The Friend Who Wears a Crown
Okie dokey, Friend, for the love o’ grits an’ red-eye gravy, come on over here an’ git up on this front porch with me. Now, settle yourself right over here beside me on this ol’ rickety, crickin’ porch swing ‘cause John 15:15 is feelin’ much warmer than a big ol’ skillet of cornbread fresh out of the oven. That there verse is tellin us, “No longer do I call you slaves, but I have called you friends.” Now that there’s a real truth so rich and tender it could soften the heart of an ol’ mule that’s been stubborn since birth. Now, picture this right here: God’s desire for friendship stretches oh so much wider than one o’ them back‑pasture meadows where even the deer git lost and have to ask directions from the squirrels. That’s just a small idea o’ just how big His invitation to us really is.
You were made to be friends with God. You can have the best people in your life, all them folks who love you, feed you, and check on you like a mama hen countin’ her baby chicks, but you’ll still feel a lil’ bit empty until you git to knowin’ Jesus personally. That’s ‘cause your heart was built with a “Reserved for Jesus Only” sign permanently hangin’ on it.
And, friend, Jesus really wants to be your Friend. Not in a polite, wave‑from‑across‑the‑yard kind of way, but in a pull‑up‑a‑chair, share‑your‑burdens, walk‑with‑you‑through‑the‑woods kind of way. Saints of old sure did know this. They lived with a deep awareness that Jesus wasn’t just their Savior, but He was also their daily companion. Believers often adore Him as God, trust Him as Judge, and worship Him as Lord, yet some folks still miss out on the wonderful sweetness of the wonders of His friendship. That friendship is the very secret sauce of the saints.
Joseph Scriven really did understand it. After heartbreak sent him from Ireland to Canada, he found comfort in Christ’s companionship. When his mother got real sick, he wrote her a special poem that was turned into a beloved hymn that’s still being sung by millions:
“What a Friend we have in Jesus,
All our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
Everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit,
O what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer!”
Jesus really does want to be that Friend who shares your griefs, carries your burdens, and hands you His peace like a warm, cozy quilt on a real cold night.
Father, thank You for callin’ us Your friends. Help us lean into that friendship, trust it, cherish it, and walk in it daily. Teach us to bring every burden to You and rest in Your peace. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Now, I’ll tell you what, friend, let that truth settle into your heart the way a tired old rooster settles onto his favorite fence rail at sundown, convinced he owns the whole barnyard. Let it soak in and warm you like that first cup of coffee on a cool Texas morning when the fog is still tryin’ to remember where it left the pasture gate. An’ carry it with you as you walk through your day, whether you are strollin’ down a smooth path or steppin’ over roots that seem to jump up just to test your sanctification. Remember this with every step you take. The One who rules the heavens also walks beside you with the steady loyalty of a farm dog who has decided you are his person. Your King calls you Friend, and that truth is strong enough to hold you, guide you, and lift you all the way down the road to the business of the day and right back home again.
With joy,
Gwen
