friendship – Katy Shevel

I’m sorry I forgot to text you back: Keeping friendships in a busy world

When a simple text goes unanswered

My friend texts me out of the blue on a weeknight. I am surprised and delighted to hear from her! She misses me and wants to make plans to hang soon. Absolutely! I think to myself. Before composing a reply, I dive into brainstorming mode: We could go out for brunch, and split sweet and savory entrees… Then we could go apple picking, and take fall-themed selfies…

Buzz! My plans are interrupted by the dryer. Chastising myself for leaving my clothes to wrinkle last time, I set aside my phone. While wrangling a pile of lavender-fresh shirts, my boss calls. There’s an email in my inbox I should peek at before tomorrow morning. After reading and processing the email for a bit, I grab a snack. I notice my fridge looks sparse…

A full hour later, I’ve immersed myself in the latest episode of “The Golden Bachelor” and the task of meal planning for next week.

The status of my friend’s message? A middle place: I like to call it text message purgatory. It’s when we open messages, read them, and then forget to reply. I wish I could say I rarely do this, but I do it all the time. I know I’m not the only one.

It’s not all our fault. We’re busier than ever these days, constantly multitasking, and transitioning back and forth from one task to another, in both the digital and physical space. Our brains adjust to adapt to our fast-paced environment, jettisoning details between transitions to make space for new information. (Case and point: when we lose track of a text message due to myriad small interruptions.)

Why friendship often comes last

However, when it comes to our friends, I think the main culprit is lack of prioritization. Our society tends to argue that friendship takes a backseat to other relationships. We’re told that friends “play a supporting role to work, family, and romance.” Work, kids, family, dating, responsibilities around the house… Once that’s all done, we finally get around to picking up the phone. The task of making plans – let alone keeping them – is like bad choreography. In “The Six Forces That Fuel Friendship,” Atlantic writer Julie Beck shares, “I personally find that the effort of coordinating hangs (or even phone calls) is the biggest barrier to seeing my friends.”

Let’s say your old friend reaches out to get quinoa bowls on Tuesday night. It isn’t that you don’t want to get together — or don’t like quinoa. It’s just that the babysitter is sick, and your spouse is working late again. How about next week?Oops. Never mind, that’s no good either. You say you’ll touch base in a couple weeks. You both forget to follow up. The dance is achingly predictable.

Between our busy schedules and the world telling us we need to prioritize literally everything else, how do we reclaim space for our friendships?

ChatGPT tells me to keep a sticky note on my nightstand as a constant reminder to check my texts before bed. That’s a start. Though a sticky note prompt doesn’t let my friend know that she matters to me. After all, I’ve left her in text message limbo. (More than once.) Of course, I’d like to safeguard against this happening as much as realistically possible. But I also know myself. This is going to happen again. Therefore, I want her to know that our relationship is very significant in my life. Even when, despite my best intentions, life ironically gets in the way.

What the Bible teaches about lasting friendship

In the Bible, friends make commitments to one another that shape the course of their lives — and their friendships. In the Book of Ruth, tragedy strikes, leaving both Naomi and her two daughters-in-law as widows. Though Noami believes they would be better off returning to their families, Ruth vows to stay: “Where you go, I will go; where you lodge, I will lodge; your people will be my people and your God; where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried…” (Ruth 1:16-17).

In the Bible, friends make commitments to one another that shape the course of their lives — and their friendships.

Ruth declares her intention for their relationship, and it is forever altered. Ruth and Naomi travel together, remain by one another’s sides, and interweave their lives. So much so, that Naomi eventually settles down with Ruth and Ruth’s new husband Boaz, helping to care for her new grandbaby.

Ruth and Naomi are bound to one another. Though even when circumstances keep friends apart, the Bible contains stories of those who remain faithful to their promises to each other. When King Saul becomes violent towards the heir to his throne, David, Jonathan – Saul’s son and David’s close friend – intervenes. He hides David, returning after three days to tell David to flee. As they make a tearful farewell, Jonathan declares, “The Lord shall be between me and you and between my descendants and your descendants forever” (1 Samuel 20:42).

Even Jesus himself makes a solemn promise to his friends during their last meal together. Knowing he will soon be put to death, after breaking bread and sharing wine together, he vows to his disciples, “I will never again drink of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom (Matthew 26:29).”

All of these biblical examples share a commonality: a spoken covenant. Each is sealed by a heartfelt utterance, in one way or another, to be friends, well, forever. Maybe you’ve stood at the altar and made a vow similar to this to your future spouse. Now, perhaps thinking about friendship similarly, as “forever,” feels a little too long. Even so, does your friend know how you feel about them and your relationship? When was the last time you declared your true intentions to one another?

Practicing intentional friendship

In “The Six Forces that Fuel Friendship,” Beck asks us to think outside the box. We don’t have to view friendship as a lesser priority. She advises, “It takes imagination not to default to this norm, and to design your life so that friendship plays the role you really want it to.” She illustrates this by listing examples she’s seen of friends who buy homes together and go to therapy together. Two friends walk thirty minutes every day to give each other a high-five. This ritual lasts for years — and even survives through memory loss.

We don’t have to view friendship as a lesser priority.

Beck notes the importance of having a scheduled rhythm to help maintain our friendships: “It’s much easier when something is baked into my schedule, and all I have to do is show up.” A sticky note on my nightstand doesn’t help communicate to my friend that she matters to me. Joining a book club together might.

In her book Modern Friendship: How to Nurture Our Most Valued Connections, Anna Goldfarb lifts up friendship rituals like celebrating a “friendiversary,” or exchanging matching bracelets. She writes, “When you make space to celebrate your magical connection, you send the message that you – and your bond – matters.”

Perhaps we should dream a little then. Make space for imagining what could be. Voice our intentions out loud. In other words, let’s tell our friends they matter, create rituals together, and make promises that honor that one special thing about our relationship.

I am creating a schedule that prioritizes my friendships. On Wednesdays after work, I bring coffee to my local musician friend. While she is setting up for her evening rehearsal, we catch up about our weeks. On Thursdays after work, a friend from grade school and I have an outstanding appointment for a phone call. My friend who texted me out of the blue? We enjoy a semi-regular “tea time,” with tiny sandwiches and everything.

Do well-laid plans fall through? All the time. Will text messages still be opened and unread? Hopefully not forever. May our underlying promise remain: You, my friend, are important to me. Let me tell you why. Let me show you how…

A version of this article was published by Presbyterian Outlook on October 30, 2025.

When friendships change

I recently took a trip to the Jersey Shore with a dear friend. No, we didn’t go to that Jersey Shore. We hit the road for a getaway to the seaside town of Cape May: full of bright pastel Victorian homes, pale historic beaches dotted with “Cape May diamonds” (quartz pebbles), and big porches set for afternoon tea. Together, we celebrated my friend’s warmly anticipated entry into her second trimester and toasted our years of friendship — zero-proof style, of course.

A few highlights from our weekend “down the shore” were nature walks, dolphin sightings, and scrumptious seafood. However, I believe the scene I will hold most fondly is from our last evening in Cape May. As the light faded, we found our way into two rocking chairs, side-by-side on the wrap-around veranda of the B&B where we were staying. Creaking in our swaying seats, I remember thinking it was like time had stopped, as we chatted happily about life and watched horse-drawn carriages roll by under the old-world lamplight.

When I think about our friendship, I think about conversations like these. We both like to talk… a lot. Our friendship was forged as we both underwent different seasons of challenge and processed it all together: over wine and too much dessert. Now that my friend has arrived at the threshold of parenthood, I am so delighted that we could salute this next chapter of her life in a place so charmingly conducive to discussing it. Undoubtedly our friendship will change over the coming months. But I will always look back tenderly at that weekend snapshot in time and marvel over how a slow-paced, seaside setting captured the very essence of our friendship so beautifully.

As a single person with only a furry, four-legged dependent, I do sometimes worry about sustaining relationships with my friends as they start families. Major lifestyle shifts are one of the main contributing factors to why even strong friendships can dwindle. After all, pregnancy certainly alters any “girls’ night” happenings. Since I won’t be staying out late sipping cocktails in Philadelphia with certain friends anymore, this means I must be intentional about the deeper reasons for our connection. My prayerful hope is that we will uphold the core reasons why we want to remain in each other’s lives — and that we will always sustain the effort to connect.

In her book, Modern Friendship: How to Nurture Our Most Valued Connections, Anna Goldfarb stresses the importance of recognizing why we have the friendships we do. Goldfarb believes that our friendships are bolstered when we acknowledge the functions our friendships play. She suggests that clarity for our friendships gives us purpose, “establishing a clear and compelling reason why both people seek one another out and continue to put in the work to maintain the friendship.”

Drawing upon the wisdom of friendship researcher Tom Rath, Goldfarb identifies eight types of friendship roles: builders, champions, collaborators, companions, connectors, energizers, mind openers, and navigators. Builders motivate you and coach you up. Champions praise you and talk you up, even when you’re not around. The rest of the categories are pretty self-explanatory. A friend can fit more than one role in your life, and our roles for one another may change as the years progress. I appreciate these identifiers to help better understand my friends, as well as to help name the qualities and characteristics I bring to the table.

To add one further layer of understanding, I like the term David Brooks uses when discussing friendships: “accompaniment.” I value Brooks’ concept because it is not exclusive to any particular type of friendship. It doesn’t matter if you are a “collaborator” friend, or an “energizer” friend. It doesn’t matter what role you have for others, or what role they have for you. Accompaniment is simply how Brooks encourages us to approach people. Brooks says that accompanying someone is about “presence, patience, trust, vulnerability, and putting others before ourselves.” In his book How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Deeply and Being Deeply Seen, Brooks writes, “[Accompaniment is] just riding alongside as they experience the ebbs and flows of daily life. You’re there to be of help, a faithful presence, open to whatever may come.”

Accompaniment isn’t reduced to what we can or cannot do. Accompaniment means embracing who we can be for one another. This idea is freeing for me. No matter what season of life my friends are in, my goal is to be the one who accompanies. I can be a companion who sojourns alongside my friend as she approaches and enters motherhood. This might mean I show up when she needs me. When she has a newborn at home, I can stop by with snacks for a night in or offer my babysitting services so she can have a well-deserved break. Or, it may very well mean we traverse through a season of life apart, in which we do not see each other as often but still support each other from afar.

Practicing the art of accompaniment is a mindset. Being one who accompanies requires trust. I cannot force the friendship. Instead, I must prayerfully learn to relinquish control and be content to come along for the ride. I must believe in my heart that because we each play a meaningful role in one another’s lives, we will mutually continue to make one another a priority on into the future. It means letting go and believing that the ebbs and flows of life will eventually lead us back to each other.

Practicing the art of accompaniment is a mindset that requires trust.

According to Goldfarb’s list of friend types, my fellow Jersey traveler and I are “navigator” friends. Navigators are the ones to whom one turns for support in handling life’s twists and turns. I need someone in my life to help me talk through my choices and keep me orienting me toward my core beliefs — and I believe I do this for her as well. We have stood at various crossroads together and supported each other in our decisions. We have joyfully celebrated our successes and dreams together. Now it seems we are standing at another crossroads. It’s a little scary, but, oh what a happy snapshot in time! The memory of the two of us rocking side-by-side on a big Victorian porch in Cape May is the image I will carry with me as I prepare to accompany her into this next exciting chapter of her life.

A version of this article was published on Sept. 26, 2024 by Presbyterian Outlook.

Forgiveness: Drawing close to the wound

What happens when you are denied forgiveness?

“Do you forgive me?”

The question hung in the air between my friend and me. I had just admitted fault and apologized, and I tried not to hold my breath. What if my desire for reconciliation was not returned? What if my attempts to repair the broken relationship were not reciprocated? My four little words were so full of vulnerability, hope and pregnant anticipation.

The roots of this conversation started weeks ago when my friend and I had a misunderstanding and they stopped speaking to me. I did everything I knew to do to make the situation right. I wanted our healing to follow the familiar pattern: contrition, confession, absolution, and reconciliation.

I took the steps I thought I needed to, then I waited to receive some sign, an assurance of forgiveness from my friend. To be very honest, I felt that I needed it. We all need forgiveness. Our flawed selves spill over and hurt the people in our lives, time and time again. As we say in the Lord’s Prayer, “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” By God’s grace, the ability to pardon one another’s missteps is what holds us together. Without forgiveness, we would be alone.

But forgiveness is as challenging to ask for as it is to accept. In Consolations, a lyrical ode to words themselves, poet and philosopher David Whyte describes forgiveness as nothing short of “heartache.” He writes how difficult it is to practice, for “it not only refuses to eliminate the original wound but actually draws us closer to its source.” The path to forgiveness is painful. It assumes a great deal of risk. It does not deny the damage done but accepts it and looks forward, all while recognizing something has been altered in one’s self and in one’s relationship. Furthermore, forgiveness is painful because sometimes it does not come — or it is delayed.

“[Forgiveness] not only refuses to eliminate the original wound but actually draws us closer to its source.” — David Whyte

As I write this, my friend has not forgiven me. At least, not yet. When I stood in the intersection of our “original wound” with a hand outstretched in apology, my friend did not want to meet me there. I wanted resolution and reconciliation. My friend wanted space.

Dazed by their rejection, I was not sure what to do next until another friend counseled me: “You might have to look elsewhere for closure.” That’s when I heard the assurance of pardon anew. As a pastor, I frequently lead this section of worship. One Sunday after this conversation with my friend, however, I was a participant. The leader opened, “Friends, believe the good news of the gospel.” The congregation responded, “In Jesus Christ, we are forgiven.”

Something clicked at that moment, and a weight lifted from my shoulders. I was reminded by my community that I was forgiven, and I started to believe it.

I was reminded by my community that I was forgiven, and I started to believe it.

In our Reformed tradition, we don’t wait for absolution to be given by a mortal in a robe or a collar. The business of forgiveness isn’t left to the professionals. Forgiveness comes from Christ, and since Christ’s forgiveness has already been freely given, it can be uttered equally as freely by everyone sitting in the pews: young and old; member and visitor; believer and nonbeliever.

God’s abundant grace demonstrated by Christ’s free gift of forgiveness is a key theme of our theological inheritance. While this thought is certainly good news, it can be hard to grasp. We can easily lean into either passivity or obligation. Forgiveness can easily become a forgone conclusion, regardless of how we act, or a duty.

In my rush to resolve the situation with my friend, I fell into the trap of the latter. I took what I believed to be necessary steps out of duty and obligation to my friend. I expected instant forgiveness and an immediate gesture of reconciliation in return. My friend isn’t ready to forgive me yet, but this doesn’t negate the truth that God’s promise of forgiveness and work of reconciliation is still at work in both of our lives. Perhaps inward efforts were made on behalf of my friend, and I haven’t seen them. Perhaps this will be a process. As David Whyte points out, “The great mercy is that the sincere act of trying to forgive, even if it is not entirely successful, is a form of blessing and forgiveness itself.” I still hold out hope for us, with time.

Through this experience, I have been reminded that our ability to forgive one another is not a duty or obligation. It is a sacred extension of God’s perfectly sufficient act to forgive us through Christ Jesus. Forgiveness is a means of grace. Always. It’s not something we should ever take for granted. Nor is it an obligation that binds us without freedom. If all forgiveness comes from Christ, then the good news is that all relationships are redeemable.

Our ability to forgive one another … is a sacred extension of God’s perfectly sufficient act to forgive us through Christ Jesus.

When we sit with Christ’s free gift, we are prompted to offer our own free gifts to those around us: How can we show understanding and compassion to someone who pulls back their hand from us? If reconciliation in one relationship isn’t possible for a time, can we extend ourselves outward to forgive someone else? Can we locate the “original wound” within us and have compassion for the person we used to be, as someone who has both gotten hurt and has done the hurting?

Share the good news with someone hurting and who needs to hear it. Affirm it in your heart: In Jesus Christ, we are forgiven.

Thank you for reading! As always, check out this piece and more at my Presbyterian Outlook author page!