The Duty of
Encouragement
J. R. Miller
There are few things to which we need to train ourselves
more diligently and conscientiously than to the habit of giving cheer and
encouragement. To many people life is hard. It is full of struggles. It has
more of shadow than of sunshine. Its duties are stern and severe. Its
burdens press heavily. We know not how many of those whom we meet have been
overcome in the struggle of today or of yesterday, and are cast down or
almost in despair. We know not behind what smiling faces are sore hearts. We
see not the secret sorrows that weigh like mountains upon many a gentle
spirit. We do not understand with what difficulties the paths of many
pilgrim feet are beset. There is not a heart without its bitterness. Work is
hard. Burdens press heavily. Battles are fierce, and are often lost. Hopes
fade like summer roses, leaving disappointment and dead ashes. The constant
and invariable gravitation of human hearts is toward discouragement and
depression. An honest watching of our own inner experiences for a week will
verify all this, and our personal experience is but a reflection of what is
going on all about us. A few lives may be more sunny than ours, while in
most the shadows are deeper, the struggles hotter and the path steeper and
harder. While, then, there is so much that is disheartening, it becomes our
duty to watch for every opportunity to put a little bit of brightness or
better cheer into the lives of those we meet. It would seem to be clear that
we should never needlessly utter a discouraging word. The guides caution
travelers at certain points on the Alps not to speak even in a whisper, lest
the reverberations of their tones should start an avalanche from its perfect
poise and send it crashing down. There are hearts so poised on the edge of
despair that one dispiriting word will cast them down. It is, therefore,
disloyalty to humanity to speak a word whose influence tends to quench hope,
to cool life’s ardor or to cast a shadow over any sunny heart. And yet there
are many who do not remember this.
There are preachers who utter discouraging messages. If a
commander, leading his army in battle, were to issue woeful proclamations,
dwelling upon the difficulties and dangers of the hour, the power of the
enemy and the uncertainty of the issue, he would ensure the defeat of his
army and the failure of his cause. And yet there are men set to lead in the
army of Christ who ever dwell mournfully on the hardships and
discouragements of the conflict, with scarcely a brave, heroic, hopeful
word. Should it not be the office of all who occupy responsible places as
leaders, where their every word or tone has a mighty influence over other
lives, carefully and conscientiously to refrain from ever uttering one
sentence which would check the enthusiasm of any hopeful heart or add to the
fear and depression of one who is already downcast? There is enough in
life’s sorrows and trials to dishearten without this. Men and women need
incitement, encouragement, inspiration. Many a church is kept from
aggressive work and earnest progress by the discouraging utterances of a
timid leader. One of the essential qualifications of leadership is large
hopefulness. Then, in all life’s relations, there are many people who are
always saying disheartening things. Meet them when you may, speak to them on
whatever theme you choose, they will leave a depressing influence upon you.
They take gloomy views of everything. They are always dominated by
discouragements. They see the difficulties first of all in any enterprise or
scheme. They regard the present time as the worst for the undertaking of any
new work.
This is the most corrupt age the world has ever seen; men never were so
depraved; the Church never was so worldly, so shorn of power; there never
was so little true piety. Then touch upon their own personal affairs, and
they grow still more gloomy. They air all their griefs. They have a volume
of lamentations to pour into your ears. Ask their counsel in any matter of
your own or speak to them of any plan of yours, and they will shake their
heads and point out to you every unfavorable aspect of it. They seem to live
to discourage others, to quench hope, to repress ardor and enthusiasm, to
pour darkness into bright lives, and to spread demoralization and panic
wherever they move. The chilling influence of such lives it is impossible to
estimate. To meet them in the morning is to have a day of depression.
On the other hand, there are those who live to give cheer
and encouragement. They may have burdens, or even sore griefs, of their own,
but they hide them away deep in their own hearts, not carrying them so as to
cast their shadows on any other life. When you meet them, it is as when you
go out on a June morning under a cloudless sky, with dewy fragrance
breathing all around and bird songs filling the air. There is a loving
radiance in their countenances. Even if you do not know them personally, and
merely meet them without salutation on the street, there is something in
their expression that leaves a benediction on you whose holy influence
follows you all day like the memory of a lovely picture or the refrain of a
sweet song. If you have only a greeting as you hurry by, it is so cordial,
so hearty, so sincere, that its inspiration tingles all day in your veins.
When you talk with them, you do not hear one gloomy word. They take hopeful
views of everything. They always find some favorable light in which to view
every discouraging event or circumstance. No ardor is quenched, no hope is
dimmed, no enthusiasm is repressed in your heart, as you take counsel with
them. They seek to remove difficulties, to open paths, to inspire fresh
courage, to make you stronger, and to add to your determination to succeed.
You always go out from a few minutes talk with them with new impulses
stirring in your breast, with lighter step, brighter face, deeper joy, and
with the assurance of victory thrilling in your soul. The ministry of such
lives is a most blessed one.
What men need most in this world’s struggle and strife is
not usually direct help, but cheer. A child was seen at a high window in a
burning building. A brave fireman started up a ladder to try to rescue it.
He had almost gained the window, when the terrible heat appeared too much
for him. He seemed to stagger and was about to turn back, when some one in
the throng below cried, “Cheer him!” A loud cheer went up, and in a moment
more he had the imperiled child in his arm, snatched from an awful death.
Many men have fainted and succumbed in great struggles whom one word of
cheer would have made strong to overcome.
We should never, then, lose an opportunity to say an
inspiring word. We do not know how much it is needed or how great and
far-reaching its consequences may be. One night long ago, during a terrible
storm on the coast of England, a clergyman left his own cosy home, hurried
away to the headland and lighted the beacon. Months afterwards he learned
that that light had saved a great ship with its freight of human life. We
know not to what imperiled interests and hopes our one word or act of
encouragement may carry rescue and safety. Nor do we know what destinies may
be wrecked and lost by our failure to speak cheer. In the training and
education of the young there is a great call for encouragement. Parents are
too apt to criticize their children and find fault with them for the
imperfect manner in which they do their work. In too many homes the
prevalent temper is that of fault-finding and censure. Is it any wonder that
the children sometimes grow discouraged and feel that there is no use in
trying to do anything right? They never receive a word of commendation.
Nothing that they do is approved. The defects and mistakes in their work are
always pointed out, oftentimes impatiently, and no kindly notice is ever
taken of any improvement or progress made. Their little plans and ambitions
are laughed at. Their daydreams and childish fancies are ridiculed. No
interest is taken in their studies. They are not merely left to struggle
along without encouragement or appreciation, but every budding aspiration is
met by the chilling frost of criticism.
If we adults had to make headway in life against such
repressing influences as many children meet, we should soon faint by the way
and give up in despair. There is a better way. “A kiss from my mother,” said
Benjamin West, “made me a painter.” Had it not been for her approving love
and the cheer and encouragement which she gave to him when he showed her his
first rude effort, he would never have gone on. A frown, a rebuke, a cold,
indifferent criticism or a look or word of ridicule would have so
discouraged him that he would never have tried again. No doubt many a grand
destiny has been blighted in early youth by discouragement, by disapproval
or by a sneer; and, on the other hand, proper encouragement and appreciation
woo out the modest and shrinking powers of genius and start men on grand
careers. Wise parents and teachers understand this. They notice every
improvement, every mark of progress, and speak approvingly of it. They
commend whatever is well done. They never chide for faults or mistakes when
the child has done its best. They point out the defects in such a way as not
to give pain or to discourage, but rather to stimulate to new effort. They
never laugh at a child’s visions or fancies or ridicule its plans, but
regard them as the earliest germs of a beautiful life which they must try to
woo out. They do not ridicule a child’s answers or rebuke its questions.
They treat every manifestation of its young life as tenderly as the skillful
gardener treats his most delicate plants and flowers. They seek to make it
summer about the budding life, so as never to stunt any nascent growth, but
to warm and cheer and to call out every lovely possibility of strength and
beauty.
A naval officer who rose to high honor relates his first experience under
fire. The conflict was very fierce, and at the beginning his terror was very
great. He was almost utterly unmanned. The commander of the ship noticed his
terror, and, coming to him in the gentlest manner, stood beside him for a
few moments and told him of his experience when first called into danger. He
assured the young officer that he understood his feelings perfectly and
sympathized with him. He then encouraged him with the further assurance that
the feeling of dread would soon pass off and his courage would return. Had
the commander approached him with stern reproach and rebuke, he might have
become utterly panic-stricken. As it was, his words of sympathy made him
brave as a lion.
Thus I read the duty of giving encouragement. It is the sunshine most lives
need. Childhood, youth, struggling genius, fainting energy, wearied hope,
tempted virtue, breaking hearts,—all are waiting for sympathy and cheer.
Those who would do good must learn this secret—pastor, teacher, editor,
parent. Disheartening words anywhere are treasonable words. They cause fear,
anxiety, panic, loss of courage, rout, disaster. There are discouragements
enough in most lives already. Let us never add to life’s burdens, but let us
rather at every possible opportunity breathe cheer, fresh incitement, new
courage. He that lives thus, even in the lowliest walk, will make brightness
and song wherever he goes, and will have a choral entrance into joy at the
end.