Just Be There
By Alisha Renee
I’m on my L plates when it comes to friendship. As someone who loves to achieve and excel, this is one area of my life where I feel like I’m still on training wheels. Thankfully, I’ve had some great teachers. These haven’t been wise senseis or fancy counselors, they’ve been my friends. They haven’t offered profound advice or expounded extraordinary wisdom—they’ve simply shown me how it’s done.
Three beautiful women, along with many other precious friends, have shown me that friendship is simply about being there—in the good, the bad, and the messy moments of life. And it’s in the little things, like a cup of coffee, a walk, or just making time.
Meet Camille. When my dad died, I was crushed. The way I process pain is to withdraw from people, even those I care about. In those early, raw weeks, I didn’t want anyone asking me how I was. There’s no adequate single sentence response to this question when you’ve lost someone. I didn’t want sympathy—the ‘I’m so sorry’ as if it was somehow the person’s fault Dad had died. And I didn’t need Scriptures—not right then, even though I know the people who share them mean well. To be honest, I didn’t really know what I needed; I thought I just needed to be left alone. Until Camille offered me a cup of coffee. I was watching my daughter’s swimming lesson when I noticed my friend arrive. I hoped she hadn’t seen me. She could have offered the standard wave and kept her distance, especially since I am certain I was giving off some pretty clear ‘I want to be left alone vibes’. But she didn’t. She went to the café and came back with two cups. Sitting next to me, she offered me one. No words. No condolences. Just her presence. And it broke me. In those brief moments of simply sitting, I felt her compassion, acceptance, and understanding. She’d lost her brother only a few weeks before. She knew the pain. Her courageous and simple act of sitting with me unleashed my tears and my words. I knew I could talk with her, and she’d understand.
Meet Michelle. After having my son, my post-pregnancy body made me feel like a whale. I mentioned to Michelle that I was feeling frumpy and wanted to do something about it. She didn’t tell me to be kind to myself or comfort me with the fact I had just had a beautiful baby boy and that it was natural for my body to be a bit larger. She heard my need, my desire, and said, ‘Right, how do Friday mornings work? We can meet at the river, go for a walk, and finish with a cuppa at the café.’ So we did. I can’t remember how long we did these Friday walks for, but I remember she journeyed with me. As a friend. And when I was at my wits end with a toddler and one-year-old, she invited me to come and have a night’s break at her place. Hubby gave the OK, and I received the best mama therapy you can get—someone to sit with me, listen to me, and help me find a way through.
Meet Tamsin. This woman does ‘being there’ like a pro. I regularly get texts checking in to see how I am going, and she is always interested in the answer. She’s a friend who will sit with me, pray for me, ask how I’m doing, ask how my hubby and kids are doing, share honestly, ask for prayer, make time for a cuppa, listen to my ideas, hear my struggles, and even drop off a bag of goodies to encourage me—with no expectations. She’s, you know, there. Even when I don’t initiate conversation or connection as much as she does, she’s still there. She’s pretty much the kind of friend I imagine Jesus would be. She even has the courage to speak the truth when I need it—not like an advisor or mentor, but like a friend who cares.
These friends have helped dismantle the belief I held that to be a friend I need to have something special to offer— words of wisdom, deep spiritual insight, or practical help. I know friends need this from time to time, but most often, just being there is enough. As someone who has spent too much of my lifetime measuring my worth by my giftings or by what I achieve and accomplish, this is difficult to accept. Coming empty-handed into a friendship feels like turning up naked. I feel awkward and ashamed. Yet, these beautiful women have shown me that friendship isn’t complicated, it’s just caring enough about someone to show up for them and be present.
I think I’ll be on my L plates for a while, with my tendency to get absorbed in projects and productivity. But I’m sending more ‘check in’ texts than I used to, I say yes to most invitations from close friends to connect, and I’m getting used to ‘naked friendship’ where I can relax in just being me, without feeling pressure to perform with profound insights or to bring something unique to the table. I’m learning to simply be there. And who knows, maybe in ‘being there’ I am also showing my friends what the Father is like—Present. With us. There.
I know the LORD is always with me. I will not be shaken, for he is right beside me.
Psalm 16:8 (NLT)
PROMPT: In what ways could you ‘be there’ more for your close friends in the coming year? Is there anyone you could check in with this week?
Photo by Hannah Busing on Unsplash
