Never Made for Fame 1

And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places.

Roald Dahl

We live in a world where the line between the public place and the private place has been shifted. It wasn’t that long ago, that it was only by spending time in the vicinity of an actual person, that I could learn how they’d been spending their days. Today, we have been made privy to the daily lives of almost everyone we know.

We know when our colleague is on holidays, and where specifically they have checked in for lunch. We know when our pastor hits the gym or spends time with grandchildren. We watch people’s walks along the beach, dates with their husband, breakfast with their children and latest purchases. So much emphasis in our days is spent on not only sharing milestones, but the every day details of our lives. What we do, where we do it and who we do it with—all of it. 

The definition of fame is this: the state of being known or talked about by many people, especially on account of notable achievements.

It’s interesting to me that with social media today, we each have a level of fame. One of my favourite authors Ann Voskamp says though, “The frame of a soul was never made for fame. The frame of a soul was made to serve.”

There’s something to be said for the unseen spaces in our days. 

I think there are elements of the sacred, when we hold some things to ourselves rather than share them with the world—I believe it’s where the greatest secrets are.

There is a beauty that comes from appreciating the moments, rather than posting about them. 

Six months ago, I deleted my Instagram account, and I find that now, instead of seeing and capturing my life for the outside world, I have begun to really live within it.

There is an awareness of the Divine within the moments of my days, that I wouldn’t have seen, had I continued to be concerned with curating the polished version for thousands of people I didn’t know.

Instead of posting a photo of my morning coffee, I sit still with my hands wrapped around it. There are grooves around my favourite mug and my fingers find them. It’s hot, and the milk is silky and tan across the top. It’s quiet, and if I’ve taken that morning coffee back to bed, and opened my blinds, then I watch the earliest birds hop across the lawn and notice the buds on the magnolia standing to attention. I’m aware of my thoughts, and I offer up quiet prayers, concerned not with curating but with connection.  

There is a noticing that we’re only able to do when we’re no longer concerned with being noticed.

When was the last time you sat in a beautiful café, took a deep breath and just was there in the moment? No selfie, no snap of perfect coffee art. Just you and your thoughts.

When was the last time you made eye contact with the person who scanned your groceries and really saw them, without rushing to the next moment?

When was the last time you appreciated the beauty of a sunset, without seeing it through the screen of your phone?

There comes a depth to us, when we live our unseen lives faithfully. The frames of our souls can come alive, be aware, and feel God in our every day.

As I’ve laid down the desire to be seen and known by many, I realise that I am seen and known and loved deeply by the ones who count.