Hope in Front of Me

by Danny Gokey

  I was mad and frustrated. I had done all the right things. I’d prayed all the right prayers. We’d gone to the doctors, followed their instructions, and were religious about any treatment plan or regimen they suggested. Still, Sophia died.

  I could tell I was losing my grip on life. The initial audition process was successful, and initially I was happy. But once the high went away, the pain crept back in. I don’t know if you’ve ever been there, but I was hurting so much inside I couldn’t even think straight. I could no longer see hope.

  I thought making it through the first audition meant God was working something out for me. But then I started doubting what I believed. I thought I was crazy for having hope. My emotions started poisoning my heart, and I could no longer see the beauty of where I was and the great things that were just ahead.

  The moment I started doubting my faith and hope and asking myself where the proof was, everything changed: Things got worse.

  I woke up one morning in September and felt something change. It was like I could sense a shift in the atmosphere in my room, and I knew it wasn’t good. I had been trying to stay positive up to this point and ignore the growing pain inside. That day when I woke up, my emotions had taken over, which is never good. Feelings are fickle, and they can take you down a bad road if you let them. Once I took my eyes off the good things that were happening to me, I literally felt like I was falling, and I couldn’t get back up. It was like the floor dropped out from under me and I couldn’t catch the walls. When the floor drops out from under you, no answer is good enough.

  I hated living. I felt I was stupid to believe that something good would be coming. Nothing good had happened in my past. I had already experienced the worst, so why should I believe? In the days that followed, I’d wake up in the morning and wish I could go back to sleep again. But when I was sleeping, I wanted to be awake because of the nightmares I was having. It was a horrible place to be.

  I tried to sleep a lot because sleep was my only escape, but I couldn’t sleep most nights. I was full of anxiety. My heart was beating really fast, and I didn’t have an appetite. It affected everything. It even affected my breathing.

  When you fall into that pit and don’t focus on the good, your life seems worse than it is. Even though my situation was not the worst in the world, and there are way worse situations than what I’ve been through, I was sucked into a despair that magnified my problems. I became so self-absorbed that I felt as though I had the worst life in the world. I didn’t put my situation into proper perspective. I blew it up so far beyond its proportions. I lived in a false reality, and it was the worst place to live. I hated every moment of it, and I despised living. I was consumed with how I felt, but in some ways it was self-inflicted because I couldn’t change my focus. I had unrealistic expectations to the point that I started making demands of God. I remember telling Him to send a real angel from heaven and a parting of the skies to show me that hope is real — or it’s just not real.

  When our hearts are poisoned, our outlooks on life are poisoned. I later realized the key to letting go meant being okay with not having the answer. I was falling only because I doubted what I did have. The deep depression came when I lost sight of hope. It felt as though I had no reason to live. I was angry at God, yet I knew down deep inside that He was the only one who had the answer and without Him there was no hope for me.

  My heart had been tainted. When I finally was able to rid myself of the bitterness, I started seeing American Idol as a beautiful opportunity. Suddenly everything seemed more beautiful to me.

  I never want to look back on my life and wish I had taken that chance or rolled the dice on an opportunity. I want to know I took every opportunity, every chance, and never let a moment slip by because I was held captive by fear, doubt, and uncertainty. It’s an exciting and risky way to live, for sure. It takes courage to live without regrets.

  One of the Best

  I had to go back to Kansas City on October 15, 2008, for my next audition. Instead of thousands of people, there were only about five hundred people this time. I would have to go through two more rounds of auditions that day in order to earn the right to audition before the judges. From the thousands of people who show up to the first audition, less than fifty in each city get to actually audition before the television judges (another little-known fact for those who watch the show).

  I walked into the room to my first audition around 2:00 p.m. Before me was a panel of producers, coaches, and show staff. It was very intimidating. I sang a Brian McKnight song, only to have them request I sing something else. Then it was finally my time to audition in front of the show judges. I had made it to the make-or-break audition.

  I walked into the audition room. My whole body was numb, and I was nervous. These are the people who will ultimately decide your fate — the people you want to affirm and approve you to move forward.

  For this audition, I sang “I Heard It Through the Grapevine.” To my surprise, they loved it. Randy even commented that I was one of the best they’d heard all day. Wow! What a compliment!

  When you have no hope, you’ll cling to anything, so to hear the reviews they gave me sparked me. I grabbed on to that hope.

  I made it to the next round: Hollywood. It was a surreal experience. I’m not even sure I was taking it all in, which was clearly evident in what happened next.

  I had watched the season before, and I always saw contestants walk out of the room in the wrong direction. I told myself that when I tried out, I would not be that guy. But after giving all the judges knuckle punches, I walked out of the room the wrong way. Yep, in spite of my best efforts, I became that guy. The judges said in unison, “Wrong way!” It was humiliating, but I was so shocked that I wasn’t even thinking straight. Yet I didn’t even care: I had hope.

  I still remember the feeling of walking out of the room with that yellow sheet of paper. It felt amazing. Ryan Seacrest and my family and friends were waiting, and the celebration began. It was a long road, but I had made it. I knew in that moment that Sophia was smiling down on me and was proud of me. I really wished she was there too.

  This Has to Work

  The show doesn’t cover your expenses until you make it to Hollywood. At this point, I had no job and no income. Yet I had to self-fund my way through the audition process and also pay for gas, groceries, and other expenses. Thankfully, we had a little savings, and some very generous people had given me money at Sophia’s funeral. It wasn’t an amount that would last forever, but I made it stretch. American Idol had to work, or I was going to have to make some drastic changes in my life.

  Once I finally made it to Hollywood, in addition to my expenses being covered, I received four hundred dollars per show for my wardrobe. For someone who usually shopped at Rue21, where everything is less than ten dollars, the wardrobe allowance seemed like an unbelievable amount of money for clothes — until I started shopping with my stylist. There isn’t much you can buy on Melrose Avenue for four hundred dollars. I was in shock when I saw single items of clothing selling for thousands of dollars. I asked my stylist if we could shop in a cheaper part of town, and he immediately shut down that idea. He said his reputation was on the line and I needed to look good for the show. I’m glad he knew what he was doing, or at least I thought he did.

  Though our stylists were supposed to guide us, we had to make the ultimate decisions. Looking back at the show footage, I can’t believe that my stylist allowed me to make some of the choices I did. I wish he had stopped me in some cases. At the time, I thought I was stylish, so I didn’t know I needed to be embarrassed. I describe my style now as geek chic, but the chic part definitely came later. On the show, it was mostly geek.

  Driven Inside

  If there is one thing that kept me from getting tangled in what others thought about me, it’s that I was an emotional mess most of the show. I worked through my emotions over time and became very in tune with who I was and who I was created to be. I knew I was not being mot
ivated or driven by the approval of others. Instead, there was something within me that was the source of my strength and resolve to continue to pursue my dream.

  You will likely need the same strength to keep pushing through the ups and downs as you pursue your deepest dreams. When your strength comes from within, you will be able to resist the temptation to live out of what others expect of you and live a legacy that will be remembered for many years to come.

  If we build our own kingdoms, we will fall when our kingdom falls. If we invest in people, then we will create a legacy that lives forever. I hope your desire to find purpose in your darkest moments drives you inside. There you will find what you need to endure and thrive as you move through life.

  My hope was never in American Idol. That is just a TV show. My goal has never been to achieve fame but rather to become someone who would be considered great — a man of character, conviction, and resolve. Yet the show did give me something to be excited about and hope for. This hope is the same hope you have for your own dreams, prayers, and goals.

  You dream dreams that one day will come true.

  You pray prayers that one day will be answered.

  You take action today that one day will result in achieving your goals.

  Keep pushing forward. The excitement that comes when good things start to unfold is worth it. This was the first time in my life when I felt that my dream of a music career was within reach. It is a refreshing feeling when you’re used to working two low-paying jobs and working six days a week with little chance or opportunity for significant change.

  Seeing all the chaos around me during the auditions initially made me regret coming, and I felt like I had sold myself out. But it was really because I felt insecure. I thought I might not have what the industry was looking for. I’m so glad I didn’t allow those thoughts and lies to consume me. Had I given up and gone home, I would have forfeited the biggest successes that were still ahead for me. Your story has already been written. It’s up to you to live out the plan and purpose that’s been given to you.

  I realize now I could’ve missed it all if I hadn’t dealt with my negative emotions. You have to ask yourself what you’re looking at, because what you’re looking at becomes you. Right now a lot of people are missing the good things right in front of them. They have sight but can’t really see because they’ve been poisoned like I was during my depression. When I let my depression take over, I didn’t even want to be on the show because I allowed my thoughts to poison my heart and thinking. In my mind, the show was a place where I was going to make a fool of myself. I thought God didn’t care and I was going to fail miserably.

  An opportunity through the lens of bitterness and anger doesn’t look like much of an opportunity. I could’ve missed my opportunity on the show if I wasn’t able to change my focus and detox my mind of all the negative thoughts.

  There is hope all around us all the time, but if we don’t have a pure heart and pure focus, we won’t see that hope. Focusing on bad things can ruin a perfectly good thing. I’ve learned this lesson: When you’ve prayed and it looks as if God is not doing anything, that’s usually when He’s working the most. Trust Him. He’s got you. When we turn our focus to negative things or feelings, we won’t be able to see good even when it comes our way. Good is all around you; make sure you don’t miss it.

  Chapter 12

  Impossibly Me

  You are strong enough to keep being you.

  When we are children, we easily react when we are hungry, thirsty, and tired. As we get older, we learn to ignore some of our needs and desires until we don’t even recognize them within us. It is at this point that we stop living our lives and begin living to the cadence set by those who have convinced us they know us better than ourselves. The tragedy is they may be right.

  When you get to Hollywood, there is no more joking. Every singer there is good. You don’t get that far on a show like American Idol and not have talent and skill. This is where the real competition begins.

  My nerves were running high, and I barely slept. I probably logged about two to three hours of sleep every night. It was tough, but I knew that everything was on the line.

  At first I thought the competition was with the other contestants on the show. Not true. What I quickly learned is that the real competition is with yourself. Each week you have to out-perform the week before. When you have a great week, you celebrate for a moment. But you quickly realize that you just raised the bar for yourself. If you can’t raise it again, you risk people getting bored with you and being unimpressed. That is a risk I knew existed but rarely allowed myself to focus on very long.

  Look Beyond What You See

  Even though I earned my spot in the Hollywood auditions in October, it wasn’t until January that the show actually began. During that time, two significant things happened. I accepted the fact that I had to let go of Sophia. It was hard, and it hurt so much. But as I mentioned before, I couldn’t move forward unless I let go of my pain. The second significant event was the formal establishment of Sophia’s Heart.

  I was starting to heal, but I had a long way to go. Because I was still hurting inside, I kept to myself when I got to Hollywood. I’m sure other contestants thought I was just posturing to throw them off their game. That wasn’t the case. If anything, I was fully aware of the talent in the room and felt nervous that I didn’t have the emotional resolve to press through.

  Most people saw the happy me. They never saw the pain. I was in a mourning process, and I had walls up. While I did my best to hide it, I’m sure the only one I was fooling was myself.

  What I wasn’t aware of at the time was that this was a divine moment for me. I was being positioned to move into a platform with greater influence. This moment in my life was a game changer. Yet I felt very insignificant and unsure of myself. Nevertheless, I had a sense that something bigger was taking place. I was there not just to sing but to win, and that is exactly what I intended to do.

  You learn a lot about yourself when you are around people who are nothing like you. I never realized just how insulated I was from the world. Just as my eyes were opened when I moved from private school to public school growing up, my eyes were again opened on the show to how entrenched I was in the culture of the church.

  Church is a culture. That’s not a bad thing in and of itself. It has its own language, customs, expectations, and assumptions. I love church, so please don’t think I am knocking the church in any way. But the gap is evident when you get around people who aren’t part of a church.

  It is surprising to me that when the word God is used, people quickly react in a very negative way. It’s okay to talk about anything else, but when you start talking about your faith, some people react very negatively and refuse to engage in the dialogue.

  Unintentionally, I probably came off as being self-righteous. I recognized just how judgmental I could be. I don’t mean that I looked down on people. On the contrary. I’ve never considered myself as perfect, nor did I expect anyone else to be. When I say judgmental, I mean having preconceived ideas about choices people make. I quickly learned that I never have the whole story until I hear the story from the person directly.

  The same is true for the homeless people I worked with through the church and whom we serve through Sophia’s Heart. It’s easy to look at a homeless person and think they could do better for themselves if they would just take responsibility for their lives and get a job. But I’ve learned it is rarely that simple. They have addictions, emotional pain, and a variety of other things that keep them from making good choices. They need help, just like we all do at times.

  A Lingering Sense of Failure

  Once I finally made the show, I was faced with the challenge of choosing a new song to perform each week. This is another area where my church background really came into play. I knew mostly church and gospel songs, so when I would get the list of songs to choose from, I felt as if I were already at a huge disadvantage. I had no idea which
song was the right one to choose, let alone how to select one that “fit” me. It felt like an impossible task.

  Part of the expectation on the show was singing and performing, but you also wanted to put your own spin on the song you chose to perform. I didn’t know the song to begin with. That meant I had to learn the song first and then find a way to make it my own. That’s fine if you are in a studio with plenty of time; that’s not fine if you have only a few days to learn, arrange, and perform.

  When it came time to go on the show, I was taken over by nerves. The pressure was overwhelming, and I was afraid I’d forget the words to the song I was supposed to perform that night. I’d recite the words to myself over and over again. Still, when Ryan Seacrest would welcome the TV audience back to the show and announce my name, my mind would go blank for a moment. Then, like a tape feeding through a machine, the words always came back to me.

  I never forgot the words on the show. I’m grateful for that. But there were times when the music would start, and I was still grasping for the first line or two of the song. Once I got the first word out, the rest just flowed.

  Everything was happening so fast. I couldn’t make sense of life or process all that was happening around me as part of my experience on the show. That fear never completely went away. When you are under that much pressure, you constantly wrestle with the high potential for failure. I lived with the nagging thought that someone might figure out just how much of an emotional mess I was at the time. I was grateful each week when I was given one more chance to be able to do it again the coming week.