BARBARANNE KELLY | CONTRIBUTOR

Blessed are those whose strength is in you,
in whose heart are the highways to Zion.
As they go through the Valley of Baca
they make it a place of springs;
the early rain also covers it with pools.
They go from strength to strength;
each one appears before God in Zion.

—Psalm 84:5–7

Who else remembers the sweet miniseries about Anne of Green Gables from the 90’s? A central feature of much of the story was the “bosom friendship” between Anne (“with an ‘e’”) and Diana. Hatched in the sweet exuberance of childhood, over the years their friendship blossomed and matured, with many ups and downs in between. I enjoyed following Anne and Diana as they grew up together through girlhood, into adolescence, and then young adulthood, probably because I rarely lived in one place long enough to grow up together with a “bosom” friend.

Being created in the image of God means (among other things) that we are capable of and even thrive in relationships. There are different types of relationships given structure by God’s design for (at the very least) the perpetuation and survival of our species, and these are reflected in Scripture as pictures of our relationship to God. The love of God as a Father is the love that saves his children, nurtures them, and gives them life; the love of Christ for his bride is a love that protects, washes, and sanctifies her. I may be stretching the analogy too far, but perhaps friendship is an example of God’s love within the Trinity. For the fellowship within the Trinity is simply (and yet incomprehensively) about the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit knowing, loving, enjoying, and glorifying one another.

When we’re children, our friendships form with other children our own age, and may develop simply because we’re thrown together by reason of living near one another or being in the same class at school. As we age though, the ties which bind friendships together change from outward circumstance and become more inward. Our friends aren’t those who happen to live nearby—though they may—but it’s not simply because they live nearby. Our friends are those with whom we’ve found a common interest and enjoyment; those with whom we share an aspect of our inward selves.

When I was a young mother, my dearest friend was another young mother. Lisa happened to live nearby, and we attended the same church. We shared a number of outward similarities. But it was our inner enjoyments that drew us together and cemented our friendship. We both loved to read. We shared the same curiosity and appreciation for the importance of theology. We had a similar sense of humor and loved the same movies. We were so similar outwardly that people thought we were sisters, but it was the inward bond that drew us together. Though my family moved away, we remained friends, and over the years whenever we were able to see one another the bond remained, even if outward circumstances had changed.

C. S. Lewis wrote that “Friendship must be about something, even if it were only an enthusiasm for dominoes or white mice. Those who have nothing can share nothing; Those who are going nowhere can have no fellow-travellers (sic).” Friends are “joint seekers of the same God, the same beauty, the same truth….”[1] In the beginning, my friendship with Lisa was about juggling children, but it soon grew to be about seeking the same God, the same beauty, and the same truth.

Many years and moves later, the Lord kindled a friendship between me and a woman with whom, outwardly speaking, I have very little in common. Among the many differences between us is the fact that we’re not the same age—when she was married and had her first child I was still in middle school. But then one day she asked if I might be interested in reading a book together, and there it was, the first spark of friendship—what Lewis insightfully described as, “something like, “What? You too? I thought I was the only one.” [2]  Our differences melted away as the “seeking together” strengthened our friendship.

This is the beauty of intergenerational friendships. We make much of Titus 2 mentoring among women in the church, as well we should, because it is a vital means of discipleship as designed by the Lord. But friendships between women of different generations are something other than mentoring relationships. They may well begin with or include some aspects of mentoring, but the sweetness of true friendship will gradually melt away the age gap until it’s almost invisible to the friends. We go from “follow me as I follow the Lord” on the road of discipleship, to walking side-by-side as fellow travelers on the highway to Zion. When age differences are mentioned, it’s almost a surprise, stopping us in our tracks as we trace out the invisible years that separate our births. “What? I’d almost forgotten! How funny.”

As we travel the highway to Zion together with the friends God so graciously gives, the inner enjoyments which first draw us together are joined by godly encouragements, deepened by weeping and rejoicing together, and built on the firm foundation of celebrating and glorifying the Lord who knows us better than we know ourselves and loves us more perfectly than the best earthly friend. “They go from strength to strength; (until) each one appears before God in Zion” (Ps. 84:7). And once we are there in Glory with our Lord, all our relationships will be freed from our many sinful failings by which we inevitably wound one another, and together we will love one another perfectly, as we know, love, enjoy, and glorify Jesus together for all eternity.

Is there a woman in your church with whom you’ve never considered exploring a friendship because of a difference in your ages? Why don’t you invite her to lunch, or to visit a local museum or botanical garden, or even to read a book together? Who knows? As you get to know one another, there may come a moment when you’re both saying something like, “What? You too? I thought I was the only one!”

[1] C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves, p 66–67

[2] Lewis, 65.