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The document discusses the importance of building others up through encouraging words and actions. It provides several biblical passages about encouraging one another and not letting unwholesome talk come out of our mouths. It also highlights Barnabas as a key example of someone who encouraged and accepted others, including bringing Paul to the apostles and seeking out Saul to bring him to Antioch.
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Like Glue 2
- 2. The quality of your life is all about the quality of your relationships.
- 3. People are often obnoxious, disappointing, irritating, rude and hard to get along with.
- 4. People skills can be learned.
- 5. And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight. Philippians 1:9
- 7. How to abide in Christ • Meet God in the morning. • Commit to 100% obedience. • Meditate on God’s word through the day.
- 8. Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing. 1 Thessalonians 5:11 (NIV)
- 9. Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. Ephesians 4:29 (NIV)
- 10. What percent of our talk should NOT be helpful in building others up?
- 11. What percent of our talk should NOT be helpful in building others up?
- 12. What percent of our talk should NOT be helpful in building others up?
- 13. Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. Ephesians 4:29 (NIV)
- 14. But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called “Today,” so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness. Hebrews 3:13
- 15. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together,
- 16. as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching. Hebrews 10:24–25
- 17. When he came to Jerusalem, he tried to join the disciples, but they were all afraid of him, not believing that he really was a disciple.
- 18. But Barnabas took him and brought him to the apostles. He told them how Saul on his journey had seen the Lord and that the Lord had spoken to him,
- 19. and how in Damascus he had preached fearlessly in the name of Jesus. So Saul stayed with them and moved about freely in Jerusalem, speaking boldly in the name of the Lord. Acts 9:26–28 (NIV)
- 20. The Lord’s hand was with them, and a great number of people believed and turned to the Lord. News of this reached the church in Jerusalem, and they sent Barnabas to Antioch.
- 21. When he arrived and saw what the grace of God had done, he was glad and encouraged them all to remain true to the Lord with all their hearts. He was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and faith,
- 22. and a great number of people were brought to the Lord.Then Barnabas went toTarsus to look for Saul, and when he found him, he brought him to Antioch.
- 23. So for a whole year Barnabas and Saul met with the church and taught great numbers of people.The disciples were called Christians first at Antioch. Acts 11:21–26 (NIV)
- 24. Move toward others move away •Then Barnabas went to Tarsus to look for Saul, and when he found him, he brought him to Antioch. Acts 11:25
- 26. Lift up when others put down •Joseph, a Levite from Cyprus, whom the apostles called Barnabas (which means “son of encouragement”), Acts 4:36 (NIV)
- 28. Accept when others reject • But Barnabas took him and brought him to the apostles. He told them how Saul on his journey had seen the Lord and that the Lord had spoken to him, and how in Damascus he had preached fearlessly in the name of Jesus. So Saul stayed with them and moved about freely in Jerusalem, speaking boldly in the name of the Lord. Acts 9:27-28 (NIV2011)
- 29. Believe in when others don’t • Barnabas wanted to take John, also called Mark, with them, but Paul did not think it wise to take him, because he had deserted them in Pamphylia and had not continued with them in the work.They had such a sharp disagreement that they parted company. Barnabas took Mark and sailed for Cyprus, but Paul chose Silas and left, commended by the believers to the grace of the Lord. Acts 15:37–40 (NIV)
- 31. Risk when others play it safe. • When he came to Jerusalem, he tried to join the disciples, but they were all afraid of him, not believing that he really was a disciple. Acts 9:26 (NIV2011)
- 34. Encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching. Hebrews 10:24–25
- 35. I Surrender All Words by Judson W. Van DeVenter Music by Winfield S. Weeden Words and Music public domain 433
- 36. All to Jesus I surrender All to Him I freely give I will ever love and trust Him In His presence daily live
- 37. I surrender all I surrender all All to Thee, my blessed Savior I surrender all
- 38. All to Jesus I surrender Make me, Savior, wholly Thine Let me feel Thy Holy Spirit Truly know that Thou art mine
- 39. I surrender all I surrender all All to Thee, my blessed Savior I surrender all
- 40. All to Jesus I surrender Lord, I give myself to Thee Fill me with Thy love and power Let Thy blessing fall on me
- 41. I surrender all I surrender all All to Thee, my blessed Savior I surrender all
Editor's Notes
- Years ago an experiment was conducted to measure people’s capacity to endure pain. How long could a bare–footed person stand in a bucket of ice water? It was discovered that when there was someone else present offering encouragement and support, the person standing in the ice water could tolerate pain twice as long as when no one else was present. John C. Maxwell, Encouragement Changes Everything: Bless and Be Blessed (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2008).
- Years ago an experiment was conducted to measure people’s capacity to endure pain. How long could a bare–footed person stand in a bucket of ice water? It was discovered that when there was someone else present offering encouragement and support, the person standing in the ice water could tolerate pain twice as long as when no one else was present. John C. Maxwell, Encouragement Changes Everything: Bless and Be Blessed (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2008).
- Years ago I came across a piece about someone who fell into a pit and couldn’t get out—and how others treated that person: A subjective person came along and said, “I feel for you down there.” An objective person came along and said, “Well, it’s logical that someone would fall down there.” A Pharisee said, “Only bad people fall into pits.” A mathematician calculated how the individual fell into the pit. A news reporter wanted an exclusive story on the person in the pit. A fundamentalist said, “You deserve your pit.” A Calvinist said, “If you’d been saved, you’d never fallen in that pit.” An Armenian said, “You were saved and still fell in that pit.” A charismatic said, “Just confess that you’re not in that pit.” A realist came along and said; “Now that’s a pit.” A geologist told him to appreciate the rock strata in the pit. An IRS worker asked if he was paying taxes on this pit. The county inspector asked if he had a permit to dig the pit. A self–pitying person said, “You haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen my pit.” An optimist said, “Things could be worse.” A pessimist said, “Things will get worse.” Jesus, seeing the man, reached down and took him by the hand and lifted him out of the pit. John C. Maxwell, Encouragement Changes Everything: Bless and Be Blessed (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2008).
- Years ago I came across a piece about someone who fell into a pit and couldn’t get out—and how others treated that person: A subjective person came along and said, “I feel for you down there.” An objective person came along and said, “Well, it’s logical that someone would fall down there.” A Pharisee said, “Only bad people fall into pits.” A mathematician calculated how the individual fell into the pit. A news reporter wanted an exclusive story on the person in the pit. A fundamentalist said, “You deserve your pit.” A Calvinist said, “If you’d been saved, you’d never fallen in that pit.” An Armenian said, “You were saved and still fell in that pit.” A charismatic said, “Just confess that you’re not in that pit.” A realist came along and said; “Now that’s a pit.” A geologist told him to appreciate the rock strata in the pit. An IRS worker asked if he was paying taxes on this pit. The county inspector asked if he had a permit to dig the pit. A self–pitying person said, “You haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen my pit.” An optimist said, “Things could be worse.” A pessimist said, “Things will get worse.” Jesus, seeing the man, reached down and took him by the hand and lifted him out of the pit. John C. Maxwell, Encouragement Changes Everything: Bless and Be Blessed (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2008).
- A study was done by psychologist Henry H. Goddard on energy levels in children. He hooked children up to a device called an ergograph to see how they would respond to the words of others. He found that when tired children were given a word of praise or commendation, the ergograph showed they experienced an immediate surge in energy. But when the children were criticized or discouraged, the device showed their energy took a sudden nosedive. John C. Maxwell, Encouragement Changes Everything: Bless and Be Blessed (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2008).
- As a youngster I developed a thoroughly annoying and humiliating problem of stuttering. Any person afflicted with this puzzling menace can tell you that certain letters and sounds are especially hard to say. Two troublesome letters for me were L and P. My name is Larry and I attended Plymouth-Whitemarsh junior and senior high schools in Pennsylvania. In the ninth grade, I was elected president of our junior high student body. During an assembly of the seventh, eighth, and ninth grades—several hundred students—I was beckoned by the principal to join him on stage for the induction ceremony. Standing nervously in front of the squirming, bored crowd, I was told to repeat after the principal the words, “I, Larry Crabb of Plymouth-Whitemarsh Junior High School, do hereby promise…” That’s how the principal said it. My version was a bit different: “I, L-L-L-L-Larry Crabb of P-P-P-P-Plymouth-Whitemarsh Junior High School, do hereby p-p-p-promise…” The principal was sympathetically perplexed, my favorite English teacher wanted to cry, a few students laughed out loud, most were awkwardly amused, some felt bad for me—and I died a thousand deaths. I decided right then that public speaking was not for me. A short time later, our church celebrated the Lord’s supper in a Sunday morning worship service. It was customary in our congregation to encourage young men to enter into the privilege of worship by standing and praying aloud. That particular Sunday I sensed the pressure of the saints (not, I fear, the leading of the Spirit), and I responded by unsteadily leaving my chair, for the first time, with the intention of praying. Filled less with worship than with nervousness, I found my theology becoming confused to the point of heresy. I remember thanking the Father for hanging on the cross and praising Christ for triumphantly bringing the Spirit from the grave. Stuttering throughout, I finally thought of the word A men (perhaps the first evidence of the Spirit’s leading), said it, and sat down. I recall staring at the floor, too embarrassed to look around, and solemnly vowing never again to pray or speak aloud in front of a group. Two strikes were enough. When the service was over, I darted toward the door, not wishing to encounter an elder who might feel obliged to correct my twisted theology. But I was not quick enough. An older Christian man named Jim Dunbar intercepted me, put his arm on my shoulder, and cleared his throat to speak. I remember thinking to myself, “Here it comes. Oh well, just endure it and then get to the car.” I then listened to this godly gentleman speak words that I can repeat verbatim today, more than twenty years later. “Larry,” he said, “there’s one thing I want you to know. Whatever you do for the Lord, I’m behind you one thousand percent.” Then he walked away. Even as I write these words, my eyes fill with tears. I have yet to tell that story to an audience without at least mildly choking. Those words were life words. They had power. They reached deep into my being. My resolve never again to speak publicly weakened instantly. Since the day those words were spoken, God has led me into a ministry in which I regularly address and pray before crowds of all sizes. I do it without stuttering. I love it. Not only death, but also life lies in the power of the tongue. God intends that we be people who use words to encourage one another. A well-timed word has the power to urge a runner to finish the race, to rekindle hope when despair has set in, to spark a bit of warmth in an otherwise cold life, to trigger healthful self-evaluation in someone who doesn’t think much about his shortcomings, to renew confidence when problems have the upper hand. Larry Crabb and Dan Allender, Encouragement: The Key to Caring (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2010).
- As a youngster I developed a thoroughly annoying and humiliating problem of stuttering. Any person afflicted with this puzzling menace can tell you that certain letters and sounds are especially hard to say. Two troublesome letters for me were L and P. My name is Larry and I attended Plymouth-Whitemarsh junior and senior high schools in Pennsylvania. In the ninth grade, I was elected president of our junior high student body. During an assembly of the seventh, eighth, and ninth grades—several hundred students—I was beckoned by the principal to join him on stage for the induction ceremony. Standing nervously in front of the squirming, bored crowd, I was told to repeat after the principal the words, “I, Larry Crabb of Plymouth-Whitemarsh Junior High School, do hereby promise…” That’s how the principal said it. My version was a bit different: “I, L-L-L-L-Larry Crabb of P-P-P-P-Plymouth-Whitemarsh Junior High School, do hereby p-p-p-promise…” The principal was sympathetically perplexed, my favorite English teacher wanted to cry, a few students laughed out loud, most were awkwardly amused, some felt bad for me—and I died a thousand deaths. I decided right then that public speaking was not for me. A short time later, our church celebrated the Lord’s supper in a Sunday morning worship service. It was customary in our congregation to encourage young men to enter into the privilege of worship by standing and praying aloud. That particular Sunday I sensed the pressure of the saints (not, I fear, the leading of the Spirit), and I responded by unsteadily leaving my chair, for the first time, with the intention of praying. Filled less with worship than with nervousness, I found my theology becoming confused to the point of heresy. I remember thanking the Father for hanging on the cross and praising Christ for triumphantly bringing the Spirit from the grave. Stuttering throughout, I finally thought of the word A men (perhaps the first evidence of the Spirit’s leading), said it, and sat down. I recall staring at the floor, too embarrassed to look around, and solemnly vowing never again to pray or speak aloud in front of a group. Two strikes were enough. When the service was over, I darted toward the door, not wishing to encounter an elder who might feel obliged to correct my twisted theology. But I was not quick enough. An older Christian man named Jim Dunbar intercepted me, put his arm on my shoulder, and cleared his throat to speak. I remember thinking to myself, “Here it comes. Oh well, just endure it and then get to the car.” I then listened to this godly gentleman speak words that I can repeat verbatim today, more than twenty years later. “Larry,” he said, “there’s one thing I want you to know. Whatever you do for the Lord, I’m behind you one thousand percent.” Then he walked away. Even as I write these words, my eyes fill with tears. I have yet to tell that story to an audience without at least mildly choking. Those words were life words. They had power. They reached deep into my being. My resolve never again to speak publicly weakened instantly. Since the day those words were spoken, God has led me into a ministry in which I regularly address and pray before crowds of all sizes. I do it without stuttering. I love it. Not only death, but also life lies in the power of the tongue. God intends that we be people who use words to encourage one another. A well-timed word has the power to urge a runner to finish the race, to rekindle hope when despair has set in, to spark a bit of warmth in an otherwise cold life, to trigger healthful self-evaluation in someone who doesn’t think much about his shortcomings, to renew confidence when problems have the upper hand. Larry Crabb and Dan Allender, Encouragement: The Key to Caring (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2010).
- When Rick Hoyt was born in 1962, his parents possessed the typical excited expectations of first–time parents. But then they discovered that during Rick’s birth, his umbilical cord had been wrapped around his neck, cutting off the oxygen to his brain. Later, Rick was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. “When he was eight months old,” his father, Dick, remembers, “the doctors told us we should put him away—he’d be a vegetable all his life.” But Rick’s parents wouldn’t do that. They were determined to raise him like any other child. AN UPHILL BATTLE. Sometimes that was tough. Rick is a quadriplegic who cannot speak because he has limited control of his tongue. But Rick’s parents worked with him, encouraged him, and taught him everything they could, always including him in family activities. When Rick was ten, his life changed when engineers from Tufts University created a device that enabled him to communicate via computer. The first words he slowly and painstakingly punched out were, “Go Bruins.” That’s when the family, who had been following the NHL’s Boston Bruins in the playoffs, discovered Rick was a sports fan. One day in school when he was fifteen, Rick found out about a fundraising 5K race (3.1 miles) intended to help a young athlete who had been paralyzed in an accident. He told his father that he wanted to participate. Dick, a lieutenant colonel in the Air National Guard (now retired), was in his late thirties and out of shape. But he wanted to encourage his son, so he agreed to run and push his son in a modified wheelchair. When they crossed the finish line (second to last), Dick recalls, Rick flashed “the biggest smile you ever saw in your life.” After the race, Rick wrote out this simple message: “Dad, I felt like I wasn’t handicapped.” After that day, their lives would never be the same again. WORKING TOGETHER. What does a father do when his son, who has never been out of a wheelchair, says that he loves to race? He becomes his boy’s hands and feet. That’s the day “Team Hoyt” was born. Dick bought Rick a more sophisticated racing chair. Then the quadriplegic teenager and the out–of–shape dad began running together—and not just casually. Before long, they began training seriously, and in 1981, they ran in their first Boston Marathon together. After that they hadn’t missed a Boston Marathon in twenty years. After four years of running marathons, the two decided that they were ready for another challenge: triathlons, which combine swimming, cycling, and running. That was no small challenge, especially since Dick would have to learn how to swim! But he did. Dick explained, “Rick’s the one who has motivated me because if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be out there competing. What I’m doing is loaning Rick my arms and legs so he can be out there competing like everybody else.” Of all the triathlon races in the world, one is considered the toughest—the Ironman in Hawaii. The race consists of three back–to–back legs: a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike race, and a full marathon run of 26.2 miles. It’s an excruciating test of stamina for any individual. In 1989, Dick and Rick competed in the race together. For the swimming portion, Dick towed a small boat with Rick in it. Then he biked for the 112 miles with Rick in a seat on his bicycle’s handlebars. By the time they got to the running portion, Dick was exhausted. But Dick wasn’t going to let Rick down. All he had to do was think of the encouragement his son received when they competed. Rick’s words must have rung in his ears: “When I’m running, my disability seems to disappear. It is the only place where truly I feel as an equal. Due to all the positive feedback, I do not feel handicapped at all. Rather, I feel that I am the intelligent person that I am with no limits.” Lifting up his son was what made all the training and pain worthwhile. Dick loaded Rick into his running chair, and off they went to finish the Ironman. The two of them finished the race in a little over 13 hours and 43 minutes—a very strong time. Since then, Rick has earned his college degree, and he works at Boston University helping to design computer systems for people with disabilities. And of course, he still competes with his father, who is now over 65 years old. By competing, they encourage each other. As of March 2007, Team Hoyt has completed a total of 942 races. They’ve run 65 marathons and 216 triathlons, including six races at Ironman distances. And they will keep running. “There is nothing in the world that the both of us can’t conquer together,” says Dick. That is the power of encouragement. John C. Maxwell, Encouragement Changes Everything: Bless and Be Blessed (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2008).
- When Rick Hoyt was born in 1962, his parents possessed the typical excited expectations of first–time parents. But then they discovered that during Rick’s birth, his umbilical cord had been wrapped around his neck, cutting off the oxygen to his brain. Later, Rick was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. “When he was eight months old,” his father, Dick, remembers, “the doctors told us we should put him away—he’d be a vegetable all his life.” But Rick’s parents wouldn’t do that. They were determined to raise him like any other child. AN UPHILL BATTLE. Sometimes that was tough. Rick is a quadriplegic who cannot speak because he has limited control of his tongue. But Rick’s parents worked with him, encouraged him, and taught him everything they could, always including him in family activities. When Rick was ten, his life changed when engineers from Tufts University created a device that enabled him to communicate via computer. The first words he slowly and painstakingly punched out were, “Go Bruins.” That’s when the family, who had been following the NHL’s Boston Bruins in the playoffs, discovered Rick was a sports fan. One day in school when he was fifteen, Rick found out about a fundraising 5K race (3.1 miles) intended to help a young athlete who had been paralyzed in an accident. He told his father that he wanted to participate. Dick, a lieutenant colonel in the Air National Guard (now retired), was in his late thirties and out of shape. But he wanted to encourage his son, so he agreed to run and push his son in a modified wheelchair. When they crossed the finish line (second to last), Dick recalls, Rick flashed “the biggest smile you ever saw in your life.” After the race, Rick wrote out this simple message: “Dad, I felt like I wasn’t handicapped.” After that day, their lives would never be the same again. WORKING TOGETHER. What does a father do when his son, who has never been out of a wheelchair, says that he loves to race? He becomes his boy’s hands and feet. That’s the day “Team Hoyt” was born. Dick bought Rick a more sophisticated racing chair. Then the quadriplegic teenager and the out–of–shape dad began running together—and not just casually. Before long, they began training seriously, and in 1981, they ran in their first Boston Marathon together. After that they hadn’t missed a Boston Marathon in twenty years. After four years of running marathons, the two decided that they were ready for another challenge: triathlons, which combine swimming, cycling, and running. That was no small challenge, especially since Dick would have to learn how to swim! But he did. Dick explained, “Rick’s the one who has motivated me because if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be out there competing. What I’m doing is loaning Rick my arms and legs so he can be out there competing like everybody else.” Of all the triathlon races in the world, one is considered the toughest—the Ironman in Hawaii. The race consists of three back–to–back legs: a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike race, and a full marathon run of 26.2 miles. It’s an excruciating test of stamina for any individual. In 1989, Dick and Rick competed in the race together. For the swimming portion, Dick towed a small boat with Rick in it. Then he biked for the 112 miles with Rick in a seat on his bicycle’s handlebars. By the time they got to the running portion, Dick was exhausted. But Dick wasn’t going to let Rick down. All he had to do was think of the encouragement his son received when they competed. Rick’s words must have rung in his ears: “When I’m running, my disability seems to disappear. It is the only place where truly I feel as an equal. Due to all the positive feedback, I do not feel handicapped at all. Rather, I feel that I am the intelligent person that I am with no limits.” Lifting up his son was what made all the training and pain worthwhile. Dick loaded Rick into his running chair, and off they went to finish the Ironman. The two of them finished the race in a little over 13 hours and 43 minutes—a very strong time. Since then, Rick has earned his college degree, and he works at Boston University helping to design computer systems for people with disabilities. And of course, he still competes with his father, who is now over 65 years old. By competing, they encourage each other. As of March 2007, Team Hoyt has completed a total of 942 races. They’ve run 65 marathons and 216 triathlons, including six races at Ironman distances. And they will keep running. “There is nothing in the world that the both of us can’t conquer together,” says Dick. That is the power of encouragement. John C. Maxwell, Encouragement Changes Everything: Bless and Be Blessed (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2008).