I was standing in the supermarket after one of the hardest times in my life when an old acquaintance walked up to me. “Could you use a hug?” he asked.
I hadn’t realized until that moment how much I needed exactly that. He didn’t say, “I heard what happened,” or offer advice. He just saw me and offered exactly what I needed. I started crying right there by the potatoes – not only from what I was going through, but from the chizuk.
We all need chizuk. Life can be hard, and when we’re struggling, we need others to help lift us up.
When someone is suffering, some people avoid them altogether. Others mean well but speak from their own need to feel better, offering comments like “Everything happens for a reason” or “I’m sure you’ll be ok.” However well-intentioned, these words add distress to someone already hurting.
What’s behind both responses? The inability to sit with discomfort. In my work with bereaved families, I see this clearly, but it’s true across all kinds of suffering – there’s even research now on “cancer ghosting,” where people disappear because they can’t handle the reality of serious illness.
If you want to give chizuk but feeling uncomfortable, that’s good. That discomfort means you’re resonating. The key is holding that feeling – letting it move you to reach out and care, while not letting your chizuk become about soothing your own distress.
Sometimes chizuk is practical support. It’s just showing up, letting someone know you see them, that you haven’t forgotten. That you’re still there.