Sometimes, all you need is a hug. But occasionally, a swift kick in the ass is necessary.

King David is my favorite character in Scripture. Friend of God. Fearless in battle. Born into an unimpressive pedigree yet chosen to lead a nation. David was a poet and a warrior, a king with the blood of giants dripping from his sword—and yet, his crown couldn’t mask his many character flaws.

Spoiler Alert: David had a dark side. The giant-killing king was equally known for his deeply flawed leadership and epic failures in judgment. From a distance, David had everything: a throne, an army, and the favor of God. But when you’re unaccountable, it’s easy to lose your way.

One instance in his life drives this point home. Kings led their warriors into battle. But while his army was out fighting and dying, David stayed home and had sex with his neighbor’s wife. And when she got pregnant? David orchestrated her husband’s murder. Did I mention her husband was one of David’s soldiers? And when the sex and murder show was over, David sat unbowed and unchallenged on his throne. 

Sure, the palace buzzed with whispers, but no one dared speak the truth to the king. Not the priests. Not his family. And certainly not his warriors. No one. 

Except David’s friend, Nathan.

But Nathan didn’t storm the palace waving a judgment flag. He didn’t shout David’s sin from a roof top or sing a dirge in the streets. No, he was a man after my own heart. 

Nathan came armed with a story.

A poor man. A beloved lamb. Stolen by a rich, greedy neighbor. Oh, King David, whatever shall we do?

David—blinded by his own sin—burned with rage. 

“Off with his head!”

Hook, line, and sinker. Nathan locked eyes with the king while putting on his pair of ass-kicking boots.

“You are that man!”

Ass kicked, the dam broke. David repented. Not because someone coddled him. Not because someone hugged him. But because someone had the guts to tell him the truth when no one else would.

That friends, is covenant friendship.

Most of our friendships are contractual. Contractual friendships have escape clauses and can be torn up if there’s a breech. No so with covenant friendship.

Covenant friends comfort you when you’re down—and confront you when you’ve lost your way. They know when to hug you or when to kick you in the ass. The best ones know how to do both simultaneously, because covenant friendship isn’t just about presence. 

It’s about purpose.

In his book, Tribe: On Homecoming and Belonging, Sebastian Junger says humans need deep connection—or else we flounder. That’s not sappiness. That’s survival. Which leads to my question. 

Who’s your covenant friend? Who is that special someone who hugs you when you're hurting—and then turns around and boots you in the backside when you're drifting?

The Bible is full of covenant friendships—deep bonds that aren’t based on likes and follows, but on loyalty and truth. Covenant friendship bends. It flexes. It withstands life’s storms.

Listen, Jesus had an inner circle. He loved all twelve, but He drew Peter, James, and John closer than the nine.

He hugged Peter: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.”

And He kicked Peter: “Get behind me, Satan!”

If Jesus prioritized friendships—shouldn’t we?

Now you get to ask the question: “Who is the friend who would do this for me?” If a name or a face appears—reach out and tell them. It’ll deepen the bond.

And if no face emerges?

Well, consider this a friendly  kick in the pants and go find your covenant friend.

Life is a mystery. But this? This is clear. You weren’t meant to walk this path alone.