My Biggest Fan

When I was a young teen, I dreamed of becoming a famous writer when I grew up ... a mystery writer to be precise. I spent hours and hours and hours reading various series of books that chronicled the adventures of young sleuths such as Robin Kane, Meg and the Hardy Boys. More often than not, I could be found reading long beyond the time I had been instructed to go to bed, tucked in the little cubby between my bed and the wall with a flashlight to illuminate the words of the stories I loved so much. While I loved all of the mysteries and related to so many of the characters, far and away my favorite was the one and only Nancy Drew. Back then, I dreamed of becoming a famous writer like Carolyn Keene ... and then when I was in college, I learned that Carolyn Keene wasn't even a real person, but rather a group of writers who shared in the authorship of the Nancy Drew series. I was bummed when I found out ... of course I was ... all those years I had dreamed of becoming a famous writer like ... well ... like a writer who didn't even really exist.

All those years ago when I dreamed of being a famous writer one day, or being part of a famous band like The Partridge Family (don't even think about dissing The Partridge Family), I never thought about the down side of fame ... I just wanted to write books and have lots of people read them or sing songs and have lots of people listen to them. I never thought about the down side of fame because I was too young to even begin to comprehend all of the negative ramifications that come with being a public figure. It wasn't until I was an adult traveling around speaking for various groups that I began to get a glimpse of what it would be like to be famous ... not that I ever was famous, not by any means ... but I did become fairly well-known on the Christian speaking circuit. I learned the hard way not to give out my email address to just anyone and that listing my phone number on my website wasn't a smart idea. Getting 500 emails from someone in one day or receiving a phone call in the middle of the night every night for several weeks was not a lot of fun ... I came to understand that there is a huge difference between being a normal fan and being an insane person.

Don't get me wrong, there are some really awesome things that go along with being famous (or having a brush with fame like I did) ... things like receiving some incredible notes from people telling me how touched they were from my messages when I spoke, getting a free piece of pie in a diner in a small town in southern Kansas because the owner's wife recognized me from a previous speaking engagement, getting to go first in line for food or scoring the best hotel room in town. I've had fans send me some pretty amazing gifts down through the years ... gifts that make me think of the giver each time I see them. I've had fans message me to tell me they were praying for me ... prayers that seemed to always come at a time when I needed them most. I've had fans invite me to attend their children's weddings, and sometimes even their own weddings as well ... invitations that always meant so very much to me.

I've been thinking a lot about the whole being famous thing and about being someone's fan because of a comment I received on my last blog post ... the post in which I talked about being in a funk last week and how much I was dreading the upcoming weekend. It's funny how much one comment can mean to me sometimes ... how much one comment can alter my perspective and change the way I view the world around me, sometimes in a good way and sometimes not so much. The comment on Friday's post was a simple one, simple but packed with so very much power ... enough power to make me know and acknowledge once again that there are some things in life that matter and some that don't.

"When you're in a funk, you should Skype with your biggest fan. Love you Ghee."

I can't even begin to tell you how those words made me feel when I read them ... words written by my sweet daughter-in-law on behalf of my precious little granddaughter. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I read those awesome words over and over again ... "your biggest fan ... love you Ghee." And in that moment I knew ... I don't care about being a famous writer or a famous speaker anymore, and the only fans I care about having are my children and C.J.

So, Boo, if your mommie is reading this tonight, I hope she'll read this part to you tomorrow ... and the next day ... and the day after that ... and the day after that ... and every day until you're old enough to read it yourself. I'm so glad that you love me, baby girl ... I worried a lot about that before you were born, you know ... whether you would love me or not. I'm so thankful that your mom and dad make time for us to Skype every week and that when you are old enough, they will let you call me and Skype with me as much as you want to. Your mom says you're my biggest fan, C.J., and I want to tell you a secret ... I'm your biggest fan, too. I love you so much, little one ... so, so much. Oh, and one more thing ... I love that your name for me is Ghee ... hearing you say my name and seeing your smiling face every week is medicine for my soul, baby ... sweet medicine for my soul indeed.