What a Mud Puddle Can Teach Us About Friendship

I remember the day I parked my van in her driveway and tried to garner enough courage to ring the doorbell. I wondered if my heart would stop racing once I convinced my feet to walk up those three front steps. I agonized over what I would say if she answered the door, and I agonized about what I would do if she didn’t.

I hadn’t planned to stop when I drove past her house on my way to the grocery store that morning, but something my friend had said the day before kept ringing in my head like a doleful echo.

We’d been sitting on the edge of the sandbox, our kids playing at our feet, when she’d mentioned a personal struggle that threatened to steal her hope. She’d masqueraded her vulnerability with a flimsy giggle, but the tears pooling in her eyes bore silent testimony to her pain.

I hadn’t known what to say in that vulnerable moment, so I’d pressed through with a one-armed hug and an empathetic nod. After an awkward pause, we’d quickly shifted our conversation to something more comfortable — books we’d read and recipes we’d tried, school events and soccer schedules.

Maybe that’s why this familiar verse had nudged me with a quiet clamp of conviction when I’d opened my Bible later that day. “A true friend loves regardless of the situation, and a real brother exists to share the tough times” (Proverbs 17:17).

I thought of the moments I’d shared with my friend on the edge of the sandbox, and I humbly considered my own heart through the lens of Proverbs 17:17. Had I been a true friend? Had I loved well? I was willing to share small talk and playdates at the park, but was I willing to share the tough times, too?

It was my honest answer to those questions that had led me to my friends’ driveway. But it was my own insecurities that had left me idling in my van as my mind contrived a thousand excuses for shifting into reverse and driving away.

What if I knocked on the door and messed it all up? After all, I wasn’t a psychologist or a pastor, a doctor or a counselor. I was just a sleep-deprived mom with struggles of my own.

What if my friend was embarrassed I’d come? What if she thought I was overreacting? What if I said the wrong thing and amplified her pain?

I was about to leave when I remembered a recent conversation I’d had with my 8-year-old daughter.

Hannah had come home from second grade with a bloodstain on her sleeve and a splotch of dried-up mud on her backside. And the story behind the splat had spilled from her lips between bites of apple slices and Goldfish crackers:

“Grace got hurt at recess today. She scraped her knee on the cement when she tripped on the kickball and fell in a puddle.”

I’d swallowed a giggle, as I tried to picture the clumsy scene.

“So you took her to the nurse?” I’d asked as I attempted to fill in the gaps.

“No,” Hannah replied with a humble shrug. “Grace’s leg hurt too bad to walk. But the fastest boy in second grade said he’d run and get the teacher for help. So I just sat with her until the teacher came.”

“In the mud puddle?” I’d retorted with an incredulous laugh.

“Yeah …” Hannah had replied with a quiet sigh. “I think she just needed a friend to be with her when she was hurting.”

I’d wrapped my daughter in a proud hug and vowed to remember what my puddle-percher already knew…

Sometimes, what people need more than our helpful expertise is our humble availability.

When we can’t fix the problem, we can offer our presence.

When we can’t heal a hurt, we can hold a hand.

When we have nothing to give, we can give ourselves.

I stared once more at my friend’s front door and then dropped my head in prayer. Lord, show me what to do. When I opened my eyes, I noticed a dried splotch of chocolate milk splattered across the knee of my well-worn jeans.

The splatter was a battle scar from our hurried breakfast chaos, but in that moment on the driveway, the unsightly blotch of chocolate bore an uncanny resemblance to a murky brown mud puddle.

So, I took a cue from a second grader who understands friendship a little better than her mama, and I slipped out of the van. I walked up the front sidewalk and rang the door bell. Then I took a deep breath and waited with nothing to offer but a humble hug and my stain-splattered self.

Because sometimes more than Band-Aids or Bible verses, more than rescue or repair, our struggling friends just need someone who is willing to meet them with love wherever they are. And even when we can’t find the words, we can always render our with-ness

Thanks for spending time with us here today, friends! If you’d like stay connected to this community of Jesus-chasers and hope-dwellers, feel free to subscribe. As a welcome gift, we’ll send you ten promises to remind you that God is with you. Also, if you haven’t read my devotion for Proverbs 31 today, you can find it here. It’s a little story about a pizza that made me cry and what I learned about the power of encouragement from that giant pepperoni pie.

Finally, if you’re looking for some creative ways to deliver encouragement, grab a copy of this free download, “20 Ways to Encourage A Friend Today.” And if you have a moment before you go, let us know in the comments which idea you plan to put into action. Let’s scatter encouragement like confetti as we end 2021!

Oh yeah, one more thing! I’d love to bring a message of encouragement to your next women’s event. Check out my speaking topics here and don’t hesitate to email me if you’d like to partner in ministry in the year to come.