Blog | Lindsey Smallwood

Stir It Up

Lindsey Smallwood

During my first few years out of college, I worked as a campus pastor for university students. I started my career in ministry the way most people start most careers these days - as an intern.

The first person I met on the first day of my internship was Jessica.

Jess, already a full-time pastor, was fast-talking and friendly, showing me the ins and outs of the house we would share - along with 13 other women! - and helping me navigate the intern manual. That first week, she was formally assigned to be my mentor, a role that involved meeting together weekly for support, accountability and advice. 

The (at first) weird and (ultimately) wonderful thing about having Jess as a mentor is that we were also friends. I'd had mentors before, my campus pastors during undergrad, a lady in my church back home, a dear family friend, but these had all been people either

a) older than me,

b) in a position of power, or

c) both.

Due to age or power differences, my previous experience with mentoring relationships meant that the roles were very clearly defined. When I met with a mentor, I was coming to receive something, to ask for something, to benefit from their wisdom and experience.

But with Jess, the lines were blurred.

Jess was my friend-tor, a peer who was also interested in helping me grow, both personally and professionally.

Me and Jess sporting some serious safety gear on a rafting trip down the Kenai River. I was mentoring her on the appropriate response to a bear sighting, which, incidentally, is  not  to point and yell "Bear!" Which we did. About 5 minutes after this picture was taken.

Me and Jess sporting some serious safety gear on a rafting trip down the Kenai River. I was mentoring her on the appropriate response to a bear sighting, which, incidentally, is not to point and yell "Bear!" Which we did. About 5 minutes after this picture was taken.

We'd made a commitment to know each other well, to learn from each other and we set structured times to do it, sharing about vocational challenges, deep convictions, and struggles with sin and doubt. But because we were friends, we also did things like make dinner and go backpacking together.

This sort of spiritual friendship was new to me - and it was powerful.

My friendship with Jess lead me to three important realizations.

1) Explicit commitments contribute to personal & relational growth.

I have a lot of friends.

Some I catch up with at happy hour or ultimate frisbee games, others live far away and I have to call if I want to connect. Our family has small group friends we only see on Sundays and work friends we see socially on occasion.

In most of our relationships, the level of interaction we have with someone in a given month is determined either by happenstance or in reaction to whatever else we've packed our schedules with that.

But what if we made growing in and through friendship a priority?

Scheduling an hour a week or every other week to meet with a friend for the purpose of sharing joys and challenges, giving and receiving advice, and joining together in prayer could change your life.


Imagine knowing that someone you admire, respect and enjoy is making space to know and love you well - regularly. That thought delights me and gives me hope.

It might feel scary to ask a someone to make this kind of commitment. But brave things are often scary.

And worth it.

2) Friends can mentor you. And you can mentor your friends.

Mentors don't have to be older (or even wiser) than you, although those kinds of mentors are great if you can find one. But everyone around us has a gift to offer the world.

Maybe you are bad at organization and have a friend with a knack for using rubbermaid containers in beautiful ways - ask her to show you the way! Or maybe you really admire the way your buddy is navigating his career. Talking about your own challenges and asking how he makes professional decisions can lead to your own development.

Finding a mentoring relationship means putting yourself in a position to learn from someone else, which can feel strange in a friendship. But by being direct about what you see in someone else's skill set and how you hope to grow together, you can create a space to be friend-tors.

3) Deep friendship requires vulnerability.

Here's the hardest part. If we want relationships that support us in our weaknesses and push us to develop our strengths, we have to be honest.

Honest with ourselves and with our friends.

Honest about our hopes and dreams and goals and plans.

Honest about our failures and struggles and heartache and sin.

All of our beautiful messiness becomes fair game in true friendship. And in the mess, where we experience shame and frustration and fear, God lovingly uses people to speak life and healing and hope, to pull us up and get us unstuck, to point us back to the path we wanted to walk in the first place.

Hebrews gives us this challenge:

Image courtesy of

Image courtesy of

Living the kind of life we all want to live, a life filled with doing good things and loving people well doesn't just happen.

We've got to stir it up in each other.

And if we are intentional, vulnerable and committed to growing in friendship, God can use those relationships to shape us more fully into his image.

You guys, I need some friend-tors in this season! I decided to "go first" by asking some local girlfriends to do a six week summer study on friendship together. We start next week and I'm looking forward to sharing more with you about what we learn together.

Do you have a friend-tor? What steps are you taking or considering to grow in and through friendship? I'd love to hear more in the comments below.