Real relationships are intentional. They don't just happen to us like weather—they're cultivated like gardens, tended with care, and protected from the weeds that threaten to choke them out. I've been on a journey through the terrain of connection, asking hard questions about what makes a relationship real versus what makes it merely present. And I'm discovering that real relationships are a nurtured investment that begins with our Heavenly Father, then flows to our immediate family. But where do they go beyond that?
Real relationships are intimate. They require us to let someone past the carefully constructed facades we show the world. They demand vulnerability, the willingness to be seen in our weakness and loved anyway. But they're also confrontational—not in the harsh, combative sense, but in the way that iron sharpens iron. Real relationships create space where truth can be spoken, where disagreement doesn't equal abandonment, where someone who loves you can say, "I think you're heading the wrong direction," and you know it comes from care, not criticism.
Real relationships are supportive and trusted. They're the people who show up when life gets messy, who guard your confidences like treasures, who celebrate your victories without envy and mourn your losses without platitudes. And here's what I'm learning: real relationships are essential for our well-being. We weren't designed to walk this life alone, to carry our burdens in isolation, to celebrate our joys with only our own echo for company.
But if real relationships are this vital, this nourishing, then we need to be intentional about who we include in our lives. We can't assume every connection is a true relationship. I've spent too many years treating acquaintances like close friends and wondering why I felt drained instead of filled. True relationships are wonderful and are to be celebrated—but celebration requires recognition, the ability to see them for what they are and honor them accordingly.
As someone walking a path of faith, I'm convinced that spiritual relationships are a part of God's plan for our discipleship journey. We weren't meant to follow Christ alone. The early church understood this—they broke bread together, confessed to one another, carried each other's burdens. Community wasn't optional; it was oxygen.
So where do I go from here after this look into what relationships are? Where do you go? The journey moves from reflection to action, from pondering to practice.
I need to firmly define who is in my core. Not in some cold, calculating way, but with honest discernment about who God has placed in my inner circle for this season. And then I need to be OK with casual relationships and the purpose they serve. Not every connection needs to be deep. Some people are meant to be golf partners, not confidants. Some are meant to be pleasant coworkers, not spiritual family. There's no shame in that—it's simply clarity.
I also need to be OK with letting go of regular contact with people who do not need to be in my circle of connections at this time. Seasons change. Some relationships complete their purpose. Releasing them isn't rejection; it's recognition.
But here's the question that cuts deepest: Is there anyone who is dragging me down and away from my relationships that truly matter—beginning with my relationship with Christ? Because toxic connections don't just harm themselves; they steal energy and attention from the relationships that deserve them.
What I'm learning is that relationship is holy work. It's part of how we experience God's love made tangible, how we practice the love He's shown us. And that holy work requires both discernment and celebration.
I must celebrate and lift up my true relationships—not take them for granted, not let them languish from neglect, but tend them with the focused attention they deserve.
Because in the end, these relationships—with God, with family, with chosen spiritual companions—are some of the most beautiful gifts we're given in this life. They're where we learn to love beyond ourselves, to forgive past what's easy, to show up even when it's hard.
They're worth the intentional work. They're worth the investment. They're worth celebrating.
And they're worth fighting for.
