A few good friends

It’s a rare friend who can call you “liar” to your face and live to tell about it.

Or raid your fridge and pantry like they’re his own. (My husband and I call them “refrigerator friends.”)

It’s a rare friend who can make you smile from 1,000 miles away with a few words on a birthday card.

Or be facedown on the floor in prayer for you in your darkest hour.

I’m blessed to have a few good friends.

© Verity Johnson | Dreamstime.com

The last week has reminded me of that.

Motherhood is a lonely gig sometimes, complicated for me by the fact that we live 700 miles from where I grew up, and I have a hard time making friends.

Not that I’m unfriendly. At least I don’t think I am. I’m just shy sometimes, and unwilling to be vulnerable with new people. And afraid of rejection. I want to invite people to my house to get to know them better but if they tell me “no,” then I’m afraid to ask again.

And I’m not good at maintaining a gazillion friendships.  I like people, and I’m of the mind that if I’ve ever known you at some point in my life, I consider you a friend of sorts. Or at least someone who I wouldn’t hang up on if you called me.

Do you ever wish we had another word for “friend”? Facebook has kind of ruined the idea with every acquaintance, classmate, co-worker and family member you have being called “friend.”

I want a word that describes those people I described above:

  • people who aren’t afraid to find out how you really are
  • who share their lives with you
  • who know you in ways a spouse can’t because they lived the drama of middle school, high school and beyond with you

Those kinds of friends deserve a better word. And I’m at a loss to find it.

Any suggestions?

For another take on friendship, check out my friend Courtney’s blog on the subject.

And tell me about the good friends in your life.


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