Encouraging Words Can Change A Life

Today’s reading: Hebrews 10:23-25

When I was in my 20’s, I stumbled into a behind-the-scenes, part-time job at a radio station. I had grown up being fascinated by radio, so this was a perfect job for me during my first year in college. (I especially loved listening late at night to stations beaming into Corpus Christi from all across the United States. I became an ice hockey fan by listening to St. Louis Blues games on the legendary KMOX and, after the games, I would scan the dial for the all-night trucker shows from all across the country.) It was a sort of confirmation of  a vague dream I’d long had that I would end up as an all-night radio DJ myself someday.

Because of my dream, I was not too surprised on the night I got my first shot as a DJ. It came at the end of a baseball game I was attending to on the station. The program director called me to say the weekend overnight guy had just called in sick, and I was about the only person on the staff who could replace him on short notice.

“This is your shot at the “big-time,” the boss said. “Are you interested?”

I was nervous, but, of course, I was interested.

“I think Tim is probably more drunk than he is sick. I’ve been wanting to fire him for several weeks. If you sound good tonight, I’ll let you do this every weekend if you want.”

As I say, I’d been dreaming of this moment for years, so I didn’t need much direction. I just took charge and had a great time on my own show — nervous as I was.

Two hours into the show, the boss called on the hotline.

“Well, I gotta tell you that you kinda suck. But I can work with you. You want the job? Midnight-6 Fridays and Saturdays.”

Those are the words that sparked a “career.”

I battled through the office politics at the station and eventually landed the  full-time overnighter gig. I dropped out of college and went on to several other stations across Texas before returning to a different station in my hometown as the quirky character “Hoss The Boss — King of Nighttime Radio.”

Ole’ Hoss became a well-known figure in town. I remember being excited during vacation trip to Austin when I found myself in a crowded bar’s restroom and not one person seemed to recognized me. I spent the rest of the evening laughing with my Austin friends about all the hands I’d shaken in Corpus Christi while standing at urinals.

Despite my success in radio, I suffered low self-esteem.

I always remembered those first words that my first boss said to me during my very first show: “I gotta tell you that you kinda suck.”

I let those words, along with all the other critiques I heard over the years, keep me from achieving my potential. (“You’re not as funny as you think you are.” “You don’t have natural pipes.” “You’re not very smooth in your delivery.” “You tend to talk too much in between songs.” )

I focused on those remarks and almost ignored all the supportive things that fans used to say and write to me. (“I like your style because it’s so natural sounding. I know you’re not fake.” “It’s great hearing honesty in your voice. You don’t get that from most DJs.” “I feel like you and I have been best friends for years even though I’ve never met you. I love hearing your stories about your life.” “I like the clever way you introduce songs. Your comments always stay with me when I hear the song again. They help me appreciate the music.”)

And, amongst my closest family and friends, I felt like I was a supreme loser. I never made much money as a DJ, so I was always struggling for cash.  I also felt as if everyone who knew me well wondered why I would choose a career amongst all the ne’r do wells” of radio when my original goals had been much loftier. (In high school, my out loud dream was to become an investigative reporter for the New York Times and/or to find a career in politics. Those jobs are a far cry from acting silly on the radio.) And, of course, I figured they all thought I sucked as a DJ too.

Then one day my mother told me something inspirational:

“Your cousins think that audition tape you sent to those stations in Houston is great. They’re pulling for you to get a job up there.”

“Really?” I exclaimed. I had trouble believing this.

My cousins lived near Houston, afterall, and they were very familiar with the local radio stations whose staffs were filled  with legendary  “major market,” DJs. I  knew they were big fans of guys like John Landers, Hudson and Harrigan, Moby and bunch of Houston’s other nationally known stars who were way out of my league.  I had had to build up a lot of nerve to just send my tape to Houston  stations, and it had been a huge step for me to share the tape with my cousins. When they listened to it without comment, I assumed the worst.

My mother’s report was third hand — my cousins told my aunt who then relayed the message to my mother — but it gave me confidence for a decade.

I no longer feared sending my tape to other big cities, and though I never ended up landing a major market gig, it wasn’t because I wasn’t “good enough.” I actually turned down several opportunities in San Antonio, Austin, and even Dallas — because the money being offered me was, more or less, an insult. I knew the high prices  that stations in big cities commanded for adverting, and I saw no reason why managers and owners shouldn’t share more of their fortunes with the DJs.

If I had never heard about my cousins’ compliment, I’m sure I would have taken one of those “insult” jobs, just to sooth my self esteem.

I got a lot of other mileage out of that compliment, too. It eventually helped me to burst forth from the radio business and to do many other things in life. Armed with the encouraging idea that I could be as good a DJ as all the legendary guys in Houston, I had no motivation to keep trying to prove myself in the business. So I was able to confidently quit.

I have absolutely no regrets that I didn’t keep trying to “improve” until I finally landed a high quality gig at a big, major market station. (Such is the sad fate of many other great-but-unsung DJs I know.)

I know that I was a great DJ (despite my critics’ opinions). And I know that I can be a great DJ again any time I want to return to the business. (In fact, I have a standing offer to return to the airwaves on one of our local Christian stations, and I may just do it one day. Though I’m also still working on several ideas to rebuild my Internet radio station into something very special.)

All of this comes to mind today as I ponder today’s reading.

“And let us consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching.” (Verses 24-25)

I am grateful for the compliment that my cousins gave me. It turned out to have changed my life.

But I also regret that the compliment came to me via my mother. I don’t know why my cousins were reluctant to say those things to me directly. But it would have been wonderful if they had.

Thanks be to God for the love and encouragement my friends send me often. May I remember to pay attention to those glorious words, and may I always be quick and eager to similarly encourage others.