The song remembers when...

Last weekend, my oldest son, Corbin, sang in his last high school talent show. He plays guitar and he sings—like an angel! He has the most beautiful voice. 

Corbin is singing with Marley Johnson, Abby McVay and Eric Albers. He's wearing white so it's hard to see him (middle) but you can still hear his beautiful voice! 



I sat there in the audience, in the same exact seat as I had every year in every talent show since the 8th grade, bursting with pride and love. Every year, I listened as he brought the house down with his talent and his passion for each of the songs he sings. It's clear to everyone, including me, that he's not only good at it, but he loves it. (Of course the girls love it, which is the part I hate, because in addition to singing and playing guitar, he's also tall and very handsome... I've had to show restraint as I pass girls who don't know I'm Corbin's mom talking about how "smokin' hot" he is... Lol!)

If you read these blogs you know the dramatic story of my Christian salvation, the ten years I spent afterward running from God in anger, blaming him for the mess that was my life and thinking that I'd been tricked and that He wasn't really there, and the even more dramatic unfolding of events that led to my re-dedication to Christ... I got pregnant with Corbin my senior year of college. I was 23, my life was in the worst shape it had ever been (at that point anyway, as it got way worse later), and I had a job waiting for me clear across the country right after college graduation, as far away from home as I could get without going overseas. I had an internship the beginning of my senior year, and so I was almost 5 months when I got home and found out I was pregnant. The day I was leaving for that internship, I was at the airport, fantastically miserable and struggling with getting on the plane or going home and just ending it all. I'd attempted suicide before, but I really meant it this time; I had even gotten a gun and some bullets to make sure it was final. I was scared and confused so I did something I hadn't done in ten years: I prayed. I didn't even know what I was doing; it was just this intense NEED to talk to the Lord. I said ok God, if You're there and You're listening, You know what's up, so I can go home right now and be done with this miserable existence by the end of the day or I can get on this plane and trust You and whatever plan it is that only You seem to get; what's it gonna be?! And He said, I've got you; I know you're scared but hold onto Me and let everything else go; stop whining, trust Me and get on the plane! So I did. And once on the plane, I said to God, I don't know what the future holds or what my life is supposed to be but I recognize that I'm screwing up badly, so I give whatever is left of it to You.

What I didn't know that day was that I was pregnant with Corbin. If I'd chosen death, I would have been responsible for two deaths, mine and my son's. But I got on that plane, oblivious that I was about to be a mom but determined to "give this God thing a real try." My senior year was SO hard. I was scared to death and was a tad bit in denial. But I made it through and had Corbin 3 days after his birth father married someone else and 6 weeks before I graduated college. And so the journey began...

Even after all of that, it was still another 14 years, AS A CHRISTIAN, before I surrendered completely my way for His way. As of this writing, that final surrender was exactly 4 years and 10 months ago—what I refer to as my "recovery birthday" and which brings me back to today and why I'm feeling what I'm feeling as I watched my son perform.  

Corbin brings the audience to its feet every time, a standing ovation for all 5 years he's been in the talent show. He used to have horrific stage fright, and his very first talent show in 8th grade was his way of trying to overcome it. And he did! He's performed by himself and with others, but each time his voice stands out to me. But this fifth time, at his last talent show, I'm moved in a different way and for reasons beyond it being his high school finale. I cry the whole time I'm recording it. And the whole time I'm listening to him sing, I'm also recalling, vividly, his entire life. I'm reflecting in the space of one song what a miracle he is! This is the first year he leaves the guitar playing to someone else, as he sings with 3 others, and the song they chose is so appropriate for me as the last one for his high school career. Because after this senior year, everything changes. He begins life as an adult, and I know I'll see him less than I do now and I miss him already. 

The song is "Home" by Phillip Phillips. Read the lyrics and after reading this story, you'll see why I think God put this song on Corbin's heart for the finale of his high school musical career. ; D

Hold on, to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home
Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble, it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found
Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home
Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble, it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found
Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home

When Corbin first chose this song, I liked it but thought he could find a better one that better showcased his incredible talent. However, it wasn't until after he performed it and I listened to it on the way home—REALLY listened, hearing the lyrics instead of my stupid thoughts—that I realized that unbeknownst to Corbin, God had a message to both of us with this last performance. Phillip Phillips wrote a song 17 YEARS after the fact that described perfectly what I heard Christ saying to me during my pregnancy with Corbin; how the Lord calmed me during my panic attacks, kept me strong through one of the hardest years of my life and brought peace to me in my darkest nights, assuring me that He was there, that my unborn son and I were in His hands and that we were going to be okay as long as I held onto Him with everything I had. 

All of this was 17 years ago, but it all came flooding back to me in the space of one song... Isn't it ironic how one song with just the right lyrics works like a time machine, instantly transporting you back to times past and memories muffled by life and new experiences? That's why God made music so powerful and why it's sooooo important to be intentionally mindful of the music you listen to... It affects you, whether you know it or not. Music is a universal language that transcends time and space; the common denominator between all people throughout eternity. As Trisha Yearwood so eloquently wrote, "the song remembers when."

I have not yet shared this with my my son... Corbin has no idea yet of the message God has laid on my heart or how ironic it is when things come full circle... He has no idea how it feels for me, as his mother, to hear him sing... I am a writer with an excellent vocabulary, yet I'm unable to describe it exactly... When I hear his voice, it's almost like looking at a scarred canvas of a painting that was once beautiful and now it's marred with all the mistakes I've made over time... but I can feel God's brush of healing in every note, with every stroke, and there's both pain and joy as the song unfolds... and I just watch, transfixed, as he turns ashes into beauty with the most incredible soundtrack I've ever heard... like watching a really great story unfold, piece by piece, on a movie screen, where the best moments are set to awesome background music... and when it's all over, you are fundamentally changed, a different person from who you were when it began, and you can't WAIT to hear it again! In other words, when I hear Corbin sing, I can see and hear and smell and feel and taste Heaven itself. I open my eyes, and there's this breathtakingly beautiful picture in place where a grotesquely ugly one used to be, and the picture is restored to something more incredible than you could have ever imagined, making every crappy experience and every ounce of pain worth going through for the sake how I feel in that one moment... The song isn't one you would have chosen to hear, but when it's over you can't imagine what your life would have been like if you hadn't! 

That doesn't do the feeling justice, but it's the closest I can get. 

That song, and hearing my son sing it at that exact moment in time, was ordained by Christ. I thought I was merely going to see my son perform on stage at my alma mater one more time. But the Lord intended all along for it to be much more than that. Because I was reminded that God always keeps His promises. At a time when I wasn't very close to the Lord, and was trusting Him more out of desperation than anything else, He promised me that if I would hold onto Him, no matter what He'd lead me, be there for me and teach me how to be a mom. He promised that I could trust Him with my son, and that He'd make a home for us. And that's exactly what He did. I have more blessings than I can count or deserve. Corbin has grown into a fantastic human being. He loves Jesus and is the kind of kid any parent would be proud to have. God has kept every promise He ever made to me, and then some. 

As soon as I publish this blog, I'm going to write a thank you letter to Phillip Phillips and tell him what his song means to me and why. 

Then I'm going to go upstairs and tell my beautiful son how much I love him and how proud I am of him. I'm going to tell him how God literally saved my life by giving me a Savior and a child to live for and how his very existence is such a miracle, to me and to every life he touches. God has big, BIG plans for this kid!

C.S. Lewis said: "I pray because I can't help myself. The need for it flows out of me all the time. Prayer doesn't change Him, it changes me." How true this is. 

Later in Lewis' life, while his wife was dying of cancer, he was discussing her imminent death with her, but it hurt so much that he tried to avoid it. He said he couldn't bear the pain of losing her. But she loved him as much as he did her, so she insisted that he deal with it and talk to her about it. She said, "You cannot manage pain, and talking about it doesn't diminish happiness; it makes the happiness real. The pain then is part of the happiness now." I didn't know it during my pregnancy with Corbin; I could only feel the fear and the pain. But that's where faith comes in. Now I know, as I watched my son perform a beautiful song, that the pain I felt then is part of the happiness I feel now.

Wherever you are and whatever circumstances you are in, hold onto Christ and don't let go. You aren't alone. He will make a home for you.

+++++++++++

If you have a problem with the video on this page, here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZaIcpuAFOUY

Live in front of people.

I think Christians do a monumental disservice to themselves and to those around them when they hide. 

Some of you aren't quite sure what this means. The rest of you know exactly what I'm talking about. 

I believe Jesus was the most authentic person who ever lived. He's certainly the one true God, and the time He spent as humanity was done so well that to me, it leaves no room for doubt about what the standard is.

Although He felt every human emotion and thought every human thought, Jesus' execution in the game of life was perfect. I believe this is because Jesus was real. He did not pretend. He owned His emotions, confessed them and His thoughts to God, and acted accordingly. Everything He did was in love, in truth and by the Spirit.

We are never going to be perfect as human beings. We are never going to be anything we should or want to be outside of the Lord. It's just not possible. I think the rub is when we expect ourselves to be perfect or kill ourselves trying to attain that standard knowing in our deepest places that it's not possible. And that is where hope begins to die. 

Then, because we don't want to admit defeat or be judged, or have someone else tell us what to do... we hide. Our lives may be blowing up in our faces, the pieces falling apart all around us. Yet instead of just saying, "I'm DYING HERE!" we say instead, "Oh, I'm fine! Everything is great!" Maybe it feels safer in that moment. Or perhaps we just do not want to get into it... Whatever the reason, we hide. We go with "I am fine" even when those asking can clearly see that's not true, and even when we know they know... we hide. 

I believe this leads to us having expectations of others that are unfair, unrealistic, and--quite frankly--irresponsible. When you don't take onus in your own life, it only leads to an increased criticism of other people. Because when we can't (or won't) control what's going on in our own lives, we try to control others. 

How's that workin' for ya? 

I used to be SO GOOD at hiding. I made it an art form. I achieved the greatest success one can in this endeavor: I hid in plain sight. I stood in front of hundreds and thousands of people, proclaiming truth while living by a lie. I shouted from the rafters about how everyone should make Christ Lord of their lives when I kept lordship of my own. I gave all kinds of fantastic advice that I wasn't taking. 

It wasn't that I was lying; I wasn't. I told them the truth. And it wasn't that I didn't believe; I did. The problem was in the gap between what I knew to be true and my ability to live that out in the manner I felt I was "supposed to" as a "Christian." I was afraid of not being perfect, of falling short, of not measuring up to the expectations of others. Not because I didn't try, but because I didn't trust. The expectations and approval I should have been concerned with were the Lord's, and if I'd known Him then like I know Him now, I would have realized that there was no possible way for me to live truth outside of Him. I was so afraid of failure and inadequacy that I practically guaranteed both. I never intended to be a hypocrite. But that's what I was until I stopped hiding... from God and from myself.

Hiding is infinitely painful. In order to do it effectively I had to lie to myself, and over time I got so good at it that I could look into the mirror and see what I wanted to see. Ergo, it made it incredibly easy to show that facade to others. I didn't really have to try that hard. My pat answer for everything was, "I am fine." I could not take any kind of criticism. I could not be wrong. I was afraid all the time and hyper-suspicious of anyone who tried to show me friendship or true kindness. "I am fine" became my mantra just like Dori's was "just keep swimming."

Then Jesus brought me to Celebrate Recovery. Here I learned to tell myself the truth, but gently and in love. He made it safe for me to be honest, first with the Lord and then with others who were having the same issue. I'd spent so long wanting so desperately to be something I was terrified I couldn't ever be. That fear led to me pretending. I figured, fake it 'til ya make it, yeah? Except it didn't work. I turned into a shell of a person, talking out loud but living in secret. 

The Bible teaches us that we are only as sick as our secrets. If this is true (and it is) then no one ever gets anywhere by hiding. The freedom that Jesus Christ gives us is beyond measure. You don't have to pretend anymore to be someone you aren't because He makes you the person you are supposed to be. You don't have to do anything except trust and obey. In the end, dear friends, we do NOTHING. Christ does the work in you and through you... and you end up being more than you ever possibly imagined or wanted.

So if you want to stop hiding, and you want to stop pretending to be authentic and actually BE authentic, then I cannot stress this enough: Live in front of people. Live in front of people. 

This means trading in "I'm fine" for the truth. You don't have to explain every little detail to people. You just have to say, "God isn't finished with me yet." So you aren't fine... so what?! Do you think THEY are fine? So let them see! Let them see the good, the bad, the ugly, the weak, the strong, the conflicted, the terrible. This does not mean you live FOR others. It just means you live out loud. You will be judged, but you are being judged anyway. People will think things that aren't really true, but they think that anyway. Your honesty might make people mad, but that isn't on you, nor is it any of your business. Saying "I'm fine" when you aren't rarely fools people. It certainly doesn't fool God! He sees all your faults and issues anyway, and most of the time others do, too! So stop pretending. Stop hiding! 

Be who you are. All the time. In any given moment on any given day, be who you are. You don't have to be afraid of it. It will get messy, because life is just that way. It won't always be pretty. You won't always get it right, but you won't always get it wrong, either. Hypocrisy is not rooted in the gap between God's standard and how well we perform against that standard. Hypocrisy is rooted in denying that gap is there and trying to hide it from God and from others. Ergo, the antidote to hypocrisy is in admitting to that gap and trusting God to work it out as you obey. 

If you LIVE instead of hiding, it automatically and instantly doubles your chances for success in life and in all you undertake. Why? Because you are no longer invested in keeping up pretenses. If the truth is out, then the jig is up! Which means you don't have to be afraid, and hiding is no longer necessary. Your time and resources are freed up to pursue life, love and truth in reality, as they come, one day at a time. You get to the heart of it all much quicker if you aren't wasting time on things that aren't true and don't matter.

Here's the raw truth: The people around you will get WAY more out of watching you face, confront and work through a problem or conflict than if you pretend it isn't there. And so will you. They won't always like it, and they may give you a hard time about it. But they'll have to respect it. And in the end, you will respect yourself. There is no comparable measure for how incredible that feels, especially because it's not based on "they" but on "us" -- meaning, "me and God." And "they" can never take that away from you. 

No matter where you are, no matter what's going on, no matter how you feel or what is happening, good or bad... As best you can, try to stay in touch with where you are and who you are according to the LORD's leading and definition. If you go where HE says to go, then you will always be in the right place. If you obey Him and trust in who HE says you are, then you will always be the right person.

Ironically, all the things that are right and wonderful about you are not your gifts. Your greatest gifts, and mine, are the things that are wrong with you and, when those things are totally surrendered to the Lord, what He does with them for His own glory and to make us more like Him. The old adage is true: we learn more and grow more from our failures than our victories. In fact, one cannot truly be victorious unless one has first failed. And giving those failures to Christ changes the game! By all means, give God ALL of the glory when things are great and wonderful. But surrender the failures, too. When you give Christ all the things that do not work, do not fit in, do not blend, He will turn all of that into the very things that make you different and unique, that make you YOU. Only Christ can do this, and allowing Him to do so is your gift to Him and to the world around you.

THAT, my friends, is what it truly means to be a Christian! And what it means to be a balanced, well-rounded, ALIVE person… To live in front of people and allow them to see what only God can do with a life lived openly for and in Him.

One of the greatest things about life post-recovery that I get the most satisfaction out of is the continual opportunity for that emotional and cleansing exercise... Because I no longer pretend, I am no longer afraid. My life is lived as a string of moments, and sometimes those moments suck, quite frankly. But they are real, and every single one of them are learning experiences and building blocks that move me along in the right direction. Sometimes I enjoy the process, sometimes I don't. But I always consider that exercise to be a priceless investment in Christ, in life, in my family and in myself, one that produces true emotion, true thought, and a life that isn't perfect but is very much worth living. 

Jesus Has a Rocking Chair

(For Chandler Reid, 1988)

Jesus has a rocking chair
On which He sits with bended knee,

And all the children in Heaven

Come to sit in the lap of the King.

He plays with them, He sings to them,

He teaches them to pray.

They get personal attention from the Father

Each and every day…

Which they could have had from parents

Had they been given the chance to be born

But for the selfishness of a mother

Running from shame and scorn.

We kill our very own children

Who'd have called us "Mom" or "Dad."

Now they're with their eternal Father,

And of that we can be glad.

This child that I murdered,

This defenseless baby I mercilessly killed,

Now spends all her time with Jesus—  

Of Living Water, she gets her fill.

Do you know what He says to them?

Do you know what He tells them to do?

"My dear children, forgive them,

For they know not what they do…"

For to stand at the door

Of a clinic of death,

Denial must be in place;

Robbed of your God-given desire

To see your child's face…

"But I, Jesus, died for ALL sins;

No stone was left unturned.

My blood as Christ covers it all

With a love you cannot earn."

So the price is fully paid,

And because of His goodness and grace,

I look forward to holding my child in Heaven—  

To finally seeing her little face.

Yes, Jesus has a rocking chair.

And we can be sure, you see,

That all children go to Heaven

And sit atop His loving knee.

© 1995 Jenifer R. Barron

______________________________

"This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live." (Deuteronomy 30:19)