I watched the Oscars on Sunday, did you? I didn’t make it through all four hours or whatever the show clocked in at, but I got my fill of the fashion, the star-studded seats, the music, and, ahem, Bradley Cooper.

I’m not a movie buff, but I do enjoy a good flick. Most of the films (beyond the animated features) I hadn’t even seen. I wasn’t rooting for anyone, nor was I on edge about who would win. But I watched anyway. A billion people watched anyway. Why? What’s so fascinating about watching this awards show?

I think there’s a little part of all of us that’s imagined what it would be like to be a movie star. At one time or another, we’ve all stood in front of a mirror with a hairbrush and rehearsed our acceptance speech. I’ve daydreamed about what it would be like to be a part of the Oscars crowd. After all, they’ve got it all: beauty, loads of money, influence, fame. They have made a mark on this world, and will be remembered by many after they’re long gone. Barbara Streisand will sing to them, just like she did to the In Memorandum section last night.

I think that’s why a lot of us watch the Oscars, read the tabloids, and fascinate about the stars. As far as American ideals go, these people have it all. And that thought made me a little sad. Not because I’m not beautiful, rich, or famous (I’m not), but because I fall for it.

I’m so steeped in American culture and ideals that there’s a whole section of my subconscious and often conscious mind that really believes it all. I’ll be happy when…I have more money, lose ten pounds, buy a house, earn some influence, make a mark. But it’s simply not true, and that’s why we’re all so sad here in the US of A. We’ve been duped, and our vision of what life should be is seriously, terribly, freakishly off. We spend so much of our lives pursuing dreams and ideals that don’t matter at all, that won’t make us happy at all. That’s why rich people get sad, too, why celebrities kill themselves, why famous people struggle through life just like normal peons. They have the American everything, but nothing at all.

Solomon had it right when he declared this life meaningless, a chasing after the wind. And he had it “all.” If you struck it rich, got a celebrity makeover, and became a famous star overnight, you’d see it, too. You’d still have most of the same problems, sadnesses, and griefs as you did before. You might be more comfortable, but you’d still battle your sinful nature, get sick at one point or another, become disappointed, carry your own griefs, experience the world’s hatred, and one day, die.

Our minds like to fantasize that there may be a pot of gold at the end of the mythical rainbow, but there just isn’t. Nothing on this earth can make us as happy as we like to think it could. There’s only one answer to our deep-seated desires for happiness, peace, and fulfillment. There’s only one heaven, and it isn’t here on earth.

As soon as we realize this truth, life becomes easier to bear. There’s a huge relief when we step off the treadmill of greed, jealousy, fame-seeking and beauty-chasing. We’re not made for this. We’re made for so much more.

I think it’s incredibly ironic that these people we worship at the Oscars are actors. It just reinforces the truth that most of this life is a ruse; most of it is all smoke and mirrors and nose jobs. And it’s kind of comforting for those of us who can’t afford the smoke and mirrors and nose jobs. If you can see through all of that, if you can adjust your vision and live by faith, you can see that this life is about one thing: our relationship with Jesus. He’s the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, the fulfillment of our dreams, our destinies, our hopes. He’s the one that will fill up that deep, dark hole of need inside all of us. He’s our ticket to happiness and peace.

All our dreams about being beautiful, loved, adored, and leaving a lasting legacy? That’s our soul crying for heaven, not a seat at the Oscars.