The older I get, the more I realize just how many people are carrying invisible weight.
Struggles with adolescent children. The pressure of launching sons and daughters into adulthood while hoping and praying they’ll carry with them a love for Jesus and a passion for his kingdom. Marriages entering their second or third decade, strained by changing bodies and shifting priorities. Friendships that go bad, not with dramatic betrayals but with small disappointments that leak trust over time. Mental health challenges that alter personalities, muting a few traits while amplifying others. Church turmoil that shows up in leadership failures, fractured vision, or exhaustion from unresolved conflict.
What sometimes surprises me isn’t the number of people struggling but how many feel alone in their struggle, as if they’re the only ones dealing with a particular burden or disappointment. They’re not. Behind the curated images on social media and the happy families at church, the strains are there—an especially difficult adolescent, a spouse’s sudden loss of spiritual fervor, or a father’s disorientation regarding his future job prospects.
What people need is encouragement. But not the soft version.
Encouragement Is Strengthening More than Soothing
Too often, encouragement gets reduced to comfort. It’s reassurance without resolve, a version of sympathy that never rises above affirmation. It’s the kind of encouragement that says “Everything will be OK” without pressing deeper into what faithfulness looks like when things, most definitely, are not. It may feel warm, even kind, but it’s a little like handing a cup of hot chocolate to someone starving. Warm and tasty, but there’s no nutrition in marshmallows.
Scripture envisions something sturdier. When the New Testament speaks of encouragement, we see a connection to endurance, obedience, and action. Paul urges the Romans to “encourage one another” (1 Thessalonians 5:11), in the context of his call to perseverance and hope. The author of Hebrews exhorts believers to “encourage each other daily . . . so that none of you is hardened by sin’s deception” (Heb. 3:13). Encouragement isn’t merely emotional reinforcement but spiritual strengthening.
The word itself points us in that direction. To encourage isn’t just to soothe; it’s to put courage into someone—to strengthen the will, to stiffen the spine, to remind a weary saint why the path is worth walking and how to keep going.
I’ve learned this most clearly when I’m the one in need. When I’m struggling—whether in marriage, parenting, ministry, or faith—I don’t only need friends who understand me. I need friends who help me endure. Friends who can see the landscape, who neither deny the struggle nor dramatize it, and then help me see the path through it. That kind of encouragement asks something of me. It prompts me to be ready for action. Ready to persevere. Ready to pursue goodness and beauty, even when the cost is high and the outcome uncertain.
Think of the coach who sees the score, the clock, and the strength of the opposing team—and still puts the ball back in your hands. No, victory isn’t always guaranteed, but quitting isn’t an option. Courage calls us forward.
No wonder Scripture ties encouragement so closely to courage in the face of fear. Again and again, God’s word to his people isn’t “Relax” but “Be strong and courageous” (Josh. 1:9). Paul tells the Corinthians, “Be alert, stand firm in the faith, be courageous, be strong” (1 Cor. 16:13). Even comfort, in the Christian sense, is meant to fortify. God “encourages us in all our troubles, so that we may be able to encourage those experiencing any trouble” (2 Cor. 1:4, Mounce).
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, writing under immense pressure, reminded us,
The Christian needs another Christian who speaks God’s Word to him. He needs him again and again when he becomes uncertain and discouraged, for by himself he cannot help himself without belying the truth. He needs his brother as a bearer and proclaimer of the divine word of salvation. He needs his brother solely because of Jesus Christ. The Christ in his own heart is weaker than the Christ in the word of his brother; his own heart is uncertain, his brother’s is sure.
Courage to Give and Receive Encouragement
Here’s the paradox: real friendship requires courage long before encouragement ever enters the picture. Friendship requires vulnerability. Initiative. A willingness to step toward someone without knowing whether the gesture will be welcomed or declined. In a world where relationships are often transactional—built on status, usefulness, or shared pursuits—deep friendship is tough.
It takes no courage to maintain a network of acquaintances. It takes no courage to add Facebook friends. It takes no courage to pour out your troubles to a chatbot. But courage is essential if you want to invite someone into the unvarnished reality of your life and to stay present when they invite you into theirs.
Encouragement matters because endurance matters. Life will throw punches. Disappointment will come. The encouraging friend isn’t the one who denies the pain or rushes past lament. The encouraging friend stands ringside and puts courage into you, calling you up and forward.
If you want to encourage someone, don’t minimize the struggle. Name it. Listen. Then remind them of the good they’re pursuing. Point them back to God’s promises. Speak hope that’s anchored, not vague. And, when appropriate, call them to the next faithful step, no matter how small, no matter how costly.
And if you need encouragement, don’t settle for the soothing substitute. Seek out people who love you enough to tell you the truth and believe in you enough to call you forward. Receive courage as a gift, and then, when you’re able, pass it on. Because true encouragement isn’t about feeling better. It’s about summoning the courage that helps us endure.
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