Sometimes, being special sucks.

What Glee fan can forget the intense moment before Season 1 Sectionals when Mr. Schuester has to convince Finn to compete with New Directions right after he finds out that he’s not ACTUALLY the father of Quinn’s baby? Despite the slight inclination to yell at the dopey teenager for not realizing that he could not possibly have been the father, you can’t help but sympathize with him. He’s under continual pressure to be the coolest, nicest guy in school. He’s football captain, the head cheerleader’s boyfriend, and emerging star of the glee club. That’s a lot for a 16-year old to handle!

Sadly, Cory Monteith’s off-screen life was no easier than his character’s. The entire Western world was interested in who he was dating, where he was singing, and ultimately, the substances he was abusing. He was constantly in the public eye, and seemingly couldn’t do anything without the paparazzi picking up on it.

It’s the same old story. We hear it all the time, but yet we never change anything about it. Celebrity gossip magazines are still a billion-dollar industry, with no sign of changing. Now, with the advent of social media, Monteith’s tweets and goings-on can be monitored by any teenaged girl with a computer.

However, this post isn’t about criticizing contemporary society. There are enough social scientists, journalists, preachers and critical thinkers writing about that. What I’m concerned about as a follower of Christ is the turmoil Cory must have gone through in the last few years of his life.

Drugs are not something addicts choose to wake up and do every morning. They take over your relationships, your thoughts, your hopes, and your life. They bring you to rock bottom, with little hope of climbing back up again.

At my church in Ottawa, I have had the pleasure of getting to know former drug addicts whose lives have been turned around by the power of Jesus’ love. Instead of having their lives controlled by heroin, cocaine or alcohol, they are friends of God, and as such are blessed with divine love, joy, peace, and hope.

Unfortunately, not every addict has the opportunity to experience such love in his or her lifetime. This, to me, is heartbreaking. I genuinely hope that Cory Monteith had the opportunity to know God, and that as he died, he knew that he was special not because of his talent in acting and singing (though sadly not dancing!), but because he was created and known by the Lord of the universe. I also pray that he knew he was not alone when he died, even though none of his friends or colleagues or even stalkers were with him in that hotel room.

What makes you special? What gives your life worth? For me, it’s my relationship with God. Psalm 139: 1-6 reads:

1 O Lord, you have searched me and known me!

2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
    you discern my thoughts from afar.
3 You search out my path and my lying down
    and are acquainted with all my ways.
4 Even before a word is on my tongue,
    behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
5 You hem me in, behind and before,
    and lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
    it is high; I cannot attain it.

God knows each of us intimately, and wants us to take comfort in that. No matter what the societal, personal, and professional pressures that go on in our lives, we can always relax with our Heavenly Father. Isn’t that amazing?

Sometimes, being special sucks. This isn’t a post about the evils of the paparazzi, social media, or drugs. It’s a post expressing my heartbreak in knowing that a young man lost his life, maybe having never known God. I honestly will pray for Cory Monteith’s family and friends, and for all those who are still slaves to their addictions as an escape from real life.