There are numerous posts and photos recently of Taylor Swift standing to encourage another artist at the Grammys. Words praising her generosity of encouragement, or doubting her sincerity are both easily found. It brought to mind a time when I sang a solo at family camp. As someone young, I was told I had a great “choir voice” but not a solo voice. I was always very timid about singing solos. That night there was this young mom with bright red hair standing in the center of the back of the room, clearly cheering me on. Later that evening she made time to encourage me and tell me she enjoyed my solo and song choice (Adonai by Avalon).

That was over twenty years ago. Just a few moments of her time and sincere words of encouragement still mean something to me. I don’t even recall her name, but I can see her face clearly. Could she have just been being nice, sure, but those words seemed sincere to me.

I wonder, how often do I withhold my encouragement because I’m afraid that person won’t care or it’s not important? How often do thoughts of praise run through my mind that I don’t speak? Did God give me a chance to show someone love, and fear kept me from following through?

That one act twenty years ago – is still a solid memory. It still makes me feel good. Did I withhold a memory like that from someone? If I had known it would make them feel good twenty years later, would I still withhold it if given the chance to say it again? I sure am quick to send out snarky remarks and what I think is funny observations. I’m lightening fast with the sarcasm and rarely have a filter.

Maybe I could encourage more. Maybe I could simply speak the encouraging thoughts I’m thinking instead of worrying if the person cares, or if someone else will judge me. Even if I think, perhaps they have a choir voice, but I see their effort and desire to do their best, maybe I could encourage anyway. I could funnel God’s love that I feel in that moment. I could make sure that person knows I see them. Whether that means nothing to them, or they still recall it fondly years later. That’s really up to God, isn’t it. I just need to say, “Here I am Lord, use me.”

By Vicki L. Pugliese