The Encouragers

Three times in the past week, persons have made it a point to go out of their way to compliment me on something I have done well. 

The first time was at work, when one of the doctors came out to my workstation and said, "I don't think I've ever told you this, but you do just a fantastic job up here. Just fantastic." To be honest with you, I almost cried. 

A few days later, a different doctor came on staff for the week and pulled me into a meeting, saying, "You're just who we need. Get in here." After we discussed the status of our patients for the day, someone started to write down the list we'd just formed, and I recalled it straight from memory. The doctor just looked at me and said, "And that's why we have you." The implication, of course, that I was doing something good. That I was exactly the asset he knew I would be. 

Then, on my day off, my neighbor was pulling into his driveway early in the morning while I was starting out to walk the dog, and he stopped and waited for me. As I got closer, he rolled his window down and said, "Hey, I just wanted to tell you that you did an amazing job on that fence." (A few weeks ago, I spent several days digging new fence posts and re-setting the fence between us, which had started to fall over pretty significantly due to age and weather.) I thanked him, and he repeated his compliment, so I thanked him again. 

The thing is...I haven't really gone out of my way in any of these areas. I'm just doing my thing, doing what I would do on any given day. This isn't "above and beyond;" it's "day-to-day." And so often in our day-to-day, it's easy for us to start to feel invisible. We show up. We do our job. We do the work. We clean up. We go home. We set the alarm, and we do it all again. And it's easy to just say...this is what we do. It's nothing special. 

But then, there are the encouragers. There are the folks who see you when you feel most invisible. When the things you're doing seem like just the things to do and nothing special. When you're just grinding out one more day, one more thing, one more task, one more duty. 

There's something special about someone who takes the time to step up and tell you they see you. Tell you they notice you. Tell you that you're doing a good job. 

It does something good to the heart. 

This week, I've been reminded to be an encourager. To notice folks. To take the time to step up and say something. To tell them they're doing a good job. To let them know that I see them, even in the moments when they probably feel most invisible. When they're just doing their thing. When they don't think anyone notices. 

This week, I've been reminded to be a noticer. 

It's important. 

(Just ask Barnabas.)