Backyards & Back Gates
When I say the phrase “male friendship” what comes to mind?
Your first thought may be a co-worker, or your college roommate, even though you haven’t spoken in 4 years, or perhaps another dad who you coach soccer with every Spring. All reasonable examples, but these are not the friendships I have in mind. Funny enough, when I first thought of this phrase, I picture a group of guys meeting together in someone’s basement as an “accountability” group. Though this can be productive and, in some cases, necessary, I don’t believe this is the type of friendship most guys seek out.
I recently read an article on the state of adult male friendships and the data is startling. To sum it up, guys have few friends. If they’re lucky, they may have only one or two good ones, where conversations move past the weather, sports, and grilling techniques, into discussions about loss, regret, vision, dreams, hope, and the faith we carry.
Sure, many of us may have had good friends in our 20’s or even into our 30’s, but as high school and college fade in the review mirror, we look around and quickly realize the progression of our lives may no longer include a meaningful group of guys. Candidly, living with our friendships parked on the surface can be easy, it’s as if there’s an unspoken agreement between most guys that this relationship will remain on the surface, because, you know, neither of us have the time or effort to give. When combined with the increased responsibilities of a career, kids, mortgage and spouse, there’s not much left. And so, exerting energy into these types of relationships can be an afterthought.
But that’s just a sorry excuse, and we need to stop making excuses.
As men, it’s much easier to build fences around our lives, isolating ourselves from the meaningful friendships we think we don’t need. Don’t do it. Intentionally seek out men that will encourage you, that will challenge you to confront your shortcomings, and that will embody brotherly love. By God’s grace, sometimes those friendships come out of nowhere, like they did for me, from a twelve-foot-wide concrete ditch behind a back gate. I’m just glad I made the decision to walk through it.
Read more of Backyards & Back Gates in Kinsmen Journal Volume 1 — Purchase here.
