How God Taught me to ‘Fail Forward’ at Being a Celebrity

Little did I know that a profound and yet simple moment in February 2018 between me and God, in my pajamas, in my home office, was Him preemptively guarding me for the wave of attention that was about to come.

One month prior in January 2018, I was speaking at a conference where I was privately introduced to a prominent Christian woman – author of dozens of books with speaking fees more expensive than my car. Except I had no idea who she was. We met in a hotel bar for chips, queso and wine, where we were interrupted by a stranger: “So sorry for interrupting, but I just wanted to share how your book changed my life.” Walking back to my hotel room, I googled her name and realized her Christian celebrity status.

That same weekend I met another Christian woman with a large platform who was involved with the event. We hit it off quickly. Easy to talk with – personable. But I was thrown off guard when, near the end of a conference session, an event admin came to whisk her (and me – due to proximity) away before the audience was dismissed. They were protecting her from being bombarded by requests for photos or book autographs.

I was witnessing firsthand, for the first time, what ‘celebrity’ was like.

And in truth, it was intriguing. To feel that important – to have such influence – was enticing and thrilling. If I was on a pursuit to make my life matter, a commitment I made when I was 14 years old after my brother passed away, this looked like mattering. I wondered if my new-found proximity to these women would lead to exciting opportunities for me. (Cuz ya’ll know I don’t shy from a stage!)

But almost as quickly as my new dreams formed, God reminded me of something He shared with me four months prior. It sobered me up real quick.

In September 2017, after years and years of feeling stagnant with God and in my faith, I started to hear from Him. Quick, clear, resonating thoughts that challenged my thinking and began to transform my character. And it was that September when God clearly told me to get out of my Christian bubble. God challenged me to do life with people that don’t share my faith – not some weird assignment to convert and change people – but to love better, deeper, more freely. (To hear about how that absolutely changed my life, read Chapter 7 of my book Signs of Hope).

So when I started rubbing shoulders with prominent Christian influencers four months later, finding myself in their inner circle, quickly I was reminded that my calling was not there. God knew my eagerness for influence, and so He preemptively clarified my call. He also knew it could become an icky trap of ego-stroking and finding validation in all the wrong places for me.

But God was not done.

Although I was personally invited by my new queso-loving acquaintance to attend her global conference in February 2018, I stayed home. Which brings us back to that morning when I logged into the live stream from my home office, sat in my pajamas with bedhead and warded off constant requests of little daughters while listening to phenomenal speakers on stage, pointing hundreds of thousands of women around the globe to the astounding love of Jesus.

And I cried. I cried sad tears. I cried jealous tears. I cried because I wanted it to be me. I wanted to participate in that work.

And then God of the freakin’ Universe, in His mystery and sovereignty and kindness, saw me alone in that moment, and gave me this:

“Amy, you are as important today as you ever will be – stage or no stage.”

With my messed up hair and coffee breath and confusing tears, God told me that I couldn’t be more important than I already was. I pulled out my journal and wrote, “Nothing to prove. No human validation. It’s counterfeit. God’s love is greater. I am important to Him today – and I can’t become more important.”

Then I cried even more. Because my God saw me, corrected my thinking, and whispered sweet affirmation.

But God wasn’t done.

Fast forward seven months to September 2018. I’m visiting family in Minnesota and join them for church. And boy oh boy, did I dislike the whole thing. Flashing lights. Fog machines. And a guest preacher screaming from his leather jacket. I. Was. Not. Impressed. But then God tapped me on the shoulder with correction. Are you teachable, Amy? So I leaned in just when the speaker confessed that over the course of his growing platform, he began to want influence more than God himself.

Boom.

There it was.

I whipped out my journal that night and wrote, “Oh God. You’ve brought me to this place of (small but meaningful) influence and it’s intoxicating. It makes me feel validated. It makes me feel important. It also is fruitful to the community around me BUT… I crave platform more than you. I crave praise more than you. People’s affirmation feels so good to my needy soul. I’m so sorry. You are worthy of all the glory. You alone validate me love I can not earn.”

God was still not done.

DAYS LATER, God sent these words through a friend (!!!).

“I saw an image of Jesus’ arm outstretched to you and you could see the blood running through his veins and it went out through his fingertips into your head and then out of your heart and it was a river flowing all directions (sounds a lot creepier than it looked!)… Jesus’ heartbeat is flowing into and out of you… God is proud of you. You are so strong to position yourself in this way…”

Okay. I’m listening, God. Holy smokes.

Then the testing came.

In May 2019, after running my nonprofit quietly in my home office for several years, it went viral. In 24 hours I had gotten so many media requests for a ‘press kit’, that I googled what a press kit was and threw one together on a new page of our website. A few weeks later, I was doing a phone interview with the Washington Post. Then Reader’s Digest. Then Women’s World Magazine. Then an email came with a subject line: From a literary agent. Then a book deal.  Then a gauntlet of interviews with dozens of podcasters and even a short bit on Good Morning America 3.

I remember sitting on my porch on book launch day, April 2021, with my family and friends, when one shared, “This is the start of something. Of something big. And we’re here to support you.”

I assumed ‘something big’ was a growing platform. A New York Times bestseller. Constant speaking requests. I felt maturely positioned for these new opportunities: God did the work in my heart, the guard against external validation, and now my time had come.

Imagine my surprise then, after all the interviews and publishing a book with a big publishing house, none of that happened. Book sales have been dismal. I delivered a TEDx talk in May 2022 on the biggest indoor TEDx platform in the history of TED talks - 7,000+ people. No spike in book sales. No new speaking inquiries. Notta.

And that’s precisely when I remembered another gift of prophetic words from a dear friend from in 2016. (Absolutely mind-blowing to look back and see all these moments God orchestrated.)

“I see you on a rope swing, hanging. Rope swings are supposed to catapult around, but you just hung. There were flowers all round. You will take chances, willingly, but they won’t always have the impact you expected. Don’t miss the beauty around even as you hang. Laugh at yourself.”

Hang on to that visual for a moment.

Within the last month I was at a conference around several influencers yet again. I watched as attendees lined up to get autographs and pictures and I’d be lying if I didn’t think that would be amazing if they lined up for me - if I had that much influence. It’s not all ego – it’s a deep desire to make my life count – to touch people – lots of people. What are the flippin’ odds that, while at this conference, I was reading Celebrities for Jesus – How Personas, Platforms, and Profits are Hurting the Church.  And suddenly the feelings of slight jealousy (for good and bad reasons – hello nuance) turned into feelings of gratitude – spared from being put on a pedestal based on a public persona. Katelyn Beaty in her book defines celebrity as ‘social power without proximity’. She writes,

“But if celebrity is social power without proximity, celebrity leaves many a famous person very alone – with few people who know them in deep, abiding ways, which is how all people want to be known. With few relationships that will stick even when the spotlight fades or the ministry fails. With few friends who will celebrate them not for what they do but for who they are, the unvarnished, unimpressive parts and all.

Celebrities are people. And God made all people to be loved and known – to find relationships that reflect God in Christ’s love for us. But celebrity power crowds out love. To be sure, it can certainly look and feel like love. When a group stands when you walk into the room, of course you’ll feel admired. When thousands of fans bombard your social media feeds with hearts and buy your newest book or album, you’ll feel good that so many people appreciate your work. When a conference attendee tells you that your message changed their life, before asking you to sign their copy of your book, you’ll feel like you’re really finally, making a kingdom difference… we’ll also examine why and how everyday Christians have placed the burden of celebrity on others, looking to famous Christian leaders to fulfill their spiritual and psychological needs.”

Whoa.

All this is stewing in my mind in the very days I’m watching celebrity culture play out in front of me, in the very years I’ve struggled with my own pursuit of impact and platform failures.

But God was not done.

One morning before the conference opening session, I was drinking a latte in the hotel lobby and I looked up to see the most crazy thing.

A painting of a girl on a swing.

A SWING.

Surrounded by… (drum roll…) flowers.

What in the ever-loving world. Okay, God.

Capturing all these moments in the journey leaves me stunned as I type this. First, that the God of All Things, of All Time, cares so deeply for us. I had forgotten about all the little gems of wisdom over the years where He was shielding my heart, refining my character, and purifying my intentions. How kind. How intentional.

Second, I’m challenged in my own glorifying of other humans. I cringe at the ways I tried to position myself closer to people of influence – getting the photo, trying to get in proximity. It has felt gross, for good reasons. I noticed that this month, that changed. In the presence of prominent people, I felt secure in my obscurity.

Third, I’ve been reminded that ‘social power without proximity’ is not the kind of influence I want. I don’t think it’s inherently or wholly bad (wouldn’t it be ironic if my platform grows in the next few years and I eat these words). But I’m reminded of my clear calling in 2017 to get in proximity with people different from me to experience ordinary moments of living life together. And even in the mundane, caption-unworthy moments, profound transformation occurs. In the private. In the quiet. In the uneventful. In the messy. And that’s good enough. Heck, it’s not just good enough - it’s wholly good.

Whatever is next, whatever lays ahead, it is crystal clear that God wants me to be free from ego, unchained from human validation, and valuing the significance of the seemingly insignificant.

And just when I think God’s given me enough - another nudge, another affirmation, another truth - I’m learning that in this journey of mattering and transformation …

God’s not done.