When I was in college, I ran on the track team. (No, don’t be impressed. I was a walk-on. At an NJCAA school. In Idaho. And my coach wouldn’t even let me run the 400 m at nationals, which I qualified for, because he was afraid I’d embarrass myself. And the team.) Track practice included weight training three times a week. There are a few things that may be helpful for you to know: 1) we trained in the same gym as the football players, and 2) I was a weakling when it comes to upper body strength. I mean weakling in the truest sense. I lifted only the bar when bench pressing. The bar was plenty heavy for me . . . no weights attached. Embarrassing. Especially considering that the football players were bench pressing my body weight. Or their body weight. Or both combined!
Well, one day a football player asked if I’d spot him on the bench press. I laughed out loud and asked him how on earth I, Miss Weakling, could be of any help to him if he couldn’t return the weights to the weight rack. He informed me that even the slightest assistance from me would be all he would need; thus, my weak arms would be sufficient.
I’ve often thought of that situation and have realized that at times we may feel that in order to be a great friend we need to be superhuman. Fix everything. Contribute some earth-shattering all-consuming help to our friends. Truth is, even the slightest assistance can make all the difference to them. Maybe just being there to comfort them. Give them perspective. Or advice. Love. It doesn’t take a monumental gesture or effort to make a difference in someone’s life. It can be the smallest things that are the most meaningful. So, be there for your friends. Assist them. Be there to spot them. Just in case. It can make all the difference.