t work.) You wouldn’t know the incredible amount of Scripture she’s memorized as a kid because of her knack for putting the verses into song. And you definitely couldn’t even begin to guess who Martha May Hooveay is.
Deeper still, you may know how well she loves her family and friends, but you might not know that she prays for those people fiercely. Or you may not have the slightest clue about the beautiful old woman she calls “Grandma” and takes out to lunch every so often, yet she is not related to her at all. Or that she shows love through her gift-giving and hand-written notes.
I know these things because I’ve taken the time to learn about Erica and grow in meaningful friendship with her. I’ve been there through the tears over messy break-ups and the celebration of getting the braces off. I’ve exchanged dreams, thoughts, fears, and worries with her. I can call her friend.
Now, what about you? Think of your closest friend.
Maybe you’ve known them for 10 months or 10 years, or more!
You know their heart. You know their quirks. You know their dreams and fears. You know their voice so well that if they were in another room and they called your name, you’d know whose voice it is. Your sweetest of friendships are near and dear to your heart.
Now what about Jesus?
The other day I was listening to the Lord and I was hit hard by the reality of the situation. When prompted with the question, “In what ways have a treated Jesus as any less than a friend?” I realized how well I knew my friends. I’m talking, inside jokes for weeks, memories for miles, can finish each other’s sentences and know exactly what their thinking, kind of well.
But, do I know Jesus in this way? The One I gave my life to at the age of 6, which puts us at 20 years of ‘friendship’, can I really call Him “friend”?
Do I know the depths Jesus’ heart? Can I look at another person and see them the way Jesus would? Can I discern His voice in my heart when He speaks? Do I get a severe case of FOMO when I don’t get to spend time with Him?
After all, Jesus calls me friend. Sure, He has the advantage of being God and knowing me better than I know myself, but the fact that He longs for friendship and intimacy with me should put me in awe daily.
“No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.”
— John 15:15
Not only does He desire to know us, but He willingly makes Himself known to us! Yet, how often to we jump at the chance to get to know our Savior? I know I am guilty of foolishly placing things before Him consistently. My heart doesn’t always ache to know Him. I don’t always yearn to sit in the stillness and silence with Him. I’ve even been in moments where spending time in Scripture has simply become nothing more than a task to check off on my To-Do List.
Oh, how the Lord’s heart must ache! Not out of condemnation, but out of the love of a Father wanting to be known by His children in the way He seeks after them!
I can boast of the ways I know my closest friend, but can I boast in my friendship with Jesus?
Therefore, as it is written: “Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord.”
— 1 Corinthians 1:31
Intimate, significant friendship with the Savior is the friendship I want to long for the most. I want to know the Lord’s heart the best that I possibly can. I want to see with His eyes clearly, discern His voice with ease, and be fully secure in His love for me. I want to sincerely call Jesus, “friend”. That is the kind of friendship worth boasting over.
“Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.”
— James 4:8a
“So pull me a little closer, take me a little deeper,
I want to know Your heart.
I want to know Your heart.”
