FRIENDSHIP: When It's Easy and When It's Not

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The humblest individual exerts some influence, either for good or evil, upon others.

—Henry Ward Beecher, 1813–1887,

American clergyman, novelist, essayist

How can we honestly say that any individual is self-made when no one lives in a vacuum? Each of us is influenced by those around us—especially our friends—and they are influenced by us. Consciously or subconsciously, we become a blend of the individuals who make an impact, no matter how small, upon our lives.

Because our parents recognized this reality, we were cautioned as children to be wise in our selection of friends.

Birds of a feather flock together, my mother often warned, and wisely so.

As adults, however, we sometimes find ourselves surrounded by people who are foisted upon us by circumstance. As a result, we spend much of our life interacting with people whom we may or may not have chosen as friends. Neighbors, coworkers, business associates, club members, charity volunteers, and even in-laws provide us with a kaleidoscope of colorful personalities. Some will become our friends; some will be endured, while others will be avoided as much as possible.

Life would be wonderful if we were surrounded entirely by those sunny, positive, and loving individuals who brighten our day just by entering it and who bring out the best in us. Is it possible to become more like them just by association?

How do we deal with that friend or associate who is so negative we must flee for survival so our batteries can recharge before we encounter them again?

Why do the thoughtful deeds fashioned in our mind so seldom become reality and just lie there like bones in the cemetery of good intentions?

How can we survive and resist the double standard so prevalent in many families where relatives persist in treating rudely those who love them the most? Can all relatives also be good friends? What about ex-relatives?

How can we protect ourselves from friends who discredit our abilities and rob us of our dreams?

What do we say to the grieving, hurting, or dying friend? How can we help the lonely friend?

What can we do when we realize that much of the pain we experience results from our wrong attitudes and actions?

How do we avoid migraines from prolonged exposure to well-meaning friends whose incessant talking drives us crazy?

How can we learn to forgive those who wrong us?

And how do we become better friends with ourselves? It is true that friends can bring sunshine or stormy clouds into our lives, but in reality, healthy friendships pivot more on who we are than on other individuals or inclement circumstances.

May what you read in the following pages provoke some answers to the above questions and provide stimuli as you travel your path of friendship.

God evidently does not intend us all to be rich, or powerful, or great, but He does intend us all to be friends.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson, 1803–1882,

American essayist, lecturer, and poet

Friendship—Tough Stuff!

She stood barely five feet tall and, soaking wet, weighed not more than one hundred pounds.

Hi, my name is Pat Harris, she said, extending her hand.

My husband Jerry and I had just moved into our first new house, and she was our next-door neighbor. Her smile, as well as her words, welcomed me not only into the neighborhood but straight into her heart—and she’s been there ever since.

She, with a toddler boy and an infant daughter, and I, pregnant with my first child, formed the kind of friendship that often begins when lives are drawn together in like circumstances.

My son took his first unaided steps in her living room. We exchanged recipes, baby sitting, dreams, and heartaches. Pat grieved with me through my three miscarriages. She helped and encouraged me through my final pregnancy when I was confined to bed the last few months. She rejoiced with me when our last chance baby arrived as the adorable girl my husband and I had longed for.

I ached with her through the pain and embarrassment of living with an abusive, alcoholic husband. I was the witness in her ultimate divorce (back in a time when such was needed), and I encouraged her as she struggled under the burden of being thrown into the workforce with two small children to support, house payments to make, along with the added burden of learning to drive.

I don’t remember doing for her all the things Pat says I did, but she has an uncanny recall. (She can even describe in detail dresses I wore during those early days of friendship.)

I had completely forgotten that it was I who taught her to drive, until she reminded me.

I’ll always remember how patient you were, she said. And I vividly recall how white your knuckles were that day when I zipped through a busy intersection. From the passenger’s side, you calmly announced, ‘You just ran a red light.’

Patricia Harris, I exclaimed, I find it strange that I don’t recall any of that!

She laughed. The mind has a way of blocking out terrifying experiences.

How lightly was tossed the line of friendship that day of our first casual greeting as we waved to each other across our front lawns, and yet it has spanned over half a century. This cord of friendship has thickened through a lifetime of seasons—births of children and grandchildren, greatgrandchildren, marriage, divorce, and the loss of my loving husband after forty-seven years of marriage.

There have been stretches of time, sometimes months, when we were without contact—times when we were preoccupied with living, cities apart. Yet always the golden cord of friendship pulled us back together, and we picked up where we left off, as though we had never been apart.

It’s not that we always agreed on everything. We’ve had differences of opinion, from controversial issues such as religion and abortion to the personal tastes in food and music. I see her as a wild junk food junkie, and she sees me as a boring health food addict.

When I visit her, I go laden with the forbidden contrabands of my own diet—Danish sweet rolls, gourmet cakes, and candies. Declining her offer to join in snacks of high caloric, rich in fat, sugar sweet delicacies, I laughingly remind her, I’m only a supplier, not a user. As her coffee perks, she boils water for my herbal tea, and I pull out my bag of trail mix. The only thing sweeter than her honey roll, dripping with butter, is the fellowship we enjoy.

We both are nuts! We would rather laugh than breathe, and we see humor in everything. When we get together, we are like two comediennes trying to outdo each other with our spontaneous quips and funny observations.

We often laugh until our sides hurt, and one of us begs the other to stop.

I only like the food that’s bad for me, Pat quips. If it’s filled with calories, cholesterol, nitrates, fat, and refined sugars, then that’s the food for me. The minute I eat something that tastes bad, I know it’s good for me, and I can’t handle it. Take away my junk food, and I would fall apart—it’s all that bad stuff that holds me together.

When we were next door neighbors, we had an unspoken difference of opinion regarding housekeeping habits. I still feel she was somewhat fanatical about keeping such a spotless house. And I am certain she had misgivings about my praise of the virtues of dust and its ability to not rust, rot, smell, or mildew—not to mention my defense of spiders and their inalienable rights to live undisturbed in the high corners of my house. As for music, I tolerated her country music singers, and she yawned during my easy listening background music.

Why does the fragrance of some friendships linger as a vivid reality, cascading down the years of time, while others dissipate into nothing more than frustrating moments of inability to recall the names of those who, for a period of time, were once a part of our lives?

Just as water seeks its own level, so does friendship. From the swirling circumstances of life, friends will emerge, drawn together by mutual interests and needs. The long term friendship, however, is built upon stronger stuff—the foundation of character that recognizes a friend as a treasure to cherish, not someone to compete with or use and then cast aside. Healthy friendship requires a recognized mutual responsibility for sustaining a relationship. This has more to do with character than any other single factor since it rises above all superficial differences. One sided friendships will disappear into the waters of time, for they are nothing more than castles in the sand. Not so with friendships built upon character.

The Qualities of a Friend

What do you consider the most important quality in a friend? the talk show hostess asked a panel of women.

The answers were much as expected and ranged from honesty and integrity to openness and acceptance. I too pondered this question until one woman’s response interrupted my thoughts.

Loyalty. I expect my friends to be loyal to me. Like who I like, hate who I hate…

During the flurry of responses to that candid statement, I experienced a flashback to my childhood. I again heard the voice of one of my playmates saying, If you play with her, then I won’t play with you—and you can’t be my friend anymore. I hadn’t understood why I couldn’t be friends with both of them.

I refused to hurt my second friend, thus I never played again with the first one, not because I wasn’t willing, but because I was isolated for disloyalty. She found other little friends who would play her game, and they went around the school ground arm in arm, each hating the same people.

I leaned forward and looked closer into the television. The woman who had made that statement looked to be about my age, and I wondered—could it be possible…? Still playing the same old games?

To enjoy a friend, I need more in common with him than hating the same people.

—Frank A. Clark,

American writer and cartoonist

Who hasn’t encountered such immature attitudes in the adult world, the workplace, and community as a whole?

Little cliques that cling together, hating a different opinion, whether it is religion, politics, or lifestyle. Should one of them venture out and be friendly with another who is not one of us, that person is immediately suspected. After all, how can anyone like everyone, much less be friendly to someone who doesn’t fit in?

To consciously limit our friendships to those who merely validate our every preconceived thought, opinion, and belief is a decision to stagnate. We will never grow beyond what we are nor stretch toward what we could be. We might experience the same results were we to buy a tape recorder, tape all of our opinions, thoughts, and beliefs, and play it back to ourselves.

It would also be emotionally cheaper, for then we would never have to worry about some friend disagreeing with us or, worse yet, threatening us with differing opinions.

There was a time I felt disturbed, threatened, and defensive when a friend expressed differing viewpoints. And then I met Thersa.

I had never known anyone like her. She could discuss anything with anyone and never appear threatened by differing opinions. Nor did she overly react when her own viewpoints were insulted and attacked. Nothing anyone said or thought seemed to disturb her.

It wasn’t that she was timid, naive, or an anything goes person with no value system. She had strong moral values grounded in what she described as not a religion per se, but a spiritual relationship with God through his Son. (That must have been why she appeared so different to me than those I knew who merely acted religious.) She treated everyone with equal compassion and respect—friend or foe.

I recall one day childishly repeating some gossip to her, telling her that I had heard that so and so had heard that a certain person didn’t like Thersa.

I’ll never forget her response. She refilled my tea cup with hot water and refreshed her coffee mug. I thought maybe she hadn’t heard me, but I waited. Thersa made no attempt to defend herself or to ask further questions, nor did she attack the integrity of the person who reportedly had made such a remark. Neither did she question my wisdom in succumbing to the immature practice of gossip. She simply closed the subject forever with one friendly statement and a big smile: That’s okay. I give her permission to not like me. And then she changed the subject.

Though in my life only briefly, Thersa made a lasting impression on my mind. I was intrigued by her tolerance. She allowed those around her the freedom to be themselves, and yet not think any more or less of herself for doing so. I recall thinking, How can anyone be so secure?

No Pain, No Gain

It happened after joining a local gym. My goal was to shed some excess pounds and to firm up flabby muscles. After my first workout, I was sore all over. I didn’t know there were so many muscles in one body!

I complained to the instructor who explained, You’re sore because you’re out of shape. And you are out of shape because you haven’t been using those muscles.

I replied that I wanted to rest up a week or so to get over the soreness and come back when I felt better.

Then you will never achieve your goal, she said. The best thing for you to do is to work out the soreness by continuing to do the exercises. I argued, reminding her that was how I got sore in the first place.

I know, and it will continue to hurt for awhile, but the soreness will go away—if you exercise consistently. Once you are in condition, you will be amazed at how much physical stress your body can endure without hurting.

Six months later, when I had achieved my goal and was a lean machine, I was again working out when something suddenly clicked in my brain.

Could it be that the intolerance, irritation, and discomfort I feel in situations when someone disagrees with me are merely symptoms that I am out of shape—that my discomfort is caused, not by others, but by my own hardening of the attitudes?

A picture of Thersa, who had moved away some months earlier, flashed across my mind. And I thought she had been born that way!

Maybe what I need to do is to expose my flabby mental muscles to more exercise. Instead of withdrawing from uncomfortable conversations and situations, maybe I should use them as work out times to exercise and become stronger.

When I finished with the thigh roller machine, I headed toward the passive equipment. Midway I changed my mind and veered toward the leg press.

Maybe if I built up my muscles of tolerance and patience, I could develop the ability to see things from different perspectives. But could I ever get to the point where I could endure extremely unpleasant situations, as did Thersa—without the pain of feeling the need to attack or defend? Maybe—but I would need to work out vigorously and consistently.

I decided it was worth the try—and added extra weights to the leg press.

Just as muscles will atrophy from disuse so, too, will friendships cease to be functional when one or both of the friends is unwilling to exercise and grow. When one friend exhibits rude or punitive intolerance toward differing beliefs or mental stretchings of another friend yet demands respect for herself in all of these areas, a double standard exists. It will be very difficult to build a strong, healthy, and lasting friendship.

There must be a common foundation upon which to build friendship, for just as good muscle tone is built, not granted, so, too, is friendship. The lasting foundation is built of stronger stuff: integrity, trust, and fair-mindedness. One can live securely in the presence of that friend who has developed an attitude of fairness—where in any given situation her primary loyalty will support what is right, not who is right.

As a piercing laser beam of light, the friend with a mind bent on fairness will cut through the fluff and fill of race, religion, creed, party, bloodlines, self interests, or anything else in her search for what is right. Her integrity will be strong and constant yet resilient enough to allow her own rough edges to be knocked off through interaction. Individuals stretching toward integrity such as this will become not only closer with their friends but will discover they are wiser and stronger as a result.

Iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.

—Prov. 27:17 (NASB)

Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but deceitful are the kisses of an enemy.

—Prov. 27:6 (NASB)

Though my friend Pat and I have disagreed at times on certain head