There is something about a conversation which is not constrained by time pressures. The most important person in that season is the conversation partner. No agendas other than to listen and to give of oneself from the heart. Trading stories, sharing laughs, shedding tears without shame. The freedom to be real without fear of ridicule, or worse, misuse of shared dreams and confessions.
I have no idea what these two men discussed as they strolled along the dock past a rusting fishing trawler in the small coastal village. A folk band played in the distance and seagulls offered musical pointers while striding the breezes aloft. But I wonder.
I wonder at the possibility of hearts so interwoven, so knit together in godly friendship, that each person is used of God to create Christ-like character in the other. Imagine that. Such a friendship implies vulnerability to each other, and correspondingly, influence. It can be beautiful or treacherous; too often, the latter.
Friends like these seek you out even if all others abandon you because you are no longer of benefit to them. They fight for you when enemies seek to destroy you. They celebrate you and delight in your accomplishments, even if it overshadows their own. They pray for you in good times and bad. They gently remind you of your weaknesses while affirming your strengths, and challenge you to flee sin. They allow you to do the same.
Through it all, they trade stories with you. The essence of doing life together. Through the years, oblivious to the seagulls continuing their critique of the small folk band.