So I’m at this wedding reception and I go to get a drink, only to realize they’ve run out of beverages.
“Why do I always find myself in these situations?” I mutter under my breath. “Am I the only organized person on the face of the earth?”
I look around and see that no one is rushing to remedy the problem at hand, and decide it’s once again time to get involved.
I hate this! Part of me chides, Let it go, Mary. The world won’t end and no one will die if this party goes on without anything to drink.
Then I notice the bride sipping from the bottom of her wine glass. I look at the time and realize we have three hours left —to dance, socialize, and get thirsty. I can’t let this happen.
I suck it up and stride over to a man who appears to be a hospitality assistant. I gently point out the empty carafes at each table. He stares at me for several long seconds before asking, "Excuse me, who are you?"
I flit away, my face hot. For a moment I’m tempted to become part of the fresh floral arrangements and keep my mouth shut. But then, I wouldn’t get watered.
My reputation is again superseded by the needs of others, and I march with determination toward my son this time. He’s got connections here. And he's a humble man, never threatened by leadership initiative in anyone, let alone a woman.
I explain the problem, only to hear him say he’d rather not be bothered with it at the moment. This time I persevere; I am his mother.
A few minutes later I’m giving orders to the waitstaff. They scurry about without question as guests look on, including the hostess, wondering who I think I am. I don’t care. We’re thirsty.
Long story short, The Cana Times reported the bridegroom as serving the best wine in Galilee at his wedding. My name was never mentioned, nor did anyone ever thank me for saving the day and the wedding.
Do I care? Never! It was my son’s doings, anyway. He did tell me later that they needed me. That was enough.
(This story adapted from the Gospel of John, chapter two.)
What do you think? Do you have a "leadership personality" that sometimes gets mistaken for "controller"?
Do you think some people don't know where to draw the line between being "appropriately helpful" and "annoyingly controlling"? How have you handled this?
Do you think it's insecurity that causes people to interpret leadership as control?
I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments!