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When I was a little girl, you couldn’t tell me that I wasn’t Michael Jackson’s girlfriend.  I just knew I’d know him and at the very least I knew I’d meet him.  I just had to.  I mean, you couldn’t love someone that much and never get to meet him right?  Hmph!  I’m sure I’m not unlike any other hopeful with posters strewn across the walls – with barely visible paint, every album he produced in my cache, crying while watching him on television, desperate to see him perform live, sitting out in front of his Encino home waiting with baited breath to see something – anything that resembled a shoe string or even a sibling.  That would have sufficed.  He consumed every part of me.  He is what I thought about when I woke up, went to bed.  I talked about him as if we were familiar with one another.  I defended him and maybe even lost a friend or two because of my stance.  This thing was pretty intense.  Every day I would come home, do my homework and commence to practicing video routines for hours as if I were awaiting a call to spontaneously perform with him.  Yeah, I had it bad.  For all intents and purposes, I worshipped Michael Jackson. 

Many years would go by and although my love for his creativity didn’t change, the obsession lessened.  There appeared more important things in life than memorize the kick-ball-chain move in his latest hit and I wasn’t as interested in his day-to-day goings on.   That minute detail would prove very instrumental for what was to come. 

1993 was my last year of college.  I was performing a great deal with a few of my sorority sisters and members of other fraternal organizations on a more professionally organized step team.  As we so routinely did, we practiced extremely hard for a variety of events, televised and local.  One day we got a call to meet the team at Sony Studios.  There was something deep within us that assumed it was to meet Michael Jackson.  We knew he was in town.  We knew he was at Sony.  We knew that he was preparing for a few things while here and we also knew that we were in training for something that we hadn’t yet been made privy.  When we drove up to the security gate, we were given wrist bands that read the name “Michael Jackson.”  Everything in me wanted to scream, but I contained myself for fear that they would prevent me from entering the facility.  It was true!  We had been chosen to perform with Michael Jackson in an upcoming video for the Addams Family II movie.  A dream had come true. 

The first day, we anxiously awaited Michael’s arrival for about six hours before the staff came in to tell us what we had been chosen to do and began fitting us for wardrobe.  We all minimized our deepest childhood yelp for a controlled smile and, “Thank you.”  We flipped through the clothing and I can remember cupping my hands over my mouth and screaming.  I had to get it out.   That day, we left without meeting the king of Pop.  It wasn’t until the next day that we would actually meet him and to subsequently begin a grueling schedule of practices in the heat of the day.  It was incredible.  I couldn’t believe this moment.  We had trailers, were being treated like celebrities with hair and makeup and dancing with THE Michael Jackson.  It couldn’t get more real. 

Well…God quickly put things into perspective.  This man, this human being, was simply that, a fallen man like all of us who was not above reproach.  He was one who had made some careless choices that be they true or not, led him into a sea of public scrutiny.  Michael Jackson was under investigation and everything that we had accomplished was on hold until further notice.  I couldn’t believe it.  He was being accused of pedophilia.  What?  Not my Michael Jackson.  Not the one whom I had come to love and mature in relationship with – in my mind.  Not this person. 

Needless to say, midstream our production came to a halt.  We were later instructed to get a passport to take the production to Asia but he was prevented from leaving the country.  It was over.  The dream, though short lived, was fulfilled.   I finally got a chance to meet my Michael, on the side of humanity. 

That experience put things in check for me. 

That same year, 1993, I cried out to the Lord for intimacy with him unlike that which I’d ever experienced.  Michael Jackson helped me realize the need for God like never before.  I saw how quickly it is that when things are placed before the Lord, idols, your entire world can come to a crashing halt UNTIL your attention is completely reverted back to Him.  He is a jealous God and will not compete with anything or anyone for that matter.  There will be no other idols placed before him.  Michael Jackson had consumed my thoughts for years and God used his downfall to remind me that my love for Him had to take precedence. 

I was recently made aware that in the recent weeks, Michael Jackson accepted the Lord Jesus into his heart as Lord and Savior.  I was elated.  Isn’t it ironic that the king of Pop realized the need for the King of Kings?  It seems that his decision to embrace Christ was birthed out of an acute awareness that nothing in his life is worth anything without being a child of the King.  Having this knowledge makes his death a little easier for me.  Although still sad, I now know that he is performing in the heavenly concert above.  Thank you Jesus for showing both me and Michael who we ought to worship!   You alone are worthy!!

To learn more about Ingrid Michelle, click here

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