I was thirteen years old, and it was May during my seventh-grade year. Our coach had gathered all of us seventh-grade boys in the high school field house, where the school’s only weight-lifting machine was located. It was hot as blazes. There was no air conditioning, and we only had awning windows that you could open up no higher than 45 degrees.
Coach announced that we had to each bench press 100 pounds to play eighth-grade football. That was no problem for practically every boy because their arms contained something called muscle. I was five feet seven inches tall and weighed 110 pounds. My skinny arms contained merely bone and gristle. Uh oh, this did not bode well for me.
Filled with anxiety and fear, I hung out at the back of the pack, watching most boys bench press one hundred pounds without any problem. At last, the moment arrived, and I could no longer postpone my agony and embarrassment. I had never before benched more than 70 pounds. Now- in one press with everything riding on it-I had to increase my lift by 43%.
Sluggishly, I lay down on the bench as if it were a guillotine. The other boys gathered around. I began my lift. (Keep in mind that I did not need a spotter with a universal gym.) Slowly, I pushed the bar. Because of my previously poor output, I had never even attempted to bench 100 pounds. The bar was as heavy as a Volkswagen. I struggled.
At this point, let me interrupt to invite you to imagine what these fellow seventh-grade boys were saying. Seeing as we were in Junior High, I had anticipated they would be shouting out all of the humiliating catcalls associated with the breed of 13-year-old males.
I was wrong.
A miracle occurred.
Rather than mock or make fun of me, they actually began to urge me on. It started with one or two shouting out, “Come on Edge, you can do this.”
I pushed the bar a little higher.
Now, their words became more inspired, “Keep it up! Keep going! Come on!”
I pressed the bar about halfway up. Then, I reached an impasse and paused.
“Come on Mark! Don’t quit! You can do this.”
My mouth sputtered something between a groan and a shout, and the bar was at 75% of total height.
Then it felt like every boy was gathered around the machine, shouting at me, yelling positive commands to finish the lift.
Desperate, I shoved the bar up with one more exhausted effort. Slowly, painfully, the 100 pounds of mass moved upward, and I fully extended my arms. Triumphant, I let the weights drop.
The room exploded in cheers. Guys gathered around me, patting me on the back and shaking my hand. They were genuinely happy for me that I had passed the test.
That was fifty years ago last month. I think it is safe to say I will never forget that moment. There was absolutely no way I would have passed my test without the encouragement of my classmates.
I write to let you know that encouragement is powerful. It can mean the difference between success and failure, victory and defeat.
Think about all the places people can use encouragement:
- on the job
- at home
- at school
- at church
- at the service club
- and in the old field house at the Universal gym
If you are not the:
- smartest
- best looking
- strongest
- most skilled
you can always be their encourager.
Encourage someone this week,
Mark
You can purchase Mark’s new book Holy Chaos: How To Walk with God in a Frenzied World here: