The 75 minutes I wanted to be famous

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Two weeks ago I had strep, and I was miserable. I managed to drive to the doctor, make it into the room, have my blood pressure and temperature taken, and then I waited. And waited. And waited.

For 75 minutes.

I can’t say I was in a normal, healthy brain state. In fact, I spent the time shaking, rolled into a ball, praying the PA would please stop entering everyone else’s door and for the love of all that’s good, enter my cold little room.

But she didn’t.

In my febrile state, I had a quick, but seemingly real fantasy about actually being famous. If I were, would I have to wait to see the doctor? Would I be curled up on a papered vinyl table, asking Jesus to please take me home?

No, if I were famous, none of this would happen.

Later, upon reflection, I saw something ugly in myself. I wanted to have preference. I wanted to be thought of first. I wanted “fame” so I could push ahead of the line.

Oh dear Jesus, I’m sorry.

I remembered Randy Alcorn’s sage advice years and years ago at Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference. Any fame that came his way was simply a vehicle to serve more, to humbly take the back seat, to promote others first.

Mind if I pray?

Lord, forgive me for wanting preferential treatment. Remind me next time to think of others first. Help me to be mindful of those who are overlooked, “unfamous” or invisible. Give me holy gumption to serve instead of wanting to be served. Give me humility like a gift-wrapped present of grace today. I love You, Jesus. Amen.

Q4u:

Have you ever wanted to be famous? When?