Over the summer, the youth were challenged to build the tallest structure possible out of dry pasta and marshmallows. Our first attempt collapsed. Then I remembered hearing that the pyramid is the strongest structure known to man. We changed course and built an elaborate system of pyramids—and it held (I still think we won.)

Ask any structural engineer, and they’ll affirm the strength of a pyramid.
Ask any statistician, and they’ll tell you the power of three data points.
Ask any storyteller, and they will tell you a great tale in three acts.
Ask any Christian theologian, and they’ll point to the Trinity—three persons, one essence.
Ask Solomon, and he’ll remind you that “a cord of three strands is not easily broken.”
Ask C.S. Lewis, and he’ll reflect on the power of three friends:

“In each of my friends there is something that only some other friend can fully bring out. By myself I am not large enough to call the whole man into activity; I want other lights than my own to show all his facets. Now that Charles is dead, I shall never again see Ronald’s [Tolkien’s] reaction to a specifically Charles joke. Far from having more of Ronald, having him ‘to myself’ now that Charles is away, I have less of Ronald…Two friends delight to be joined by a third…”

True friendship multiplies, not diminishes—each friend draws out parts of the others that would otherwise remain unseen.

From the very beginning, Genesis 1 repeats God’s affirmation: “And it was good.” But then Genesis 2 breaks the pattern. God looks at Adam and says, “It is not good for man to be alone.” (v.18) Before the serpent ever appears, before sin enters the garden, something is already “not good.”

Then God does something curious—He sends Adam to work. Adam names every animal from aardvark to zebra, yet “no suitable helper was found.” Why? Because God wanted Adam to feel his loneliness before He fixed it. Only then does God create Eve.

Here we learn that being human means being relational. We were made not just to walk with God, but to walk with one another.

As C.S. Lewis discovered, the triad—the circle of three—is the strongest form of friendship. Modern small groups of twelve or fifteen are valuable, but what we really need is a tighter circle: two true friends we can call at 3 a.m. and know they’ll answer.

I once went through a dark season where I thought I had that kind of friend. As I poured out my fears and pain, he said, “Well, what do you want me to do about it?” I realized he wasn’t part of my triad—he was a “legacy friend,” someone to reminisce with but not rely on for the burdens of my heart.

So I prayed for at least two men who could walk with me. I learned that having two mattered—not just one—so that neither carried the full weight alone. That’s the power of three.

So who are two others you can depend on?

If you’re not sure where to start, begin as C.S. Lewis did—with the simple recognition. Look for someone who shares your values, is in close proximity, and is walking a similar road.

“Friendship arises out of mere Companionship when two or more of the companions discover that they have in common some insight or interest or even taste which the others do not share and which, till that moment, each believed to be his own unique treasure (or burden). The typical expression of opening Friendship would be something like, “What? You too? I thought I was the only one…It is when two such persons discover one another, when, whether with immense difficulties and semi-articulate fumblings or with what would seem to us amazing and elliptical speed, they share their vision – it is then that Friendship is born. And instantly they stand together in an immense solitude.”

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~C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves