Paparazzi

This past weekend I had the opportunity to attend Women of Faith conference.  I was particularly excited to go this year because a few of my childhood heroes were scheduled to be there.  Amy Grant (you may remember from my earlier post that she was part of the soundtrack to my life) was scheduled to sing Saturday, and because she happened to have Friday off, she came early to hang out and watch the conference.

So there we were, me, Amy, and 10,000 of our closest friends listening to all the inspirational speakers and singers together. It was surreal - to think that we were in the same place, hearing and watching the same things. I found my thoughts drawn to Amy - wondering if she was paying attention or thinking about what her kids were doing at home. When Mandisa was singing, I couldn't help but wonder if Amy had been a childhood hero of hers as well - and what it might feel like to stand in front of Amy with a microphone in your hand, singing your heart out. I was watching to see if she was lifting her hands in praise when everyone else was, and if she thought Mandisa deserved that standing ovation at the end of her performance.

Needless to say, when they announced on the screen that Amy would be signing autographs Saturday morning at 8:20, I knew I had to be there.  I felt like I needed to tell her what a profound impact her music has had on my life. Maybe point out a couple of my favorite songs, or maybe just be in her presence and somehow take on some of her greatness. And in my starstruck mind, it seemed like I might be the first and only person to be telling her this... Or that somehow I would stand apart from the millions of other fans that she has met.

So Saturday morning, I hurried my friends along to be sure that we got to the Pepsi Center bright and early... Didn't want to miss the chance to see Amy! We were only a dozen people back from the front of the line to get into the building when the doors opened at 8. Once inside we immediately found out where Amy was going to be signing, and we ran to get there.  (Okay, to be honest, I ran to get there and my friends caught up to me...) I got to her line and just as it was my turn to enter the waiting area the volunteer staff stepped in front of me and said, "Sorry miss, we are under strict instructions from Amy's manager that she can only see 30 people, and you are number 31."

What? It had to be a cruel joke! I mean, this woman wrote my soundtrack! Of course she wants to meet me, right? It was like a blow to the heart, and I was immediately reduced to tears. Embarrassed by my reaction, I walked away, dodging my friends who had just caught up to me while I tried to get my emotion under control. (If anyone ever wonders why my 6 year old can still throw a crying temper tantrum, you probably need not look any further than his Mommy ;). We are an emotional people, my family!)

So I gathered myself together and waited in the hallway, across from the table where Amy would be signing autographs, camera poised and ready to shoot. If I couldn't meet her, at least I could take her picture to memorialize this.... This what? This missed connection? And as I stood there with my dear cousin (she was determined to see this through, fervently praying that somehow I might still get my chance to meet her), waiting for my moment, I started to get a little uncomfortable. And as Amy walked up to her space, people cheering, with the obligatory smile on her face, I became a little more uncomfortable.

There she was, "larger than life", 5 feet away from me. Only, she wasn't larger than life - she was just a person. Just a wife, just a mom, just a daughter, just a friend.  She was just a woman whom God had blessed with a beautiful talent that she had chosen to share with the world. And suddenly I felt guilty. I felt like I was spying on this woman, and I was embarrassed to be standing there snapping pictures of her life. And for just a moment, I had this vision of what it would be like to be in her boots... All these expectant faces staring at you, trying to steal a little piece of your time, gushing about how you had affected their lives, begging you to notice them. Having to worry about what angle people might be photographing you from, smiling at all times, trying to look sincere as people tell you that you wrote the soundtrack to their lives.

And suddenly, I just felt sad. I felt sad that I had built this woman, this child of God, up in my mind to be a superhero. And I felt sad because it felt like the end of an era. Every emotion that I shared with Amy throughout my childhood, the nostalgia that I felt seeing her and hearing her sing... It was all rushing away from me as I realized that she was only human.

And I was reminded that we are all only human, and WE are not worthy of such worship. Who among us can carry that kind of load - who can meet such great expectations?

Later when I read my "Jesus Calling" devotion for the day, it was so appropriately titled (as it often is)...

"Worship Me Only"

And the scripture for that day read:

"...God, the blessed and only Ruler, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone is immortal and who lives in unapproachable light, whom no one has seen or can see. To him be honor and might forever. Amen. - I Timothy 6:15-16"


Can I get an AMEN?