The Kind of Friendship That Changes Everything

This isn’t a polished word. It’s not meant to be. It’s raw, and it’s real. And I believe it’s for someone who’s been walking through the valley and wondering, Why? Why the pain? Why the delay? Why the ache that won’t let up?

Here’s what I want to say to you—straight to the heart:
The reason you’ve suffered is because God wants to be friends.

I know that might sound too simple to explain the depth of what you’ve walked through. But it’s the kind of simple that has the power to reorder everything. You haven’t been suffering because you messed up or missed your calling. God’s not punishing you. You’re not being disqualified.

You’re being invited.

It’s an invitation into the deepest place of relationship—the kind that only forms through fire. He’s drawing you close. Not just as a child, not just as a bride—but as a friend.

We love to talk about being sons and daughters, and rightly so. The truth that we’re part of God’s family is a foundation we build on. And the mystery of being the Bride of Christ is glorious beyond words. But I fear we sometimes skip over the very thing Jesus called His disciples on the night of His betrayal: “I no longer call you servants... I have called you friends.” (John 15:15)

Friendship.

Not casual. Not distant. Not convenient.
Covenantal. Costly. Close.

It’s the kind of friendship where you're with someone, not because everything is easy, but because love won’t let you leave. The kind where you don’t just know someone’s victories—you know their pain. You’ve walked through it with them. You’ve stayed.

This is what Jesus showed us in the garden. As the shadow of the cross loomed and His soul was “exceedingly sorrowful, even to death,” He didn’t ask the disciples to perform a miracle. He didn’t preach. He didn’t even ask for answers.

He asked for presence.
“Stay with Me.”
That’s the cry of friendship.

He’s still asking for that today.

I know what it’s like to sit in suffering and say, God, make it stop. I’ve prayed that prayer. We all have. But I’m learning that sometimes the better prayer is this:
“Jesus, come close.”

Because His presence changes everything. Not always the situation—but us. When He’s near, the pain doesn’t control us. The questions don’t define us. Even the silence begins to speak—because He’s there.

Beloved, the Christian life was never about doing something great for God. It was never about climbing a platform or building a brand or living pain-free. It’s about becoming His friend.

That’s always been the invitation.
Not just servants—He has angels for that.
He’s looking for someone who will be with Him.
Not for what He does—but for who He is.

So if you’re in the middle of the fire right now—if the ache is real and the answers are scarce—this is your reminder:

He’s near.
He’s reaching for you.
And He wants to walk with you in this—especially in this.

Friendship with God is not a byproduct of our journey. It is the journey.
It’s not the side blessing—it’s the treasure. The reward. The point.

So right now, take a breath. Be still. And just say:
“Jesus, come close.”
He will.

And when He does, you’ll see—He’s better than you ever imagined.

—Billy Humphrey