Change the Room, and the Room Will Change You

There are moments in life when a single thought, small and fleeting, nearly ignored, quietly alters everything. It does not come with fireworks or fanfare. It does not insist on being noticed. It simply taps you on the shoulder and whispers, What if?

Several years ago, one of those moments found me on an ordinary Sunday morning in Oklahoma.

That night, Steven Curtis Chapman was scheduled to perform at the local community center in the town where I live. It was a big deal. People had been talking about it for weeks. Tickets were sold out. Anticipation was high.

But that morning, as I drove toward church, my mind was not on the concert. It was on my dad.

My dad had been a fan of Steven Curtis Chapman for as long as I could remember. His music had been the soundtrack to countless car rides, Sunday afternoons, and quiet moments of reflection. At the time, my dad pastored a small Baptist church. He was faithful, steady, and humble in carrying out his role there. The kind of ministry that does not make headlines, but makes a difference.

And as I drove, a thought landed in my mind with surprising clarity.

What if Steven Curtis Chapman came to our church this morning?

Not for a concert. Not for publicity. Just to sit on the stage, surprise my dad, and play a few acoustic songs to open the worship service.

It was absurd. It was unrealistic. It was the kind of idea most people laugh at internally and then immediately talk themselves out of.

But I have learned something about ideas like that.

They do not come to reasonable people.

They come to people willing to ask uncomfortable questions.

The Wiring of a Big Idea Person

You should know this about me. I am a big idea guy. I have always been that way. I love dreaming beyond the edges of what feels possible. I love chasing ideas that feel just risky enough to expose me if they fail.

And if I am honest, many of the most meaningful moments of my life did not happen because I had the best plan or the strongest connections. They happened because I was willing to ask a question when everyone else stayed silent.

The irony is this. Most people do not fail because they ask too much. They fail because they ask too little.

We live in a culture deeply afraid of rejection. Afraid of awkwardness. Afraid of looking foolish. Afraid of being misunderstood. Afraid of hearing the word no.

So we rehearse conversations that never happen. We imagine outcomes that never occur. We protect ourselves from embarrassment, and in the process, we protect ourselves from joy.

That Sunday morning, I felt the familiar tension. The idea was big. The odds were long. And the internal voice of reason was loud.

But there was another voice too, quieter, steadier.

What if this is not about you? What if this is about changing the room for someone else?

Turning the Car Around

Instead of pulling into the church parking lot, I dropped my wife and kids off at the front door. “I will be back,” I said, without fully knowing how or when.

Then I turned the car around.

I drove back to the community center where Steven Curtis Chapman would be performing that night. I parked and walked toward the back of the venue, where the loading dock and tour buses were.

I introduced myself to security and the dock manager and asked, politely but confidently, if there was any chance I could speak with Steven’s management team.

They looked at me for a moment and said, “Hang on.”

That phrase, hang on, is where so many stories either begin or end.

Most people hear it and retreat internally. They decide they have pushed far enough. They assume inconvenience. They anticipate rejection before it arrives.

But changing a room often starts with refusing to retreat.

A few minutes later, I was escorted to the area where the managers were set up for the concert.

My heart was pounding. My palms were sweaty. I had no script, just conviction.

I introduced myself.

“Hi, my name is Caleb Gordon,” I said. “I am a big idea guy, and I love finding ways to encourage and bless people.”

Then I told the story. My dad. His church. His love for Steven’s music. The idea, raw, simple, honest.

Could Steven come surprise him? Could he play a few songs? Could we create a moment?

The Power of Asking Without Expectation

The manager smiled, a big, genuine smile.

“Man,” he said, “I love where your head is at.”

In that moment, hope surged.

Then he added, “Steven is asleep right now, resting for tonight’s show.”

I felt the letdown, but not regret.

Because here is something I have learned the hard way. Asking without expectation is freeing.

When you ask expecting nothing, rejection does not crush you. When you ask to bless someone else, outcomes do not define you.

I had already won. I had tried.

Then the manager said something I was not prepared for.

“But what if I do you one better?”

He offered us tickets to the concert that night.

“How many do you need?” he asked.

I hesitated, then leaned into the same courage that brought me there.

“Well, I would love for my whole family to come. Would that be too much to ask?”

He laughed. “Not at all.”

A few minutes later, I was holding nine front-row tickets.

I hugged the manager. He hugged me back.

“Man,” he said, “it has been a blessing meeting someone as excited as you are.”

That sentence stuck with me.

Not, “It has been a pleasure helping you.”Not, “Glad we could make this work. But, “It has been a blessing meeting you.”

That is when it began to click.

When You Change the Room for Someone Else

I drove back to church and found my dad.

I told him what happened.

He stared at me.

“You did what?” he said.

His hands were shaking. His voice cracked. He could not believe it.

That night, our entire family sat front row, not just for Steven Curtis Chapman, but also for Third Day.

I watched my dad sing every word. I watched him lift his hands in gratitude. I watched joy, pure and unfiltered joy, wash over him.

It remains one of the most meaningful moments of my life.

And here is the truth that took time to fully understand.

That moment did not start with me trying to change my room.

It started with me trying to change his.

The Change the Room Framework

That is the heartbeat behind what I call Change the Room.

At its core, the framework is simple.

When you intentionally step into a space asking how you can elevate, encourage, and serve others, the environment shifts, and so do you.

Most people enter rooms asking subconscious questions.

Do I belong here? What can I get from this? How do I look? How can this help me?

Changing the room requires different questions.

Who needs encouragement here? What does this space need from me? How can I add value before I take space?

This is not about personality. It is not about charisma. It is not about being the loudest or most confident person in the room.

It is about posture.

Why Changing the Room Changes You

Here is the paradox. When you stop entering rooms focused on yourself, you actually become more fully yourself.

When you lift others, your own perspective lifts. When you create joy, joy finds you. When you serve without agenda, fulfillment follows.

That is why Zig Ziglar famously said,“You can have everything in life you want, if you will just help enough other people get what they want.”

That statement is often misunderstood as transactional. It is not.

It is transformational.

Scripture echoes the same truth. “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”

That is not poetic language. It is practical wisdom. Found in Acts. Acts 20:35 to be exact.

Giving reshapes the giver.

What It Looks Like in Everyday Life

Changing the room does not always look dramatic.

Sometimes it looks like being fully present in a conversation when distraction would be easier. Sometimes it looks like encouraging a coworker when competition would be more natural. Sometimes it looks like choosing patience at home when frustration feels justified. Sometimes it looks like speaking hope into a moment where cynicism would get laughs.

Rooms are not just physical spaces.

They are emotional environments. Relational climates. Spiritual atmospheres.

Everywhere you go, you bring something with you.

The question is, what are you bringing?

The Ripple Effect of One Bold Decision

That Sunday morning taught me something I have carried ever since.

You never know how far one courageous, outward-focused decision will travel.

That moment did not just bless my dad. It shaped how I approach leadership. How I enter conversations. How I see opportunities.

Because when you stop asking, What if this goes wrong? and start asking, What if this blesses someone? the room changes.

And so do you.

A Final Challenge

So here is the invitation, simple but demanding.

Walk into rooms differently.

Into your home. Into your workplace. Into meetings. Into relationships.

Do not ask, What can I get from this room? Ask, What can I bring to it?

Because when you intentionally change the room for others, the room will, almost without fail, change for you as well.

And sometimes, it will change everything.