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Who is the Most Important Person in This Room?

Michael McLean said something to me years ago that has reframed my life.

It has helped me hundreds of times, when I needed to come out of my personal comfort zone and do what needed to be done.  He said simply this: “Its never about YOU.”  Then he added the following, summarized in my own words, and edited over more than a decade of implementation, but the essential concept in this post came from Michael McLean.

Woman at the Well by Liz Lemon Swindle

His counsel:  Every time you walk into a room (or situation) you have a decision to make.  As you stand briefly in that threshold, before you actually walk through the door, you should ask yourself one question.  That question is “Who is the most important person in this room?” If the answer to that question is “ME!” then you are completely justified in all kinds of self centred thoughts like “I am uncomfortable here …. This is awkward for me … No one ever sits beside me … Why bother? … This is soooo out of my comfort zone …. I’d really rather not be here …. ” etc etc – because after all, you ARE the most important person in that room.  However, (and this is the clincher), IF the answer to your question today is . . . . . “that woman over there!” or “Laura!” or …. then suddenly, as soon as you’ve made that decision, your thoughts become all about her.  “I should go sit beside her – I should tell her how I LOVE her new hair – I should tell her how much I enjoyed her son’s talk last week – I should tell her how much I appreciated that comment she made the other day, and how much it helped me” etc etc.  Notice how all your previously self centred thoughts and feelings, turned 180 degrees to focus on someone else.  I really think we all want to BE nice.  We all want to BE the kind of person who makes other people feel good about themselves.  What that boils down to, is that we want to BE more Christlike.  More like Christ.  Well, if that is genuinely true, then think for a moment.  WHEN was it about Him?  When did He put himself first and say “nobody likes me”, “They’re not gonna like what I have to say” “I am so stinkin’ sick and tired” … Even when He hung on the cross, it still wasn’t about Him!  “Father forgive them.” and  “Woman, behold thy son” (John 19).  When?  When there are other people involved, when should it be all-about-me?

The fact is – sometimes it IS about me.  Sometimes I really have to say “this time – I just cannot do that“. And those times are okay.  But they should be rare exceptions, not the rule.  Most of the time, no matter how you’re feeling, when you’re in a place where you see someone who might need a kind word or wave, or even more – simply ask yourself – “WHO IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN THIS ROOM?”  I cannot tell you how much that has helped me be a better person and get over myself for the moment. Thank-you Michael.

The only time it backfires is when you raise your children with this philosophy, and then one day when you’re really struggling and feeling sorry for yourself, your daughter says “So why is this all about you mom? Who’s the most important person here anyway?” Stupid kid!

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

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What is Something Worth?

Many years ago, I lost my punch bowl in a move. . . .
I mentioned it to my sister and asked her to keep her eye open for one if she came across a good deal.   She phoned me one day to say “I found a punch bowl at a garage sale.   I picked it up for you if you still want one.   I paid five dollars for it.   The only problem is that its blue.”
I paid her for it and it really was quite lovely – even though it was ‘blue’.
Who would make a blue punch bowl anyway?   And why?   It makes your red punch look brown.
Still, we used it when we had company.   I would ask one of the kids to “go down and get the punch bowl“.   It started out with twelve cups but sadly, one got broken.   And the ladle is long since disappeared.   But life happens right? 

Some time later I happened to be browsing in an antique store and found the identical set.   Priced at almost $400 Cdn.  !!!   Whoah!   It is surprising how a little education can change one’s perspective.

When I thought it was worth five dollar I sent the kids to retrieve it, I let the kids wash it.  Suddenly I was saying “Don’t touch the punch bowl!  I will get it.”   In actual fact it was an INDIANA CARNIVAL GLASS Blue Harvest Grape Punch bowl set.   Popular when my grandmothers were setting up housekeeping, although neither of them had anything like it.

Even though it was the same punch bowl set, I became a little more invested in it.   A little more stressed out about ‘the kids bringing it up stairs’.   What if it dropped?   What if …. heaven forbid, another cup got broken?   Although I always take good care of things, I began to take especially good care of this punch bowl.   I began washing it personally and carefully.   I dried it personally and carefully.   . . . . .
What made the difference?   The punches I served in it still tasted the same, still a little strangely coloured because of the blue glass.   The same.   Outwardly nothing had changed.  The only thing that had changed was one little piece of information that I hadn’t been aware of before.   Information that had always been true – I just didn’t know about it.   A detail that involved somebody else’s perspective.  . . . .  IT had not changed.   I changed.   My understanding changed.   And that changed my behaviour.

It remains a good analogy to me of many things,  but mostly to contemplate what I might be worth, considering the high price my Saviour paid for me.   At some points in my life – I may have convinced myself I was only worth five dollars, and if that was true, then clearly I didn’t need nor deserve special care.   But the fact is, someone paid a very high price for me – whether I understood it or not.   Whether I even accepted it or not.   That price was so great that it caused Him “to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit”. (D&C 19:18)   His love for me was so great that He willingly took my name personally through the sacred temple of Gethsemane.   I imagine Him gently washing my wounds and drying my tears.   Personally.   And carefully.   Because my ‘worth’ to Him, is a very ‘Personal’ thing.

My punch bowl sits in an honoured place now.   In my kitchen.   Behind a glass door, where I see it often.   And it speaks to me.   Of mistaken identity.   Of inherent value.   Of Divine Nature.   Of the sacred worth of souls. . . . .
I imagine myself – a Blue Indiana Carnival Glass punch bowl set.   Sadly, one of my cups is broken, and my ladle is long since disappeared. . . .

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle