A Gift Taken To Soon: Honoring Whitney Houston

A Gift Taken Too Soon

The news came like a kick in the stomach. Not entirely unexpected – we knew she had problems – but we hoped it would be decades before Whitney Houston’s drama would end in the most final of ways. She’s left us after a mere 48 years, her early exit punctuating a life so impressive, but so cautionary. She achieved, battled, re-achieved, struggled. And those of us who’ve wrestled with a passion or habit know exactly what that means.

It means discovering something that delivers comfort, ecstasy, pain-killing relief, or distraction. Then it means trying to incorporate that something into your life without seeing it will demand taking precedence over all that matters most to you. Then it means trying to tame the something, or hide it, or be permanently free of your longing for it, only to realize it’s lodged itself so deeply in you it now seems part of your very core. And all the while you can’t see what a train wreck your life is becoming.

I know all about train wrecks. I made one of my own life back in 1978 when I incorporated porn into my routine, which morphed into anonymous sexual encounters, an aborted child, sexual perversions and a thoroughly darkened mind. Whitney’s Something was of a more chemical nature, her substance abuse publicly acknowledged at times; at other times, untamed and escalating, it showed its tracks in erratic behavior, climaxing in a marriage everyone but she seemed appalled by. Or in her gaunt appearance, reducing a markedly lovely young woman to sullen frailty. Worst, perhaps, was the damage it did to a powerhouse voice that had been astonishing millions since it came charging out of the gates on her debut album, now raspy and stunted. The Something overshadowed the gift and the vessel, eroding both.

As it always does. Where Ms. Houston’s early success inspires is in its reminder of the power of the gift the Giver gives. It makes room for a person, Proverbs 18:16 reminds us, giving that person varying degrees of access and influence. Whitney’s degrees were immeasurable; for most of us, the numbers are lower but the impact is there. If you’ve been born again you’re a member of the Body of Christ, your unique gift and function needed. If you jeopardize both through a Something outside God’s will, you rob the rest of us of what we need from you. (I Corinthians 12:21) Note the general outrage over losing Whitney so soon. We feel ripped off, denied the joy of what God gave her to share. Let’s you and I never be part of such a robbery. The Lady we mourn clearly had pain in her own life apart from the drug use, pain we’ll probably never know and needn’t. What is needed, though, is a commitment from each of us to deal with ourselves more carefully, keep ourselves accountable for the weak areas of our lives, and see afresh the value God’s placed on us as people, and on the gifting and potential He’s entrusted us with.

As for Houston, I hope and believe she’s absent from the body and present with the Lord. She was raised in church, after all, heiress to a gospel singing legacy and surely familiar with Christ’s promises. I see Him receiving her, judging and rewarding her works, then ushering her in. I also see myself registering, when my gig’s done, for a bass part in the heavenly choir Sister Whitney, eternity’s duly appointed vocal champ, will no doubt be directing by then. And the gift will shine again, uninterrupted and forever.

Meanwhile, more earthly images of come her to mind: Artist Struggler, Diva, Actress.

And Pilgrim. See it for yourself on YouTube (and embedded below), Whitney in top form, eyes raised and softly beautiful, caressing a verse of “Jesus Loves Me” in what seems to be both performance and prayer:

I’m pressing on the upward way

Always guide me, Lord, I pray.

I know I’m undeserving and stubborn willed,

But never fail to love me still.