Death of Whitney Houston–written late Saturday night, February 11, 2012

It’s just desperately sad. 

A comment tonight on CNN about Whitney Houston’s death.  At age 48.  It struck me tonight…we, at least for the most part, do not know how long we will live.  Sure, exceptions.  But, for the most part, the primary negotiability in our breathing and walking is how well.

Cause of death not revealed, although Thursday night in rehearsals for Grammy Awards tomorrow night, Whitney Houston was attending, helping a couple of singers.  Comments indicated alcohol and cigarettes “heavy on her breath.”

Desperately sad.  “I will always love you” is her signature song.  [Didn’t know it was written by Dolly Parton].  I happened to REALLY appreciate “Waiting to Exhale.”  In fact, it hits pretty heavy tonight because “Shoop, Shoop, Exhale” was important in the current writings…at a critical time when one of the characters was reaching up to touch bottom.

Okay.  She wasted her life.  As it appears.  Perhaps in the marriage to Bobby Brown the troubles and agony began.  Of course we don’t know.  Just a thought.

And yet, may the unsettled life not preempt the power of her singing.   What a voice.  Strong.  Poignant.  Connecting.

Lionel Richie commented, “She had that voice…no end to what range she could hit…and the message…the message was already there.”    As it appears she spiraled down, “At times I love my life.  At times I hate it.”

Goodness.  May she rest in peace…if God can happen that.

In thinking back, it is also true.  The drugs warped the voice.  Some who know more about this than most of us indicated, “Her voice because raspy and the range left.”

How sad.

Not sure of any reflections now…it’s late Saturday night…but in this death it comes back again.  As it has through every single death in every congregation I served and during conference ministry:  God’s heart is the first to break.  And with the Apostle Paul, “Whether we live or whether we die, we belong to the Lord.”

Those are words of faith.  And at times, through life, and especially when death arrives, we can only hope that we will have lived our best and our fullest…for it’s not the length of life but the depth of living that matters.

May that be for us that each dawning day is experienced as God’s gift.  May it be for everyone who reads this and those whom you love.