Every once in a blue moon, you meet one of those incredible people who fall into the category of what Anne of Green Gables would refer to as a “kindred spirit.” It’s an entirely biblical concept, which is dreadfully handy, and in I Samuel 18 we find that David and Jonathan were two average extraordinary guys who had that instant connection to the point where it has been written of them that Jonathan loved David as his own soul, and that their souls were “knit together.” (Which is possibly biblical justification for saying that knitting is superior to crocheting, but check the Greek).

I adore the concept of kindred spirits. It just…tickles my funny bone and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside—kind of like a moldy peach on a hot day in Georgia.

Lately I’ve been thinking a fair amount about what exactly it IS that makes those kindred spirit friendships everything that they are…because hey, if you have the formula, technically that might be helpful, right? Theoretically.

I’ve been really blessed in that I have more than one of those friendships in my life. There’s something remotely magical about each and every one of them.

But what’s characteristic of those friendships?

Well, for starters, they’re emotionally safe friendships. When you spend time with that individual, you know without asking—from experience and from everything that you’ve observed of the person’s character—that they love you, that you love them, and that what is said or done in the context of that friendship is done honestly. There’s no pressure to try to impress, or to pretend to be who we’re not—there’s freedom to be honest about our insecurities, our fears, our failures, and our doubts, as well as the knowledge that that person will rejoice enthusiastically with us in our joys, our victories, and our successes.

Secondly, they protect confidentiality. They know when it’s appropriate to share things outside of the friendship, and when it’s not, and if they’re not sure, they’re willing to ask.

Thirdly, they accept you just as you are without asking or demanding that you change. But they love you enough to challenge you when you head off in the wrong direction.

Fourthly, they’re passionate about the same things that are close to your own heart as well. Whether it’s a burden for homeless people, or the drive to encourage young Christians to create and maintain discipleship accountability relationships with older men and women in the church, or simply a joyful enthusiasm for smashing spiders with rolled newspapers on the weekend, your fundamental drives—the things that really make you tick—are probably nearly the same.

Fifthly, there’s a willingness to overlook faults and laugh off idiosyncrasies that could otherwise be annoying. Willingness to extend grace is a huge part of every friendship, but in kindred spirit friendships, there’s a tacit understanding that we will look for the best in each other, applaud each other’s strengths, ignore the quirks that don’t matter anyway, be honest with each other about our faults, and be open to accountability.

Sixthly, there’s a selfless love that looks at the other person and chooses to see the things that make them incredible, regardless of whether or not others recognize the same thing.

And seventhly (which may not be a word?), they’re joyful people whose presence is life-giving, whose enthusiasm is contagious, and whose love for God, life, and people exudes from them abundantly.

And for all of the above reasons, when you’re with these people, you feel like you’re a little bit more you and a little bit more alive than you could ever be without them. Which is so awesome that it just kinda makes me want to go joyfully murder some spiders with a rolled-up newspaper.