Singing Your Song

I am grateful for the people in my life who have been singing to me lately. They are reminding me of who I am. And quite honestly, I’ve been struggling with that a bit. I have needed singers in my life, and God has provided them for me. Let me explain:

The other day, I heard a story about a song. A story about identity. It is supposed to be true, but I can’t verify it. Either way, it’s got a great message. Here’s how it goes:

There is an African tribe where pregnant women go out into the wilderness with their friends to “hear the song of the child.” After hearing the song, they return and teach it to the tribe. When the baby is born, the whole tribe gathers to chant the song. As the child grows, he/she hears the whole tribe singing their song many times: when they start school, when they pass into adulthood, and when they get married. When they die, the tribe gathers around the death bed to sing them into eternity. Another time that the song is sung is when/if the child commits a crime or horrible act. The tribe calls them into the center of a circle and then sings their song to them – reminding them of who they are. It’s not sung with judgment, but with love and concern for the child who has forgotten who he is.

Alan Cohen (who I believe authored the original story) writes, “A friend is someone who knows your song and sings it to you when you have forgotten it. Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made or dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused.”

I love the idea of reminding each other of our identity during those precious times of transition in our lives. And also when we have done something wrong, but I think there’s a crucial element missing in this story – Jesus. As a Christian, my identity is in Him, and Him alone. When I need to be reminded of my beauty, my wholeness, my innocence, and my purpose, I need to be reminded of Jesus. For I am only beautiful, whole, innocent, and given purpose as I find myself in Him. The “friend who knows my song and sings it to me” is Jesus. He knows me better than anyone and can remind me by speaking/singing through the voices of my brothers/sisters in Christ.

And for me, that’s exactly what He is doing in my life right now. I’m down and so He is using all my friends to remind me of who I am. My friends are singing to me and I am grateful to both them (the singers) and Jesus who is the one behind the song.


Other Stuff:

By the way, here’s a short list of what I know about my identity in Him: Who I Am in Christ

And here’s a song I wrote for my kids: Fade Away Lullabye

P.S. – If you’re interested in the original story I read, you can find it here: http://www.motivateus.com/stories/thesong.htm

King of the Hill & Dad

Miranda, Kasen, and I went camping this past weekend with my family. All the Corns and Underwoods met together at Possum Kingdom Lake. It was great! Here’s a link for some of the pics. Memorial Day Pics. The downside is that a bunch of the pics aren’t here ’cause the camera flew into the lake. The little tether cord broke and . . .well, it went into the lake.

Anyway, one of the moments that stuck out to me happened while we were on the lake after the camera went overboard. My brother bought a tube to pull behind the boat that was over 8 feet in diameter. It was huge. Anyway, at one point the kids just wanted to let it float in the middle of the lake and play King of the Hill. It was like having our own little American-Gladiators-style sumo-wrestling match. When all his kids were on the tube, Roger, (my brother) dove off the boat right into the middle of them. Instead of being the parent who forbid his kids to wrestle, he jumped into the middle of it and played right alongside them. In that moment, I saw my brother transform into the image of my dad 25 years earlier, and I dreamed of the day that I’d do that same sort of thing with Kasen. It was a beautiful moment.

By the way, I also saw my brother-in-law, Schonn, bantering back and forth with the kids – threatening to make them fall off the tube just like my dad would have done too. It was great fun!

My dad has been dead for years, but he went with us to Possum Kingdom Lake this past weekend. My dad is alive and well inside each of us. I could almost hear his voice as we sat around in our chairs under the clear night sky. I saw him on the lake and in the boat.

I love you dad. Thanks for playing such a big role in our lives – even now. You have certainly left a legacy to be proud of.