Five Minute FridayHere’s the deal. Five Minute Friday. You go find the little prompt at the wonderful Lisa-Jo’s blog, set the time and write for five minutes, and then just stop. Where you are, no edits, just publish raw words.



It’s one look, one quick glance with my eyes before I blink hard and look back to the floor. I don’t want anyone to see the tears forming quickly and I need a way to escape. But she knows me well and, more than that, she knows my heart. I hurry quick from the room but she saw it coming.

A hand on my arm and a voice by my ear saying, “are you okay?” I whisper where can we go, and she finds a place.

A dream crushed, and my best friend knows it. Life carries on for everyone else in the room, but I’m confused and my heart hurts. We sit on a sofa in an empty room and as I lean against her the tears fall. She plays worship music and I look up and ask her to pray.

Quiet. Peace seeps into the room.

I feel safe, held, loved. Comfortable. I’m at home and there is no judgement.

(from here, thank you google)

Flash forward to a sunny day and a conversation outside a restaurant. An important relationship in her life has ended, and she’s hurting. She confides in me and I listen. The sun is beaming and I can only half-way see her if I hold one hand in front of my face – but it doesn’t matter: I see her heart.

She asks if she can tell me something important, if she can get something off her chest. I lean in a little closer so she’ll know I’m listening hard.

It’s a two-way street, this community thing. We’ve spent hours together in coffee shops and restaurants talking about life, and many afternoons have been spent sitting on her couch in comfortable silence.

In each other’s presence, we’re comfortable.

Once a week we meet and talk about a chapter or two we’ve been reading. We pour over the Bible and there’s nothing awkward about it when you’re daughters of the King, learning about Him and loving each other. We’ve spent two semesters talking about what it means to speak the truth in love. To be honest when it hurts, and to love much and love well.

We do life together, yes. We talk through the struggles and share in the joys, because joy shared is joy multiplied, and grief shared is grief divided. I’m calmer in her presence, more relaxed and sure.

My heart is comfortable with hers.