Are your friends durable?

Don't discount challenging, monotonous, and unexpected moments with friends

“Are your friends durable?” my friend Ruthie used to ask her children when they invited friends to come over. One of her sons was mentally challenged, often making him difficult to be around, and not just any so-called friend could handle the chaos and messes and uncomfortable moments he created. Having a brother like theirs provided those kids with a litmus test for identifying potential friends, sorting through them perhaps more quickly than they might have without him in the picture. But awkward moments pass, and kindness can be faked. If nothing else, people can excuse themselves and go back home. 

Real friends—durable friends—are not found but rather created over time in the crucible of tough circumstances such as sickness, stress, or sorrow. Any one of these can strip us down to the nails, exposing the real structure of our foundation.

A few summers ago, I went with some 50 teenagers on a pioneer trek. Re-enacting the crossing of the plains, everyone agreed to wear not-so-stylish pioneer garb. In addition, the girls left behind makeup and curling irons while the boys gave up unlimited access to food. Stripped of pretense and comforts, the youth began the trek much like a game or a stage play. They teased each other about costumes and showed great bravado when competing to pull the handcarts the fastest. However, as the long hours dragged on and they had to keep trudging along difficult trails, those kids were soon unbearably hot, unusually hungry, and unbelievably tired. Some were just plain bored. They laughed a little less, and the “nails” of their personalities began to show.

What’s more, because they were organized in “families,” they were required to stick together in their assigned groups, no matter what. So, just as in real families, there was no escaping the hard work, the inappropriate comments, or the frustration of someone burning the meal. But as they slogged through each day under intense circumstances, real friendships began to form. Feelings of genuine concern for each other began to grow and deepen. I daresay even a noble spirit began to emerge. 

For instance, when a few trekkers became dangerously dehydrated and were far from a water source, about ten boys quickly organized themselves into a makeshift rescue crew, racing up and down the mountain in blistering heat to relay water back to those in need. When the terrain became rough or steep and the handcarts became heavy or started to careen out of control, it usually took an entire family—the weak and the strong—to either move forward or to avert potential disaster. While these trek experiences lasted only three days, they provided fertile ground for seeds of durable friendships.

It’s no mystery that being yoked with others through challenges forges trust and leaves indelible marks on our memories. Many speak fondly of lifetime friendships built during military or missionary service. Others make inseparable connections to those with whom they’ve shared a trauma. No singular experience, though, can compare to the strains of daily family living where both the monotonous and the unexpected can test our durability. That’s why in the end, while Ruthie and her children had their radar up looking for durable friends, they themselves became the durable ones.