No, Sweetie, You Don't Want to Be Famous

Starstruck. That's what she was. When my now college freshman was ten years old, she followed a couple of teenage YouTubers like they were perfection itself.

I didn’t have any issues with the show. These sweet, smiley twins encouraged family values and fun with hairstyles — the kind of harmless entertainment I wish was still all the rage now that we’re in the era of The Summer I Turned Pretty.

But what I was cautious about was the adoration. My daughter thought those YouTubing sisters were awesome with a capital A. She danced to their music videos, mimicked their phrases, even attempted to replicate their vlogs on her iPod. She wanted to be like them.

Why?

I asked her once, and she said: they’re funny, they’re entertaining, they’re creative. Lots of people love them.

Yes, I said. But they’re still human. They’re no different from you or me — minus those millions of YouTube followers, maybe.

“Sweetheart,” I told her, “there’s a difference between being famous and being set apart.”

Fame is of the world. It’s temporary. It will one day shrivel and die — worthless.

But people who follow God above all else? They are set apart. Special, holy, cherished, eternal. And that’s sooooo much better than famous.

“You can be sure of this: The Lord set apart the godly for himself. The Lord will answer when I call to him.” (Psalm 4:3, NLT)

My daughter nodded. And then, as ten-year-olds do, she went back to watching her YouTubers.

But I’ve kept turning that conversation over in my mind for years — because honestly? It wasn't just for her. It was for me, too.

We live in an era when anybody can rise to homemade fame. YouTube, reality shows, podcasts, social media. We don’t even need special talent to make ourselves known anymore. And we have this deep, human ache to know and be known — to matter to someone beyond our own four walls.

That’s not a character flaw. It’s how God wired us. We were made for connection, for significance, for a name that means something.

The question is just whose name we’re building.

Even in Christian circles, it’s easy to get swept up in following the messenger more than the message — the pastor, the author, the speaker, the influencer. Many of them are excellent teachers with wisdom to share for God’s glory. But if we’re being honest with ourselves, sometimes the draw is the platform, not the truth.

There is only one person who is truly awesome with a capital A. We call Him Almighty Father.

So by all means, hop onto Instagram and watch a puppy video. I’ll be right there with you. But at the end of the day, what I want most is to be known as someone who loves Jesus.

And even if the only people who remember me for that are the ones living in my very own home — that’s still a legacy worth living for.