Tunnel Vision

Encouragement

/inˈkərijmənt,enˈkərijmənt/

noun

Definition of Encouragement:

1: the action of giving someone support, confidence, or hope

In 2001, I started in my first varsity basketball game. Up to that point, when it came to playing varsity, I was at best a swing player. That is, I would occasionally swing from junior varsity to varsity as needed. And there were exactly three occasions when I was needed: 1) we were losing by too much to win, 2) we were winning by too much to lose, or 3) the coach accidentally called out “21” instead of “12” (I’m a little dyslexic myself). Needless to say, I never felt needed less. But all that changed my junior year.  

Now, some may argue whether the move to varsity was because of talent or attrition, but I don’t see a need to get caught in the weeds on this. The important thing is that I made it. No longer was I an afterthought. Quite the contrary. After a year of practice, determination, and patience, I worked my way up to an actual thought. And I was ready show that I deserved to be that thought.  

I felt good going into the game. We were playing away, so we were on enemy territory. This didn’t bother me. Not even a little (remember, attrition probably wasn’t the only reason I made varsity). I was confident in the locker room, during warmups, and as my coach gave a few last words of instruction. I listened. I nodded. I knew exactly what I had to do from the first whistle to the last.

I looked toward our opponent’s bench as they finished a similar pep talk. Their cheerleaders then formed a cheer tunnel in front of their bench and started using their feet and pompoms to create a beat. We all waited for the first name of the starting lineup to be called. And that’s when it hit me. While I knew exactly what to do after the whistle blew, I had no idea what do to before it.  

I quickly tried to conger up any memory from any basketball game I had ever watched. Okay, you run through the cheer tunnel, right? Yeah, and then you shake someone’s hand. Is it the ref’s? Maybe. I think. And then what? Is it back to the bench or stay on the floor? Stay on the floor. Yeah, stay on the floor until all the starters are announced. Cheer tunnel. Ref’s hand. Stay on the floor. Okay, good. I started from the top to solidify my plan. You run through the cheer tunnel.

Wait.

Where’s our cheer tunnel?

Starters run through cheer tunnels. Why don’t we have cheerleaders?! I know we have cheerleaders, so why aren’t they here? I looked to where the tunnel should be. Empty space.  

“And for tonight’s starting lineup…” the announcer started.

I took a deep breath. It’s okay. No problem. I’ll just see what the first guy does and I’ll copy him.

“Starting at Forward. Number twenty-one. Jonathan Troll.”

Really?

My instincts betrayed me. I stood. As I began my jog toward the refs, I just couldn’t shake what I had already determined to be the essential elements needed to fulfill the sequence of events for any player in a starting lineup: Cheer tunnel. Ref’s hand. Stay on the floor. And given the fact that, technically, all those necessary elements were present, I stuck to the sequence.

I was about halfway through the opposing team’s cheer tunnel when I started to question my decision. But there was no turning back. Because that would just look ridiculous. With every step, though, the tunnel got longer and darker as the weight of my error grew. Pompoms started closing in like a garbage compacter as the rhythmic stomps of sneakered feet turned into what sounded like a ceremonial drumbeat. The temperature rose.

I felt my soul leave my body and rise as I traversed the unholy bowls of the cheer tunnel. I didn’t think it could get any worse until I saw it all from a bird’s eye view. Had Donte looked a little harder, he would’ve found a tenth circle of hell—one coated with glitter and lined with spirit fingers. Thankfully, the wooshing of pompoms drowned out most of the snickering and gnashing of teeth.

Days later, I exited the tunnel. My soul returned and I made my way to our side of the court where I waited for my teammates and their words of encouragement.  

“Idiot.”

Blunt. Concise. To the point.

“Nice going.”

Sarcasm. Nice touch.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Rhetorical questioning. A little annoying.

“You know you’re supposed to shake the ref’s hand, right?”

Good ol’ fashion salt in the wound. Alright, I think that’s everyone.

It wasn’t, but I digress.

It’s been said that a word of encouragement during a failure is worth more than an hour of praise after success. Starting at forward, number twenty-one, agrees. Words are powerful and how we use them is important (plus an hour of praise would just get weird). Proverbs 18:20-21 reads: “Words satisfy the mind as much as fruit does the stomach; good talk is as gratifying as a good harvest. Words kill, words give life; they’re either poison or fruit—you choose” (MSG). Pretty powerful (then again, the tongue isn’t just one muscle, but eight).

But sticks and stones, right? True. Words in and of themselves aren’t all too powerful. If an insult’s spoken in the forest and no one’s around to hear it, did it really cause offense? Probably not. It’s the words that land within earshot, whether negative or positive, that carry the weight. And with good reason.

In the field of psychology, the Cognitive Model looks something like this: Event → Thought → Emotion → Behavior. Words are powerful because they set the foundation upon which thoughts (and subsequently emotions and behaviors) are commonly formed. According to Andrew Newberg, M.D. and Mark Robert Waldman, words can literally change your brain. In their aptly titled book, Words Can Change Your Brain, Newberg and Waldman write, “Certain positive words…may actually have the power to alter the expression of genes throughout the brain and body, turning them on and off in ways that lower the amount of physical and emotional stress we normally experience throughout the day.” In other words, words literally give life.

Mother Teresa once said, "Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless.” Given what we know about the brain and how words have the power to change its structure, it’s tough to disagree. But easy doesn’t necessarily mean simple.

It’s interesting that in his first letter to the Thessalonians, Paul felt it necessary to remind his readers to continue encouraging one another. As if doing so wasn’t their natural first response. But I get it. Like my teammates, encouragement isn’t always my first response either. Sometimes I can get so focused on my own needs that my peripherals fade and I lose sight of the needs of those around me. It’s like an acute case of self-absorbed tunnel vision (another tunnel I try to avoid). But we must find the exit. We must step up and step out, never neglecting our responsibility to be the voice of encouragement to those God has entrusted to us. And we must do so like our life (or the lives of our loved ones) depends on it. Because while positive words may be easy to speak, only if spoken can their echoes truly be endless.

Hebrews 10:24-25

“And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, 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” (NIV).