I Prayed for Friendship; God Gave Me Sisterhood


“If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” ~African proverb


I have known two types of friendship in my life. The first was the experience I think many women are familiar with: the relationship in which we feel guarded, unable to be our true selves, and unsure of the motives behind a friend’s words. This is the kind of friendship where gossip and competition are as rampant as a flowerbed of weeds in early springtime.

The second is the type of friendship I prayed for a decade ago. I remember the moment well; standing in the shower—where much of my prayer and creative thinking takes place—I cried out to God for authentic relationship. “Please God, give me real friendships where I can truly connect and be seen, where I feel close and valued. Please God, Please God …”

My prayer came as I washed away the mud on my shins from a morning run with two of the women in my life. I was several months into motherhood and feeling disconnected in my new role. I had also recently moved to the suburbs.

During the jog, one of the women had told me in a sympathetic voice that others were talking about how “snobby” I appeared to be. They concluded with shrugging shoulders that it must be my British accent, or perhaps jealousy over the fact that I was the first of all of us to move into a single detached home. Whatever the reason, to my fellow joggers the discussion seemed normal.

My heartbreak was palpable as I realized the girls in my current social circle not only had completely the wrong impression of me, but that each time we connected I felt drained, uncomfortable and disappointed. Wearing masks was not only routine, but the cultural sign of strength within the group.

Those masks were killing me.

These friendships left a knotted feeling in my stomach. The women talked about one another in judgemental ways, and saying what was really on our hearts and minds was too vulnerable and risky.

When I looked back on my life, this kind of friendship had been more prevalent than any other.

In the shower, I realized I would need to disengage from the group if I wanted to avoid feeling continually hurt. I would have to put up boundaries and walk away in the hope that at some point I would find the kinds of friendships I was seeking.

An absence of friendship seemed to be a better choice than friendships that kept breaking my heart.

Gradually, I disconnected from that group of women, and for a brief period of time my only friends were those who lived on the other side of the world.

During this time, as I navigated the lonely day in-day out chores of dirty diapers, breastfeeding and hours at home with only a baby for company, I struggled with the concept that there must be something wrong with me.

As an introvert I have always struggled to step out and connect with people. I prefer a small circle of close friends rather than a larger group of acquaintances. But to garner those close relationships requires some degree of sociability at first.

Was I sabotaging any chance at friendship through my inability to make that first step to simply say “hello?”

Perhaps. Relationships do after all, require the efforts of the two people involved. But if there is one area where I can say God has answered my prayers beyond my wildest dreams it’s in the arena of friendships.

Nowadays one of my greatest joys, strengths and blessings in life is my circle of friends. That circle is also currently the raft keeping my head above water.

I know that when I stood in that shower ten years ago and called out to God for friendship, He looked across the years and saw just how much I would need it in this, my hardest year yet. As I navigate divorce, depression, heartache and the loss of life as I once knew it, it is the words and presence of the friends I call family that give me hope and calms my fears.

These are the friends that help me pack boxes as I prepare to move to a house alone. They are the friends who sit by my side and cry with me. The ones who text me saying, “You can do hard things. You are family. We belong to each other.” The ones who take me out for afternoon tea, “Just because you are loved.”

A decade ago I had no idea friendships like these were even possible. The kind where we laugh together, cry together, show up as our broken selves and know we will be loved exactly as we are. The kind where we can be vulnerable and know this is a safe place.

When I prayed for friendships into my life, God gave me so much more. He gave me Sisterhood.