The Emmys
This past weekend my husband won an Emmy at the Mid-America Emmys. Wait; wait; to be completely honest, he didn’t win an Emmy. He won TWO Emmys. Two!
We had entertainment, dinner, and wine. The room was full of beautiful people (like really beautiful people. They were all on TV), there was a palpable air of competition, and we were at a table with real friends, cheering each other on. The station did great, winning several. And then! To top it all off, my husband took home two pretty gold statues. It was a great night.
One of the awards was for Best Morning Show and the other was for a story he told about the 50th anniversary of a bank robbery. He gets to tell lots of stories in his job.
He has told stories that have enriched lives, saved lives, and changed lives. He’s told stories that make people think, make them cry, and make them laugh. And he does it all with love in his heart, a genuine desire to tell the truth, and enjoyment of his profession.
Not everyone gets to claim that.
He got his first on air job at 19. And he’s been working it ever since. He’s switched from Sports to News, covering High School football playoffs to Natural Disasters. I still remember packing him a bag of food and telling him he needed to take his pillow to the station too during Hurricane Ike. He kissed me and said he’d call me when he knew when he’d be able to come home.
He’s covered murders and kidnappings, the births of princes and the deaths of politicians. When Justice Scalia died, he kissed me and left for three days to West Texas saying that we’d make up for Valentine’s Day when he got back.
He’s reported on technological innovations and technological disasters; like the cruise ship that got stuck at sea with no power. Again, he kissed me, headed out of town, and said he’d let me know when he thought he’d be able to come home.
He’s covered stories that I was jealous of (like the hot air balloons…or maybe getting to drive a race car) and stories that terrified me (like the KKK meeting/riot, which he set out for after the 10 o’clock show). He’s worked weekends, evenings, day side (normal hours to everyone else), and mornings. And through it all he’s always sought to tell the truth.
After the ceremony, we headed up to our room, awards in tow, and shared the elevator with some other attendees. One of whom had also won an Emmy that night for a PBS affiliate. He was a lovely little man with no hair, glasses, a bow-tie, and a slight British accent. He told my husband ‘Congratulations’ and then said the purest words I’ve ever heard after winning an award, with a big smile on his face, “It’s nice to have validation isn’t it?”
Those words struck a chord in me.
They were honest and gentle and happy.
And they’re true.
It’s wonderful to have your work be seen and then have it be validated.
We all want it.
My children seek it when they run into a room, grab my hand, and tell me I have to come see what they just built. Or when they’ve finished the page they’ve been coloring. Or when they draw a stick figure. Or when they learn how to jump in the air and spin at the same time. “Mom, watch!” If you’re not a parent it’s pretty easy to then ask, “What am I watching for?” while thinking did they just do something special? (Here’s a tip: If you’re not sure what they just did say, “Nice! Can you do it again?” The repeated movement will give a clue as to what is supposed to be being watched. )
The want of that doesn’t go away as we grow up. If anything we crave it more because we have fewer opportunities to grab someone’s hand, pull them over, and wait for them to gush over our beautiful creation or new skill.
We know that as adults there are fewer chances for that kind of recognition. And that’s just a fact. Some may find that disheartening but I really do think it’s just part of being a grown up. Often, we’ve got to just put our head down and keep plowing.
But what if we threw each other a little sunshine every now and then?
What if we, without asking, gave validation to someone’s work? Whether that be a lifelong career, a part time job, a blurb for the church bulletin, or even a daily chore? Not a compliment of the person (although that’s good too), but a compliment of the job they’ve done.
Gilbert, I really love all the effort you put into your sermons every week. The research, the prayer, the thought behind it? It all shows.
Joanna, you are an amazing teacher. You pour yourself into every assignment for your students and they’ll remember it always. You inspire me to reach, and to reach far.
Dad, I see your work ethic. And I hope to emulate it. You go and go and go. And still smile when you see your grandkids that steal your downtime.
Daxten, your work ethic, too, astounds me. You’re 13. You’ve got a goal and you’re going to make it happen. I love you.
Lindsay, I love how you design homes. You have an eye for hints of beauty in a utilitarian space and are able to create places of peace and rest with interesting things to look at.
DeAnna, I’ve never seen someone with so many spinning plates in the air. You get everything done and you do it with grace.
Kaleigh, I see you. No one, except the Lord, will ever know everything you do. But trust that it is important and is loved. You keep your home running and full of safety. Dancler is one lucky husband and father.
Look up from your cubicle this week and give validation to someone in your life. Look away from the phone and see the effort that is being done around you. The cleaning, the arranging, the preparation, the WORK.
And tell them. Tell that person that you see their work, that it makes your life better, that it is a good example, that it’s just a job well done. And then tell them they make God smile.
Work, and life, are hard enough. But it can make even an hour easier knowing that you are seen. Let us be the bearers of that sunshine and remember that we are the emissaries for the One that is unseen. But always present, with arms open.
Remember that little man with the bow-tie and spread that happy truth. It IS nice to be validated.
*And my love, you have worked and worked and worked. You get up at crazy hours. You have to leave at surprising times. You work on projects that instead of taking an hour, they take 6. I am so proud of you.
