I don’t need a pocket full of gravel if I have a few gems.
I wrote this as encouragement to a former coworker the other day while expressing gratitude for her friendship. Even I’m surprised that I can occasionally be poetic—as this just came from my fingers to my phone while texting.
If we pause to think about this, we often find ourselves collecting something—anything—including “friends.” I use quotes because we have to realize that not everybody we are seemingly friendly with is actually a friend. Most of us probably think, “Yeah, that’s common sense,” even as we collect them as tokens via Facebook or other social platforms, still referring to them as friends. Probably much less rude than saying, “This guy I know, Joe,” but honestly, not terribly realistic.
Humans are social creatures, to be sure, though we all need solitude as well—even the most outgoing of extroverts. I tend to be very outgoing, but I find myself becoming increasingly guarded. I’m not a cynic, I don’t think—but I’m finding that I resonate more with stoicism these days.
Tracy Lawrence recorded a song called “Find Out Who Your Friends Are” (written by Casey Beathard and Ed Hill¹) in which he expresses a truth we all recognize:
“Everybody wants to slap your back Wants to shake your hand When you’re up on top of that mountain But let one of those rocks give way Then you slide back down Look up and see who’s around then… This ain’t where the road comes to an end This ain’t where the bandwagon stops This is just one of those times when A lot of folks jump off.”
We’ve all experienced it, and the number-one place it happens is often work. I’ve started to categorize these folks as “work friends.” Maybe this is obvious to everyone else and I’m just learning, but I’m pretty outgoing. I even joked with a friend (ironically, a true friend I met at work) that I’m about to be: “Wife, child, child, orange cat, cat with thumbs, clingy female cat, and to heck with everybody else.”
Why?
On November 3, 2025—just a couple of days before my birthday—I was called into an unexpected meeting and informed that my role was eliminated. I was about 90% surprised, given some of the reorganizations that had already been happening, but I had assumed my specialized licenses would protect me.
I was wrong.
I was simply told, “You’re done. Here’s HR, severance information, get off our network, goodbye.”
I get it—corporations, even those that talk about being compassionate and caring, are cold-blooded. I have opinions on all of this, but I will keep them to myself for several reasons, as they are very uncharitable.
I sat for a few moments to gather my thoughts, told my wife, and then texted a couple of people I thought were on my side. Then I sat on my couch in disbelief. I had believed I was at the company I was going to retire from, in a role I was good at, with solid support. This was not to be, and that’s fine—I won’t lie and say I hold no ill will, as I am puzzled why I was selected. Those who remained simply are not qualified—literally—to do my job.
Please note: I was almost immediately offered three positions at three different places and was hired very quickly. I chose to stay away from work until December 1 to reset, to make sure I didn’t carry forward any bitterness. The only downside is that my body had become accustomed to, “I’ll get up whenever I darn well please, thank you,” so waking up for my first day at the new company was a bit of a struggle. While I actually took the lowest offer, which was a substantial cut from my previous role, I should end up earning more overall.
I initially heard from nearly everybody I reached out to. Then reality slapped me in the face—they stopped. Not all, but the ones I thought were my closest allies, including one who claimed I was their best friend.
I know the usual excuse: “It’s awkward.” I reached out and said, “I’m the same dope I was at 2 this afternoon (the meeting was at 2:15), no reason to be weird.” Several didn’t respond—somewhat surprising.
Even worse, the majority of these folks claimed to be my biggest supporters… and worse still: “Christians.”
I’ve long since realized that those who make it a point to talk “Jesus this” and “God that” in a work context are often disingenuous—especially when it’s clear that their faith is performative. The most verbal abuse I ever got from customers often came from emails like ILoveJesus@God.com or PastorJimmy@FirstChurchofKindleCounty.net. I wish I were kidding, but I am not.
Look, I wasn’t the company pastor, and none of these folks were my congregation. If they’d said, “You suck, hail Cthulu,” it wouldn’t have bothered me. But sadly, performative faith is real. As Craig Groeschel said in The Christian Atheist, people love to talk about how spiritual they are when they find out they’re with clergy, yet give clear indications that they do not truly know Jesus.²
In my case, it showed in attitude and behavior—only treating me kindly if they needed something, bragging about nightly inebriation, and so on.
But the worst were the liars—and I’m not talking about spiritual things, but provable lies about others. All the while, they smiled in your face… meaning they were almost certainly bashing you behind your back.
The “best friend” did this to me, and while I cannot prove it, I’m confident it was a primary reason I was selected for elimination. (Note: I am taking steps to ensure accountability. I have zero interest in returning to the company, but if there isn’t any accountability, who knows who else might be damaged?)
I won’t go into too many details, other than to say a letter was received and it seems I was accused of being its sender—and I was called “irate” in a meeting when no such thing occurred. The problem is this is the epitome of “he said, she said,” and since no investigation was completed, their word was taken as truth. (Please note: I rarely lose my temper, and when I do, it’s likely because WVU is playing poorly because, you know, reasons.)
I do have a point to all of this, and it may sound like a pitch for stoicism: when I was injured at the U.S. Air Force Academy, I learned that nobody has your best interests at heart except YOU. This isn’t strictly true—my wife, children, parents, in-laws, and our collective grandparents do—but work folks? Not a chance. And this shouldn’t surprise anyone.
Want to know who knows this best? Yeah…Christ.
I am not saying this is identical to my situation, but consider the track of Jesus’ relationships:
- Jesus fed thousands with a few loaves and fish . He had thousands wanting to see and hear Him.
- That number diminished to hundreds when things got difficult (see the aftermath of the Transfiguration and the hard teachings, e.g., John 6:60–66).
- Then there were twelve—His original apostles .
- Then three in the Garden of Gethsemane .
- And only one—John—at the foot of the cross .
Top of the mountain? People will want to be with you. But when it gets hard? Not a chance.
So, while I write this partly for catharsis, I caution you as a man of faith to protect yourself: yes, we serve, love (agape), teach, and reach out. Just don’t pretend that everyone you contact is your friend. And this is biblical—you must be willing to brush the dust off and leave .
Remember:
- Proverbs 13:20: “Walk with the wise and become wise, for a companion of fools suffers harm.”
- 1 Thessalonians 5:11: “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.”
- Galatians 6:9: “And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.”
Choose your companions wisely, guard your heart, and continue to walk in faith. True friends—those grounded in Christ—are gems worth holding onto.
¹ “Find Out Who Your Friends Are” – Words and music by Casey Beathard and Ed Hill, © 2006 (Sony/ATV Music Publishing). ² Craig Groeschel, The Christian Atheist: Believing in God but Living as If He Doesn’t Exist (Zondervan, 2010).