
I watched most of Whitney Houston’s funeral. I kept thinking the whole time, “This shouldn’t be happening. This should be the funeral of someone much older who had lived a full life and was ready to go.” If Whitney was in the news, it should be that her comeback album was due and how she was sounding better than ever.
But that was not the case.
Kevin Costner’s tribute resonated with me the most. He said that when she was auditioning for the leading female role in the bodyguard, she was plagued with insecurities. She kept asking, “Am I good enough? Am I pretty enough? Will people like me?” Those were the questions she had asked all her life.
For so many of us, we ask those same questions. I personally have never asked if I was pretty enough, but I did wonder if I really had what it takes and if I could ever be attractive to the opposite sex.
Sadly, many look for answers in the wrong places. Too many seek to numb the pain of the questions when they can’t find the answers. Whitney’s own struggles with her own demons were ones she couldn’t overcome in the end.
I am thankful I can look at my faith and find the answers to these questions. I’m thankful that when Jesus said, “I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life,” He meant it.
Whitney, if I could tell you anything, it would be this. Yes, you were more than good enough; you were great. You were more than pretty enough; you were beautiful. You were so much more than liked; you were loved by so many.
Not because you could sing better than just about anybody who has ever lived. Not because you were beautiful and had that breathtaking smile that made us believe what you sang about.
Not because you sold millions of albums or had sold-out concerts or had those 7 #1 singles in a row. It was because you were a child of the King. It was because Jesus loved you before you were even born and set His affections on you from the very beginning.
Jesus loved you through it all, the good and bad days. Even when you were hopelessly addicted to drugs and alcohol. Even when you had wrecked your once-glorious voice. Even when you had become a running joke to the media.
And Jesus loves you still. Nothing will ever change that.
I can’t speak to Whitney in person, but I can speak to millions of teenage Whitneys out there, crying for someone to tell them they are good enough and pretty enough and to love them for who they are.
Jesus does. He can take the most wrecked and ruined life and transform it into something more beautiful than anything you can imagine. He can take your very worst moment and turn that into the first sentence of your testimony.
Whitney, you may have lost the battle to drugs, but you won the war in Jesus. You are now free from those fears and anxieties you never could shake, those painful memories that haunted you, those voices that not even cocaine and alcohol could drown out.
As I heard in the funeral, it seems like death had the last word. But Love is so much stronger than death, for Jesus disarmed it completely when He stepped out of the grave on Easter Sunday morning.
The legacy of your music and your love for Jesus will outlive the drugs and alcohol and scandal. You fought the good fight and God looked down and saw it was time for you to come Home.
Rest in the arms of your Abba Father tonight, Whitney.