Create a Wave Of Mattering

​Yesterday morning, I stopped at a local 7-Eleven to grab a cup of coffee before driving to Virginia Beach to lead a training about helping people know they matter.

The irony wasn't lost on me. Sometimes, before we ever stand in front of an audience to teach something, life decides to teach us first.

As I checked out, the young man behind the register smiled and said he hoped I was having a great day. Then, almost as an aside, he said he'd come in early that morning to make sure the store looked immaculate.

"I think it brightens people's day when they walk into a clean place," he said. "Not everyone comes from a place that's clean and nice. I want to give them something nice."

I just stood there for a moment. Empathy. Not the kind we often celebrate on stages or write books about.

Just quiet empathy.

A young man stocking shelves and wiping counters before sunrise because somewhere along the way he'd learned that environments affect people. That some people carry heavy things into a convenience store. That maybe, just maybe, a clean floor, organized shelves, and a warm greeting could be one small reminder that the world still contains kindness.

I told him where I was headed.

"I'm driving to Virginia Beach to teach people how to help others know they matter."

Then I smiled and said something I hope he will always remember.

"You will make more people feel like they matter today than I can ever dream of."

His face changed. He smiled. Not the smile someone gives after receiving a compliment. The smile someone gives when, if only for a moment, they believe what you just said.

I walked out to my car. I started the engine. Then I turned it back off. Some moments you just feel are not supposed to be rushed past. I sat there thinking about what had just happened before realizing I needed to go back inside.

I asked the young man if I could take a picture with him because I wanted to share his story with the audience I was about to meet.

It honestly felt like God had placed him in my path that morning—not to give me another illustration for a presentation, but to remind me that the message I was carrying was already alive in the world before I ever arrived.

He was the presentation before the presentation.

I opened my training with his story. As I spoke, I noticed a woman quietly wiping tears from her cheeks. It reminded me that there are people all around us who don't simply understand the idea of mattering. They feel it. Deeply.

For many people, maybe that's because somewhere in their own lives they've known what it's like not to.

As I was driving home in the endless Virginia Beach Friday afternoon traffic, I reflected on the day and another thought came to me. I have to believe someone, somewhere, helped that young man know he matters. Who wakes up before 6:00 a.m. to make a convenience store beautiful for strangers if they don't believe their own life carries beauty?

Who believes a clean store can become a gift unless someone once convinced them that they, themselves, are a gift?

Mattering doesn't usually appear out of nowhere. Someone plants it. Someone notices us. Someone encourages us. Someone believes in us long before we fully believe in ourselves. Then, one day, we begin passing it on.

That's what I challenged the audience to do yesterday. Create waves of mattering.

Not because you're a CEO.

Not because you're a teacher.

Not because you have thousands of followers.

But because you happen to cross paths with another human being.

We often imagine that changing lives requires a big platform. A microphone. A title. A position of influence. But yesterday morning reminded me that influence has very little to do with where you stand.

This young man didn't need a stage. He only needed a 7-Eleven. His mission field wasn't glamorous. It was coffee, clean floors, lottery tickets, and early morning customers. And yet he understood something profound.

Every person who walks through those doors deserves to feel like they matter.

Maybe that's our calling too. Not to wait until life gives us a bigger platform. But to make the place we're already standing feel a little more welcoming.

A little more hopeful.

A little more human.

Because here's what I witnessed yesterday.

One young man cared enough to clean a store. That inspired a conversation. The conversation inspired a photograph. The photograph inspired a presentation. The presentation moved a woman to tears.

And today, I'm writing about him.

That's how mattering spreads. Not in giant leaps. In waves. And every wave begins with one person deciding that another human being is worth caring for.

We all deserve to matter.

And perhaps the greatest privilege we have is helping someone else believe that they do.