I got a chance to talk to Emma on the way back from Carowinds and she had just had the opportunity to hear and meet the group “MercyMe”. I asked her to tell us about it, so here it is in her words…
As the last few chords of “So Long Self” faded into the fair-food scented air, the rush began. MercyMe’s bassist, Nathan Cochran, had told the audience just a few songs earlier that by purchasing a pre-order copy of their newest CD, you got a ticket to a meet and greet with the band.
Sign me up!
Dad and I worked our way through the crowd of humanity and managed to buy two copies of the CD. Triumphantly holding our pre-order certificates in hand, we joined another mass of humanity in the long line to see the band.
By that point, it was just after ten o’clock at night. We had the Carowinds trip the next morning – at six o’clock. Hmm. Sleep, or MercyMe? Sleep, MercyMe?
I’ll take MercyMe for 500, Alex.
I had recently missed an opportunity to meet one of my favorite singers, so I wasn’t about to give up this chance without a fight. But I didn’t need to – my dad and two siblings (who had opted out of the concert, but had been enjoying the fair while Dad and I watched the show) were willing to wait so that I could have my brush with fame.
And they did wait. About forty-five minutes. At last, Dad and I were close enough to see MercyMe. They were sitting at a plain folding table, wielding Sharpies. A roadie took the opportunity to inform the crowd, “Feel free to take pictures, but the band-members will not pose with you.” I told Dad to just snap pictures as he could.
It’s silly how excited and nervous we get when we’re meeting someone famous. They’re just people, after all. But even so, my heart was in my throat as I shyly handed my certificate to Mike, who was first up along the table. He flashed me a grin and thanked me for coming, and I just managed to trip out some clumsily worded thanks of my own.
Then I moved right along to Jim, who I have a strange affinity with… mostly because he has glasses exactly like mine. He greeted me with a smile and shook my hand, then bent down to sign my certificate—
—Only to be interrupted by Mike, who was saying, “Picture! Picture! Everybody pose!” Obviously he had noticed my dad attempting to take pictures on my camera phone. So they all dropped what they were doing and grinned very brightly with me – despite the fact that the roadies had said they wouldn’t pose.
After Dad took the photo, I continued down the table with my little pre-order certificate for them to sign. Jim signed it and asked me if I was a junior deputy (I had a sticker from the police department); Bart grinned his characteristic huge grin, complete with dimples; Barry nodded very seriously at me and signed a heavily flourished “B”; and Nathan also thanked me for coming and scribbled a rather incomprehensible jumble of Sharpie ink on the bottom left corner.
By the time I reached the end of the table, where Robbie sat, I had a Classic Dimwit Moment. I pointed at the drummer’s head and said, “I like your Mohawk.” Robbie stared at me for a split second, with that Hmm, what a strange person look in his eyes. “Thanks,” he said, cracking a grin.
And then off I went into the crisp October air, clutching a square of paper that had been inked by six signatures. Well, that, plus an enormous smile.
So, all in all, I was quite impressed by MercyMe’s Christ-centered attitudes. All through the concert, they had kept the focus on God, not their own talents or glory. And in the meet-and-greet, they kindly and eagerly welcomed each and every fan, despite the fact that they were tired and had to get on a bus once we all left. They’ve handled fame well, and I’m more a fan than ever.