The Art of Encouragement

There’s one mentor in my life that’s mastered the art of encouragement—let’s call him Chuck. Not even one week after I met Chuck, he told me “I’m proud of you”, and he’s weaved that phrase into every conversation we’ve had since. It’s almost as if every sentence Chuck says must have at least one encouragement in it. Chuck has a voice deep enough to make Morgan Freeman sound like a soprano and a gaze so sincere you can see the twinkle in his eye. If you asked Chuck about himself, he would thank you for asking, answer your question genuinely, and quickly turn the conversation back to you, not because he doesn’t like to talk about himself, but because he’d rather talk about you. Quite frankly, Chuck is humble. Perhaps C.S. Lewis describes Chuck best when he says, “To even get near [humility], even for a moment, is like a drink of cold water to a man in a desert. Do not imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call “humble” nowadays: he will not be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who is always telling you that, of course, he is nobody. Probably all you will think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him it will be because you feel a little envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.” That’s Chuck. You’d be pleased to meet him.

There is something about the way Chuck encourages. If Chuck’s words weren’t stated with such intentionality and sincerity, you would write them off as absurdly bloated flattery. But you don’t. Chuck makes you feel like you’re the only person he’s ever complimented. His kind words shine a light on the very fabric of your personality and put whatever goodness you have front and center. With one encouraging comment from Chuck, you can find yourself questioning how someone could say something so nice about you while simultaneously yearning to become the sort of person he described. Chuck’s exhortations illuminate who you are and prophesy about who you’ll become. And you’ll WANT to become what Chuck says you are, if only to make Chuck proud. In the most rudimentary sense, Chuck’s encouragement gives life.

I want to be like Chuck. All this year I’ve been learning and practicing encouragement. While I once reduced kind words to the sort of thing saved for birthday cards and first dates, I’ve learned that a day without encouragement—whether given or taken—is not a day well spent. But what makes encouragement encouraging? What is it about Chuck’s encouragement that emulates cold water to the parched tongue?

Encouragement is Important

This probably isn’t a point that needs much explaining—but here we go. Encouragement, like rainfall, is not the first thing you thank God for (unless you’re a farmer), but when you are in a discouraging draught, encouragement is the only thing you yearn for. Crops struggle to grow without rainfall and your life will struggle to be fruitful without encouragement. It’s hard to encourage when you aren’t encouraged yourself. Quite simply, the encouraged, encourage and the discouraged, discourage.

Taking this analogy in full, the greatest way to encourage is to draw from a source of encouragement, and the greatest source of encouragement is the God of Encouragement. If you want to learn how to encourage well, then you should know the One who sings praise over you day and night. My friend Chuck is a great encourager simply because he is imitating the One he loves. He is impersonating a God who is constantly thinking well of you; He is not disappointed in you. If you are His child, He is forever proud of you. I mean, just listen to Zephaniah 3:17—“The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” The Lord is not messing around when it comes to encouragement, so it follows that the greatest encouragers are the ones closest to The Great Encourager. He is the fountain from which we draw our strength and pour out the finest praise.

Encouragement is Heartfelt

            The first thing that differentiates encouragement from flattery is the motive behind the words said. We’ve all been pandered and patronized; we’ve been sold to our whole lives. We can tell when someone is trying to butter us up. Words uttered with the motive of receiving rather than giving are not encouragement. Encouragement seeks to give for the sake of giving and it finds that giving is truly better than receiving. If you’ve ever given true heartfelt encouragement, you’ve probably found that you feel as good—if not better—than the person you’re encouraging. Encouragement is a reverse economy: the more you give, the more you get.

           

Encouragement is Specific

            Our culture has an unfortunate habit of calling things “amazing” when they really mean “acceptable” and “awesome” when they really mean “good”. We’ve used up the very peak of our praises on meager things, so when it comes to encouragement, we can barely determine whether we are any more awesome than a “fantastic” milkshake or an “amazing” cup of coffee. We need to elevate our expressed love for each other beyond standard language we use to describe everything else. Quite simply, our encouragement towards one another needs to be as unique as the person we are describing. Great encouragement goes beyond beige, over-inflated superlatives and lands right at the heart of a person’s unique personality. For example, there has never been, nor will there ever be, another you. You are a divine snapshot of the character of God that will never be seen again in history. If I really wanted to encourage you, I would forget simplistic words like “nice” and “good” and “great” and I would search the very depths of who God created you to be, and with the most detail possible, let you know what I see.

Encouragement reveals the valuable qualities of a person whether you believe they “deserve it” or not. If we waited to encourage people until we thought they utterly deserved it, praise would be endangered species. Encouragement is self-fulfilling. It points at both ability and potential. It is who you who are and who you’re becoming. Encouragement, done right, illuminates the glory of God in each and every one of us.

Encouragement is Inspired

            Lastly, encouragement is not derived merely from our own intellect. If you want to be a tremendous encourager, let the Holy Spirit help. Ask God for people to encourage. Ask the Spirit what to say. That’s what He’s there for! They don’t call the Spirit the Encourager for nothin’! Let your words be seasoned with salt—the salt of the Gospel and the seasoning of Christ’s love. The best encouragement comes straight from the Source. There is no greater way to know what to say than to walk with the Holy Spirit. Do you want to be used by Jesus? Stay close to Him. I guarantee He will use you. It is as simple as that. If you start asking God to give you one person today to love and encourage, you’ll be amazed—and sometimes scared—of how God answers your request. It’s a risky prayer, but it’s a risk worth taking.

Ultimately, I pray you have at least one Chuck in your life. You need them. I’m married to one of the greatest encouragers I know, and she is so precious that I’m not willing to share! Okay, maybe I’ll share. It’s better to give than to receive, right? Nevertheless, no matter where it comes from, encouragement remains one of the most empowering and fulfilling activities in which we can take part of. I hope you were encouraged by this reflection, and if you actually read this smattering of incoherent thoughts, you’ve encouraged me too. 

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Humble Ambition

Every brand has a motto—just do it, eat mor chikin, better ingredients/better pizza. The motto acts as a life mission of sorts, representing the end goal of an organization while encompassing the general feeling that organization wants to capture. Moreover, it helps if the motto is annoying enough to get stuck in your head—hellooooo 5 dollar footlong.  In my career, they tell me to work on my personal brand, and  if I had to give a motto for myself, it would simply be “I’m learning”, because I find that almost always, I am doing just that. The more I learn, the more I want to learn and the more I realize that I’ve got a lot to learn.

One expression of learning is written reflection AKA what you’re reading right now. These written words do more than just organize my thoughts; they provide an outlet of information that hardens into a life lesson learned as it pours onto the page. I hope if you choose to read these words, that you’ll take each word carefully—and ignore the grammar mistakes—so you might learn with me. I’m no expert on life, but I can tell you this: I’m learning.

Humble Ambition

I’m approaching a milestone in my career, and in August, I’ll take on a new role at work. While the change itself is nothing monumental, the impending adjustment is enough to cause me to stop and contemplate what exactly I want my career to look like. As I look into the future, my opportunistic personality bristles at the thought of acquiring more power, more acclaim, and more wealth, yet—fortunately for me—there is still a voice loud enough to direct my attention elsewhere. While the mightiest businessmen laud selfish ambition, the Holy Spirit whispers that it might be better to come last, rather than first. I see wisdom in ambition but joy in humility, and I find myself wondering how to reconcile the utility of aspiration with the merits of meekness. As I look into my ever changing [pick a number]-year plan, I notice  myself getting caught up in an endless pursuit of achievements and accolades. I know Jesus teaches me to be “as shrewd as a serpent but as innocent as a dove,” but how do I become shrewd without becoming the Serpent? What am I striving for? Is it possible to be humble and ambitious?

After spending months trying to figure out what I want to achieve, I’ve determined that I want my greatest successes to be friendships. While common business practice is to use the people around me to acquire greater wealth (i.e. networking), I would much rather use my worldly wealth to acquire greater friendships—like the shrewd manager in Luke 16. At the end of my career, it won’t be the long-service awards or the retirement fund I’m most proud of, but instead the relationships that grew out of Christ’s love. If we truly are eternal beings, than the shrewd action plan is to use temporary supplies to secure eternal payoffs. I realize that “I want to make friends” isn’t a traditional career map, but then again, my career isn’t exactly my life’s purpose.

            In a sense, my ambition is to become more humble—not that I want to think less of myself, but I would rather think of myself less. Similarly, if my ambition is to become a great leader, than my plan of action is to be a great servant.  Beautiful things happen when humility and leadership become friends. There is now no doubt in my mind that leaders worth following are those who lead from behind in importance but ahead in example. While a self-ambitious leader presses off the shoulders of their followers to achieve new heights, it takes a selfless leader to elevate an entire group of people from below. That is my humble ambition—to make myself and everyone around me more like Christ through love, encouragement, and prayer.

Creator vs. Consumer

            In my analysis of my future plans, I’ve realized that most of my “to-dos” derive from what I can consume, rather than what I can create. My list of purchases extends 5 years out, my list of new restaurants is ever-growing, and my list of places to visit might as well be a world atlas. Everyday holds a constant stream of food, entertainment, and Netflix while future plans are riddled with vacations to take, things to purchase, and experiences to try. But while consumption has its rewards, my Creator is calling me to be like Him. In all of recorded history, God is creating, healing, building, and rebuilding; when we create anything, we are becoming more like Him. The truth is, clothes fade. Entertainment ends. New toys get old quick. You’re not going to see my impressive binge-watching skills on my resume and my satisfaction from a good meal lasts about 15 minutes. You won’t find me on my death bed saying “You know what? I was just too generous. I wish I would have watched more Netflix instead!”

            I want to grow friendships, build business value, cultivate life-long memories, plant encouragement, spread hope, establish peace, create love, and love creating. If we can only reap what I sow, then a lifetime of sports, Netflix, video games, food, sleep, and vacation isn’t a fruitful harvest. However, one problem with ‘creating’ is that it isn’t as fun or amusing as consuming. It’s hard work. It’s much easier to watch Netflix for 3 hours than it is to pray for 15 minutes. It takes less emotional energy to assume everyone is doing alright than to intentionally encourage someone even if they may not “deserve” it. It’s more work walking with others through hardships than it is minding your own business. While consuming is about what you can get, creating is about what you can give.

            One of the real changes to result from this reflection has been the cancellation of Netflix (Gasp!), the deletion of all my video games, and the extinction of cable television. While I may now have to wrestle with boredom every once in a while, my focus is no longer how can I pass this time? But rather, who can I invest this time in? Whether I choose to invest my time in myself, my wife, or my neighbors down the hall, I know that time spent creating laughter, prayer, reflection, memories, and encouragement is time well spent.

An Awe-Full Life

            One of the reasons I love to travel is because I find a sense of awe in new surroundings, and that awe leads me to a new appreciation of who God is. I’m convinced that awe is one of the purest forms of worship. There is nothing that exalts the Creator more than being in awe of His creation, whether it’s a miraculous healing or a summer sunset. Awe doesn’t have to come from the Grand Canyon; it can come from daily thankfulness, from silent prayer, from goofiness, from dirt, from a smile, and from a tear. Awe is not restricted to Hawaii (though Hawaii certainly helps). Awe is as simple as a breath and as complex as the starry sky.

 As I lay out my ever-changing life plans, I want each moment to ooze with awe: awe in His financial providence, awe from His natural creation, awe in my love for my wife, awe in my friendships, awe in childhood, awe in parenthood, awe in my career path, awe in silence, awe in music, awe in my five senses, awe in blessing, awe in tragedy, awe in evangelism, awe in my salvation. I have no idea what my life will look like 10 years from now, 1 year from now, even 5 minutes from now, but I pray that I might live an awe-full life.

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Delightful Obscurity

A Shift in Rank

It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged; let me tell you why. Ever since I graduated, I went from senior in college to a freshman in adult land, from mentor to newbie, from old-and-wise to young-and-stupid. The next stage in life brought me from a peak of seniority to a state of adult infancy. No longer do people come to me for advice; I’m the new guy. I’m not the leader of any bible studies or accountability groups. I’m the newlywed novice learning how to live day to day. I’ve learned that in college, I was merely a toddler amongst babies. And it’s not that I’ve become any less wise or motivated, but rather, my perspective has grown beyond my vision. The more I know, the more I realize there’s so much I don’t know. In essence, the reason I haven’t blogged in a while is because I’m not really sure anyone still cares what I have to say. So I’m sorry if you’ve missed my writing (all two of you). Perhaps I can catch you up here.

Head down, Mind open

In the last two years, I’ve put my head down and kept my mind open. I’ve stopped raising my hand to answer the questions of life and I’ve focused simply on what’s in front of me. I’ve kept my mind open to what has come my way and I’ve devoted myself to learning how to live as wisely as I can—with marriage, with money, with time, with career. I’ve found mentors who are not merely a few years older—as in college—but a few decades. I’ve scoured wise minds for the keys to managing money shrewdly, serving my wife humbly, advancing my career honorably, appreciating time appropriately, and giving my attention selectively. I’ve been busy living, learning, and learning how to live. Meanwhile, the temptation to keep up with the Jones’ is ever present, not simply in HDTVs and cars, but vacations, homes, pets, babies, and experiences. The enticement for a newly minted, married millennial is to look at all the things I don’t have and sacrifice everything I have now to get them now. But fortunately for myself (and Rachel), the call to finer things and fancier experiences has yet to take us down a path we don’t really want to go.

Less Extraordinary, More Extra Ordinary

College was a passionate time in my life. Everything had an astonishing feel to it—a newness that covered every experience in excitement and hope. There was always a problem to fix, a person to pursue, a prayer to pray, and a purpose to find. Community was effortless. Monotony was rare. Romantic love grew with a new sheen of effervescent exhilaration. But this new stage in my life has a different feel. Time doesn’t move as measured and purposely, but rather, it slips through my fingers as the business of life draws me in. Community is not easy. Heck, it’s barely even existent unless I do something about it. My attention is no longer focused on global movements to rally around, but instead, small actions I intentionally execute day in and day out to lead to a larger purpose. But this stage is no better or worse than college. The last two years have been delightfully ordinary. Now passion takes on the form of repeated daily experiences rather than grand sweeping gestures of emotion. It‘s now a humble rhythm of little delights and stresses. What it lacks in excitement, it makes up with contentment.

Furthermore, my walk with God is no longer a sprint from one measure of faith to another, but rather a long obedience in the same direction. My joy is no longer characterized by wisps of fanciful tales and extraordinary circumstances. Instead, my joy is captured in repetitive prayer, consistent thankfulness, and a calmer disposition. My worship comes out of the simple days in the office, the sweet looks my wife gives me over a warm meal, and the delightful conversations I share with the few people I choose to spend my life with. As I mentioned, this new stage is just as wonderful as the last, but it is not similar in the least.

Secretly Awesome

I’m about to let out a secret of ours: Rachel and I are trying to be secretly awesome. Now I understand that publicly declaring this in a blog for the entire world to see is counterproductive, but this is a lesson we’ve been ruminating on for the better part of our marriage. We’ve found that out of college and into the “real world”, the people we strive to be like are no longer the Francis Chans, the John Pipers, and the David Platts of the world, but rather the people we discover in the background that operate with a divine excellence in secrecy. Rachel and I have encountered super heroes hidden in the darkest shadows of obscurity, and we’re doing our best to imitate them. As we’ve begun to veil our efforts in living a meaningful life, we’ve found that a life lived without the burden of impressing others is quite extraordinary. We are inspired by our mentors who rarely expose their awesomeness until it’s brimming to the point of no hiding. So as Rachel and I grow to love and live together, we are teaching each other to be secretly awesome.

Create, Don’t Consume

Our society is all about consumption and our economy is dependent on it, but as children of God, we don’t imitate our Creator by consuming, but by creating. I’ve found myself getting caught in patterns of mass consumption—whether it’s video games, Netflix, or UK Basketball. While none of these things are inherently wrong in themselves, I want my life to represent what I create, not what I consume. No one will care if I’ve watched every episode of Sherlock twice. The satisfaction of beating a video game lasts no further than the last cut scene. Even as an ardent foodie, there will never be a meal that won’t wear off after a few hours. Even though I consume without thinking, I have to force myself to create. I have to focus on growing and nurturing the love my wife and I share. I have to spend time putting quality into my work. I have to intentionally reach out to my friends to create friendship and community. Though creating isn’t automatic, it is the most meaningful thing about what I do. No one cares about what we consume; it is only what we create that lasts longer than the moment itself.

I’m done living defensively. I’m done trying to get every person to like me; I want to focus on the relationships that glorify God. I’m done praying for safety; I want to pray for God’s glory. I’m done worrying about manners; I want to worry about loving my neighbor. I’m done thinking Satan has some kind of power over me; I want to plunder Hell to populate Heaven. Satan doesn’t care whether I spend my day looking at pornography or at Facebook, so long as I am not looking at Jesus. Well I’m done fortifying my castle; I’m learning to live with Jesus.

So there you go. I’m tired of worrying about how many people read my blog; I’m trying to be secretly awesome anyway. I would rather thrive in obscurity than suffer in the spotlight. Besides, the Kingdom of God belongs to the meek and the mild—the ordinary, not the extraordinary. Won’t you join me in the joyful, secret, awesomeness of wise obscurity?

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