Wednesday was one of those terrible horrible no-good very-bad days.

I don’t mean to sound dramatic, but by the time my clock said 10am I was ready to charter a private jet to the Alaskan wilderness. Anything to get away from PEOPLE. (Mostly 13-year-old people). It seemed everything I tried to do that day backfired. And on top of my failures, a smattering of scheduling conflicts and an untimely email invited my tired body into the fetal position under my desk. (I didn’t have time to accept the invitation, though it was very enticing). I think I consumed a gallon of Diet Coke instead.

I budged my way through worship practice (NOTE: HYMNS ARE IMPOSSIBLE TO PLAY ON THE GUITAR SO DON’T EVEN TRY), and was ready to face plant into Cloud Bed when I remembered I had made late night dinner plans with my friend Becca. Becca is a good friend, a professional listener (all of my former roommates that survived the year are knighted in that category), and she has this calming presence that subsides even the worst of storms for a few minutes. As we sat on our favorite hill overlooking the legion ballpark, I vomited all of my frustrations about the spinning top my life had become.

She listened and nodded occasionally. We tossed out some rhetorical questions and hypothetical adventures to an imaginary land far far away. But then we climbed down the hill and walked back to real life, where the discouragement and closed doors seemed to reign supreme.

I stumbled into my house after my bedtime and noticed a letter on the counter with my name on it. As I looked at the return address, I saw the name of a former camper I counseled 4 years ago. What in the world was she sending me?

I opened her card and a sheet of paper fell to the ground – enclosed was an essay she had written about me in Bible school. She said she hoped it would “encourage me.” After finishing the note, I picked up the typed thesis. In a few short sentences, she wrote about some of the qualities she saw in me, and how they influenced her. There was nothing surface about it, this essay wasn’t generic. As I read those sentences, I felt so known – so honored.

Why this strikes me is that I told Becca that night (in tears) that I just needed a little bit of encouragement. Just even a small sign that God sees me and knows me, and that there is a plan to redeem this season of dead ends.

I asked for it on Thursday. It was postmarked on Monday, three days before the request left my mouth.

I share this mostly because God is a good Dad. And He knows His kids, He knows what they actually need. But I also write this because I’m challenged. So often I see someone and think “wow, they are so good at this” or “they are making such a difference in their world,” but I forget to tell them. Sometimes their beauty is so obvious I assume they must know! I’m so slow to encourage or exhort.

But that letter I received was an injection of hope to my foggy forecast. Days later, I’m pressing forward because of her words.

I’m going to make an effort to verbalize the splendor I see. Everyone needs a little encouragement – something to spur them toward love and good deeds. Let’s not hold back.

Hebrews 10:24-25

²⁴ And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, ²⁵ not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.