Do you ever wonder if you will have an iconic moment in your life?
Like one of those moments where you stop and think, wow, I am really here right now.
Have you ever felt too old, too late, too weird, or too “this doesn’t make sense for my age” to show up somewhere that excites your soul?
Have you ever talked yourself out of joy because it did not look practical, mature, or impressive enough?
Same.
Which is how I found myself standing outside the TLC Chinese Theater, surrounded by screaming children, floating bubbles, and adults pretending they were there “for their kids,” when we all knew they were there for SpongeBob SquarePants.
Yes. SpongeBob.
And before you judge me, let me say this clearly. I do not have a problem being an adult. I just refuse to act like one all the time.
This was not just any event. This was history. SpongeBob SquarePants was getting his handprint in cement. The first cartoon character ever to do so. An iconic moment. And when I heard about it, something inside me said, you have to go. Not because it was logical. Not because it fit my age bracket. But because it sparked joy. And I am old enough now to know that joy is never an accident.
The kids were losing their minds. Bubbles were floating everywhere. High pitched voices were singing the SpongeBob theme song at a volume that could crack glass. Parents were smiling, filming, and silently calculating how much caffeine they needed to survive the rest of the day. It was chaos. Beautiful, joyful chaos.
And honestly, watching kids celebrate something they love without shame is one of the most healing things you can witness as an adult. Kids do not care if it is “cool.” They do not ask if it is age appropriate. They do not wonder what people will think. They just feel joy and go all in. Somewhere along the way, many of us traded that freedom for looking composed.
I knew I was probably too old to be there. I also knew I did not care.
I have a childlike heart. I prefer cartoons over movies with real people. Real people are stressful. Cartoons are honest. Cartoons do not pretend they have it all together. They are sponges who live in pineapples under the sea and still show up happy every day. That feels relatable.
While I was there, I got to meet the voiceover actors. And can I just say, it is hilarious how cartoons start to look like the people who voice them. Or maybe the people start becoming the cartoons. Either way, there was something magical about it.
What stood out the most was how childlike they were. These were successful, accomplished adults who had every reason to be serious, reserved, and above it all. Instead, they were playful. They were interactive. They were fully present with the kids. No egos. No distance. Just joy. And I thought, this is what success looks like when you do not lose yourself along the way.
Watching SpongeBob walk toward the wet cement was comedy in itself. The costume was massive. He needed about five people helping him move. Every step looked like a wobble of faith. He moved so slowly it felt like the longest walk of his life. You could almost hear him thinking, please do not fall, please do not fall, I am one slip away from becoming SpongeBob FlatPants.
When he finally stepped into the cement and survived without face planting in Hollywood history, the kids erupted. Cheers. Screams. Pure delight. And for a moment, everything else faded away. No stress. No worries. Just joy over a sponge putting his hands in cement.
If that sentence does not humble you, I do not know what will.
After the ceremony, something else caught my attention. Two kids, maybe fifth grade age, were interviewing the voiceover actors. Real microphones. Real questions. Real confidence. And right behind them was their dad, recording every second like it was the Oscars.
That moment hit me right in the heart.
There was no eye rolling. No embarrassment. No “this is just a phase.” There was support. Pride. Belief. Those kids were not being told who they could become someday. They were being allowed to practice becoming it now.
And then, as if the universe said, let’s make this even better, Luke Skywalker showed up.
Yes. Luke Skywalker.
Apparently he is friends with the writer, and casually decided to attend like this was no big deal. So there I was, watching SpongeBob make history and accidentally running into one of the most iconic characters of all time.
I had to laugh. Because that is how life works sometimes. You show up for one iconic moment and get surprised by another.
Standing there, surrounded by kids, cartoons, and icons, something shifted in me. I realized that iconic moments are not reserved for celebrities or milestones that make sense on paper. They happen when you show up fully to things that light you up.
We all have the ability to create iconic moments in our lives. Not because the world declares them iconic, but because our hearts recognize them as meaningful.
An iconic moment does not have to be flashy. It can be taking your parents on trips they never got to take. It can be starting over when everyone thought you were done. It can be showing up to a SpongeBob ceremony when your inner child needs reminding that joy is still allowed.
So many of us are waiting for permission to live fully. Waiting until it makes sense. Waiting until we feel worthy. Waiting until it looks impressive enough to post. Meanwhile, life is happening right now.
What if your iconic moment is not something you chase, but something you allow?
What if it starts with saying yes to joy without explanation?
Watching SpongeBob wobble into cement reminded me that sometimes it is okay to move slow, need help, and still make history. Watching kids sing at the top of their lungs reminded me that passion does not need approval. Watching parents support dreams reminded me that belief changes everything.
And if a cartoon sponge can have an iconic moment, trust me, so can you.
The lesson we can all learn is simple but powerful. Do not age out of wonder. Do not talk yourself out of joy. Do not wait for life to feel official before you start living it fully.
Iconic moments are created by people who show up with childlike hearts, open hands, and the courage to enjoy what they love, even when it looks silly.
Remember you are my lovers, whether you love me or love to hate me you are still my lover!
Don’t forget Jesus loves you and so do I!
