A five year alongsider journey I never asked for

There’s a saying: ‘Kindness draws you to people, but patience keeps you there.’ 

If there was ever a story that lived this out in real time, it’s my story with Sandra (name changed). And let me say this from the start: I never signed up for this alongsider journey. I didn’t want it. I didn’t pray for it. And for a long time, I certainly didn’t enjoy it. 

We often tell the beautiful alongsider stories – the ones filled with roses, warm friendships, and people who are eager to grow. But many stories of discipleship are slower, heavier, and full of tears. Sometimes you only realise you were discipling someone after the miracle happens. This was one of those stories. 

A workplace that became my prison

Sandra was my colleague in London, and from the start, things were rocky. She criticised everything – from my work to my smallest decisions. Even basic conversations could escalate instantly. I learned quickly that replying or pushing back would only trigger an email war I’d eventually lose. 

In my manager’s eyes, Sandra could do no wrong, and I constantly felt I had to watch my back. Every day, I dreaded going in. Every night, I came home exhausted, telling the same painful story through tears. 

And I couldn’t leave. My visa depended on that job. It felt like a five year jail term with no early release. 

Then came a restructure. Everyone else on my team left. My pay was cut. And, unbelievably, Sandra and I ended up sharing the same role. I hit a breaking point. I prayed, in desperation, that God would remove her. But God had other plans. 

Seeing her pain… before seeing any change

For the longest time, all I could ask was, ‘Why me? And why her?’ 

But slowly God began shifting something in my heart. I started noticing cracks in Sandra’s hard exterior. She carried her own load of pain – an absent partner, pressures as a single mother, and childhood wounds that shaped how she interacted with the world. 

One morning she came in crying over something happening at home. I surprised both of us by asking, ‘Do you want me to pray?’ At first she snapped defensively whenever I mentioned God. But over time, in those moments when she felt helpless, she let me pray with her. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t a breakthrough. But something was opening. 

It started with simply seeing her – truly seeing her humanity beyond the behaviour that hurt me. 

If I’m honest, at first I hoped that being kind might make her kinder to me. But God slowly changed my motives. I prayed for her. I cooked her Nigerian meals (food can soften even the hardest armour!). I invited her to my daughter’s christening, where she encountered the warmth of the whole church community. I think that was the first time she experienced the unconditional love I had already received in Christ. 

Seeds were being sown – small, easily missed seeds. But seeds nonetheless. 

When seeds start sprouting

After the christening, something changed. She no longer became tense when I mentioned God. I talked about faith naturally in conversation. I stopped judging her and simply kept offering Jesus – gently, quietly, consistently. 

And then one day, almost shockingly, Sandra started going to church. Then to Alpha. And then she got baptised. 

Listening to her share her testimony brought the whole journey into sharp focus. She said: 

‘I had this amazing friend who prayed for me even when I made life very hard for her. I visited her church and saw how loved and happy they were… I wanted what she had.’ 

That day, everything made sense. Sandra had been living with deep pain. She couldn’t give love because she had never experienced God’s love. And yet God’s light – despite my frustration, tears and desire to escape – had quietly been shining through. 

Today, I call Sandra my friend. Something I never would have believed. 

She has moved to a new job now, but we still talk. She is thriving in her faith. After she introduced us to her son’s family, she wrote to me: 

‘We may never have known such a relationship with the Lord if it wasn’t for you… He has mended me in so many ways you wouldn’t believe. I know where my help comes from now… His light shone on me through you and I will be forever grateful that your love for Him brought His Word to me.’  

Those words are a reminder: God really does write better stories than we do.  

For the alongsider who is tired

This journey taught me that being an alongsider isn’t about following a formula. Some relationships are easy; others feel like a daily act of perseverance.  

God is often doing his deepest work in the places we can’t see, over far longer timelines than we would ever choose. 

So, if the relationship feels heavy, or messy, or painfully slow, that doesn’t mean you are doing it wrong. If you feel tired or discouraged, or unsure whether any seed is actually taking root – you are in very good company. 

Keep praying.
Keep sowing kindness.
Keep being intentional.
And when your patience runs out (which it will), bring that person – and yourself – back to God. 

He is patient with them.
He is patient with you.
And His timing is always perfect. 

So, as Paul encourages all us tired alongsiders, ‘Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up’ (Galatians 6:9).