CFC Blog #214: The Power of Encouragement
I have a box tucked away in my closet underneath my hanging clothes that has held all hand-written cards/notes that people have written to me over the last ten years. It's probably the most important thing in my room... I think I re-read every slip of paper in that box at least three times a year. And I've noticed that I normally pull out these letters when I am feeling down or discouraged, or when it's been a long week and I've somehow lost my sense of self. But then I read the notes and it's funny to think that sometimes it seems others know me better than I know myself. And that the power of words is so strong and can make me feel so connected to the writer, even if I haven't seen (or maybe even spoken to) him/her in awhile. Yet his/her words have the ability to pull me back up again and see the world with a greater sense of peace and endearment.
And then after a prolonged period of silence, and maybe a few tears, I close the box with an awakened soul that feels such gratitude and love, knowing that I am very fortunate that the box is full and now is my heart.
Lauren - thank you for reminding me of the lasting effect words can have, and how encouragement may even be/feel contagious.
- Amanda
The Power of Encouragement
I have a story for you...
Last week, we released a piece Corey wrote about being in the "bardo,” or the term Buddhists use to describe being between two states. Our sense of time and what we consider the “future” has been fundamentally changed this year. How can I think about what my life will look like in a year from now when I don’t even really know what it could look like two weeks from now? From my personal experience sitting here at my desk on the Upper East Side in NYC - the former epicenter of COVID - it’s strange to start to feel like things are going back to normal here while cases are rapidly growing just about everywhere else in the US, but also sitting here in a period of waiting knowing that could be us soon. Governor Cuomo said this weekend a second wave is inevitable, “the only question is how hard this hits.” I’m very much in the bardo right now.
I don’t do well with uncertainty (most people don’t!) - and I know this is related to my desire for control. It’s hard to feel like you have much agency over your future when external factors can change your direction seemingly on a dime. More days than not during the last few months, I have felt like things were happening to me very passively - I didn’t have many decisions to make to shape my future.
Recently, I was seeking advice from a friend about another friend’s struggling relationship. His advice to me was golden - “love is not a feeling,” he said. “Feelings come and go. But to love another person is to make a choice to love, no matter what you are feeling or what is happening.”
It’s the kind of choice we can make every day. We can choose to love and encourage each other at a time where we all definitely know for sure any stranger among us could use a little extra of that.
The pastor of my church is a big fan of Dietrich Bonhoeffer - a German theologian who was imprisoned by the Nazi’s after refusing to pledge allegiance to Hitler. Yesterday at our service, he included a story about Bonhoeffer’s life that is an incredible testament to just how far a little encouragement can go.
Bonhoeffer wrote a great deal while in prison, including poetry to his then fiance, a woman named Maria. One poem entitled “Next Year, 1945” was particularly written to encourage her during a difficult time. Bonhoeffer is hung by the Nazis, and Maria publishes his poetry posthumously. Years later in America, an author named Joseph Bailey is experiencing his own personal tragedies, including the deaths of three of his children. He is given Bonhoeffer’s poem as a means of encouragement, and encourage him it does in a very profound way. He begins to write again, including a book on heaven, in which he includes some stanzas of the poem.
Twelve years later, Bailey receives a letter from a pastor in Boston. The pastor says that he is a hospital chaplain and had built a special relationship with an older woman dying from cancer. As her illness became terminal, he gave her Bailey’s book on heaven. The next day, she tells the chaplain that she read it overnight and it encouraged her and brought her the greatest sense of peace.
The woman’s name was Maria - Bonhoeffer’s once fiance. She passed soon after, reunited with Bonhoeffer’s message to her.
Words - encouragement, love, connection - have the power to carry further than we may ever truly know.