I used to want to be famous. Not like a pro athlete or traveling musician – though I did rock The Kinks, Pearl Jam, U2 and even a few Jimi Hendrix songs in a college cover band. I guess I just wanted to be known. I’ve never really given much thought to making millions of dollars and traveling the world. I simply wanted to be appreciated for doing something… anything… better than most.
“Fame” has sort of been my secret desire for as long as I can remember. My search took me through 4 different majors in college. It’s put me in eight different jobs in 12 years. I have always thought that if I never settled and kept pushing myself to try new things and become different people, something would eventually stick and I’d finally be recognized as something and someone extraordinary.
It’s been a long, frustrating road, but I have finally realized that I will never be the something and someone I’ve been searching for. I’ve given up on winning a Gold Pencil in advertising. I’ll never sell a million books. I’m not going to have 10,000 Twitter followers. And I’m not going to set the trends that change the way others go about chasing their own dreams. That’s a difficult thing for a self-obsessed wannabe “influencer” to say out loud or put down on paper: I will never be defined as the guy I have always wanted to be.
But here’s what I am learning: My definition of me is not what matters. More importantly, your definition of me doesn’t matter either. That seems to be a likely statement coming from a guy who has only won few local Addy Awards (silver), but it’s true. And what a relief! What I do and what I have done doesn’t define me.
Nothing I do or accomplish or experience in my lifetime can ever compare to my identity as a child of God. How much more famous could I possibly want to be? I may not have the awards and the attention that I’ve always sought from the world, but the Creator of the Universe knows and loves me, and at the end of the day – and at the end of my lifetime – that’s all the recognition I will ever need.
That said, I never wanted a big family. I never wanted to teach Sunday School. I never wanted to read Green Eggs and Ham to a little girl’s 1st grade class. And I don’t remember ever wanting to “dig for gold” in the backyard with an 8 year old. But that’s what I got.
I’ll never be the guy I’ve always wanted to be. Thank God.
Now, please click here and join the tens of others who have decided to follow me on Twitter.