When God Is in the Middle
By Brandy Grillo
“God, I need to have people in my life who are Christ-like. You are calling me to something I do not understand or know—I cannot do this on my own.”
This was one of the first prayers I wrote down when I began talking to God nearly six years ago. Before that, I had no prayer life at all. This small but mighty prayer was at the top of my list.
I’ve always had people around me. Growing up as an only child, I dreamed of having brothers and sisters. When that dream didn’t become a reality, I traded it for the companionship of friendships. The problem was, I had no real relational intelligence or discernment, so I got hurt more times than I can count. Still, friendship was a valuable source of life—something I never quite gave up on.
There is something special about going through life with someone. After giving my life to Jesus, that “something special” became more than a desire—it became crucial.
My first question in this quest for Christ-like friends was: What do they look like? How do they speak? Where are they—where would I even find them?
Even though I didn’t grow up in church, I had always heard that sometimes there are more demons inside than outside some churches, and the last thing I wanted was the wrong kind of “Godly” company. My first sister in Christ came as a co-worker at my job. Let’s be clear—where I work is not godly by any means. It’s worldly and overly sexualized at times. I work in healthcare, specifically in the niche of sexual health. At the time, I had no idea that the lab where she worked would become the very first place where I would question, confess, pray, and receive some of the tools I needed for the new life I had entered just months before.
She was my only Christ-centered person for a solid two years. I had no clue that this was a training ground for both of us. While she mentored me, God was equipping her for her future calling in ministry—and now, this very month, she’s being ordained.
I went through some harmful friendships early on and had to let those go. After that, I had regular friendships—not harmful or full of bad advice—but ones where God simply wasn’t at the center of the conversation. The insight came from personal experience, their own strength, or what they thought was best. And while that sometimes helped, it always had a limit.
But this new friendship—this godly friendship—was different. When I was hurting, she didn’t just say comforting things; she opened the Word. When I needed direction, she didn’t just offer opinions; she prayed with me. We encouraged one another with Scripture, anchored our advice in God’s promises, and invited Him into the center of every conversation.
It was a kind of love and support I hadn’t known before—one that didn’t come from human wisdom but from the source of life itself. When I asked her to pray, it felt like she had a direct line to heaven. She went to war for me in the Spirit. The worship songs she sent me opened up something new inside—I began to notice how they softened my heart and shifted my thinking.
Even I started to shift—from being a regular friend to becoming a godly one.
Before, I didn’t bring God into my everyday conversations. When friends called me for advice or just needed someone to listen, I gave them my thoughts, but not God’s truth. I didn’t pray for them or with them.
But the insight I found through having a godly friend lit something inside of me—it fired me up to become that kind of friend for someone else.
It’s cool to have friends you can travel with, go to brunch with, shop with. That’s fun, and those connections matter. But life requires more. You need at least one—hopefully more—who will go to war with you and for you. Friends who will pray over your circumstances, your family, your future. Friends who will hold you accountable—not to their standards or the world’s—but to God’s.
That kind of friendship doesn’t just support you, it sanctifies you. And it changes everything.
Eventually, community became part of my prayers. I had learned that the wrong kind of influence could easily steer me off course—but the right community, the right kind of influence, held a quiet power that could change lives for the better. Little by little, God began nudging me to open up to a few women at church. Then again, at work, I found another sister in Christ. These conversations were different—not surface-level, but spiritually deep. They felt purposeful, as if God Himself had orchestrated them.
Tears would fall.
Healing surrounded us.
Prayers were answered.
Clarity came.
Faith grew.
Courage became bold.
Strength was built.
And a new understanding of our purpose began to form.
Friendship is truly a gift God has given us. But when we allow people into those intimate spaces who don’t belong there, damage often follows—even Jesus experienced betrayal by someone close to Him. Still, He had a few loyal ones by His side—people who carried the good news forward, all the way to us, the believers of 2025.
A good friendship is a blessing. But a godly friendship? That’s divine.
A godly friend will go to war for you. Because there are things in this life you can’t fight with flesh and blood—battles you won’t even recognize without someone spiritually led by your side. Someone who advises from a place of wisdom. Someone who walks with you in love for the same heavenly Father.
I’d like to give some examples for you as the reader to see the differences between the two:
Godly friendships are built on faith, truth, and accountability. They often involve prayer, Scripture, and mutual encouragement toward God's purpose.
Regular friendships, on the other hand, may be based on shared interests, convenience, or loyalty—but they’re not always aligned with your spiritual growth.
A godly friend won’t just cheer you on—they’ll call you out in love when you’re slipping.
“Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses.”
— Proverbs 27:6
A regular friend might avoid tough conversations or tell you to “just do you,” even when that path is harmful.
Godly friends pray for you, intercede when you can’t, and speak life over you when you’re weary.
Regular friends may offer advice, but it’s often rooted in culture, emotion, or personal pride—not always in God’s truth.
Godly friends sharpen you (Proverbs 27:17) and push you toward righteousness, purpose, and peace.
Regular friends might enable compromise, confusion, or chaos—especially if they don’t value your boundaries or beliefs.
Regular friends may drift with seasons, but godly friendships often feel divinely appointed—they bear eternal fruit.
I used to think loyalty was the highest form of love in a friendship. But now I know the truth—It’s spiritual covering. It’s someone who reminds me who I am in God when I forget.
That’s what makes a godly friend sacred.
May these words find one heart, calm one mind, heal one soul, and awaken one spirit.
