ChristianMusicDaily

In Nashville, Tennessee, there’s a label used for a select group of musicians, vocalists, and instrumentalists—“First Call.” These are the ones a producer calls first for a recording project. They’re able to make a living by playing, singing, arranging and performing. First callers comprise a sliver of those who come to New York, Chicago, Los Angeles or Nashville hoping to find a dream come true. With a great deal of fear and trembling, and a healthy dose of optimism Marty McCall, Melodie Tunney and myself named our trio “First Call” in hopes of getting those much prized phone calls for work. God blessed our naive, well-intentioned efforts.

Looking back at my personal theological background, my evolution from my theological roots to working with First Call could only have been the work of heaven’s hands. Growing up, I knew nothing about contemporary Christian music. (Not to be confused with Southern Gospel Music and its legacy.) 

My church taught me as a child that is was wrong to have instrumentation in services, and so I found a place to develop my gifting by becoming involved with community theatre and stage band work. Yes, I loved Jesus, but I took on musical theatre roles and sang in night clubs because I didn’t know I had any other options.

Fast forward to the early 1980s when, newly married, my next door neighbor, Mike Blanton, called me to ask if I might be interested in going on tour as a background singer for a new young girl named Amy. She had been touring alone, with her own sweet voice and a guitar. Michael explained that her management company wanted to do something more--put Amy out on the road with a band....DeGarmo and Key...and four background vocalists. This was a no-brainer. I was thrilled to have another chance to sing!

Little did I know that on this tour, God would change my heart, introduce me to Christian music and move me on a path toward First Call’s calling and onto my own solo ministry.

When my daughter Courtney was born in 1983, Marty had started his family with his son Ben, and Mel had yet to have her first daughter, Whitney. We began doing studio work in Nashville, singing background vocals on jingles, commercials, and other artist’s projects, called to sing together because of the unique sound we seemed to have.

I’ve always said we sing so loudly, and full of passion that it goes to tape really well. For whatever providential reasons, God allowed us to tour with Sandi Patty and record five projects together, winning Dove Awards, Grammy nominations and the slow realization that people actually liked the work we somewhat took for granted.

Mel worked with Marty and me for many precious years. When she left the group to literally “regroup,” staying home and seeking how to serve God and her growing family, now including Dick, Whitney and Kelsey, it was a turning point for First Call. Mel was a pivotal part of our birth and development, not to mention our sound and soul.

In choosing another member, we knew no one could take Mel’s place. Marty and I would seek out another individual artist with her own voice, her own style to bring into our ongoing work. Marabeth Jordon was the woman of talent, creativity and depth we had prayed for. She had a style all her own, and a willing heart to serve the legacy First Call was being led to build.

For another five years, First Call recorded projects with Marabeth. She became a fully integrated and an equal partner in ownership of the trio in every way. I will always stand amazed and grateful at her talents, efforts and sacrifices made to give all she had to our ministry.

Then came the enemy, on many levels, to try and tear apart what the Lord had blessed. Hindsight is a strange friend. I have a habit of keeping journals on my life, whether or not it’s a good idea, at least it provides me a place to pray to God on paper, chronicle the barest places in my heart and at times, a way to see things unfolding. When I look back on my scrawling through the last months of First Call as a trio, I see the hallmark signs of trouble.

In my book, Blessed Are The Desperate For They Will Find Hope (Harvest House, 2000, available on www.bonniekeen.com), one can find my journal entries on this time and how it affected my heart, hopes, strength and will to go on. 

My marriage fell apart amidst the games and pain of betrayals, wounds of human sexual needs, and ultimately ended because of certain choices. I felt my ministry would never be vulnerable to these issues. I was wrong. All of us have our Achilles heel--that place the enemy knows we can stumble, trip and fall.

Marabeth became involved with another high profile CCM artist, Michael English, on a major tour, with a new recording contract signed and ready to move into, and on the threshold of a season of potential elevation for our ministry. But her choices and her pain brought her to a place of disgrace for both her family and our ministry.

There is no way to judge her without having to look into my mirror. Yes, I prayed for her to miss this “bullet.” Yes, I asked she and Michael on that tour not to play with fire. Yes, I wanted First Call to continue. Yes, I was angry and tremendously beaten down by the consequences of her choices.Yet, I know that the voices of “success” had lured First Call into places we entered-- naive, and in denial of danger--places that still call to those who want to see their ministry grow in spite of what it costs. 

Marty, Marabeth and I were prey to those who had their own agenda of what we should be. There were voices of those who promised solo careers, bigger visibility that sang to us in various ways.  Hindsight, my bittersweet friend, frequently reminds me that all three of us played into the hand of the enemy by not questioning more, not standing our ground, not holding onto what GOD spoke to us in the middle of the conundrum of the industry’s plan.

When Marabeth told us in tears that she was pregnant with another artist’s child, we were stunned, and ultimately beyond grief. No one believed that the flirtations we’d seen on the road had crossed into life damaging territory. I could not breathe driving home after our meeting that night. She asked for prayer and to be released from any more work with the group. None of us knew what to do.

Media chaos came down...our picture in this little bubble circle in The National Enquirer, press calling to get comments, our new label denying any involvement with us...basically an emotional meltdown. Marabeth was hounded by television trash shows, her family in shreds, and First Call caught in the wake of a tidal wave of destruction.

Fast forward...we never recovered from this scenario. Marty and I continued to record two more projects with Warner Alliance before this label was put on hold. And the song, “Let the Healing Begin” (written by Lowell Alexander and Cheryl Rogers about the Oklahoma City bombing) became our mantra. Healing...moving on...learning...praying...forgiving.

I was angry with Marabeth. I was angry with managers and record companies and booking agencies who turned their heads to a brewing explosion. I was angry at myself for not being a better friend in the aftermath. Anger swirled inside of me and was a catalyst in my clinical depression that took me down in the following year. Yet, the Lord worked in me, a precious gift of learning about forgiveness.

Grace begets forgiveness. Forgiveness begets a sense of longing for justice. This yearning leads one to the cross. On the cross, Jesus became all the injustice, the betrayals, the failures, the injuries and pain for all of mankind. Only from His voice on that cross, bleeding, suffering, dying for all, can one find peace and release from the anger that engulfs our souls.

When I look at Christ on that cross, all I can do is ask for mercy for my own ignorance, tears, suffering, and need for apology. His voice speaks, “I’m sorry,” even if I never hear it from places I would choose to speak those words. His blood reminds me that I am forgiven for all my failings. If I am forgiven, how dare I not walk in new life, new grace and forgiveness for others? There is no right for any who claim to lean on the amazing grace of Jesus to act, speak or withhold that grace to others…No excuse.

So I choose to thank God daily for the work He allowed First Call to do. I believe those projects will stand the test of time. As I love Melodie and Marty for all we shared, I am also aware of the forever times I shared with Marabeth. We sing together on sessions and thankfully we are able to look each other in the eye with an unspoken acknowledgment of a shared time together.There is peace after pain. It does not come by being held captive to the hurt. It comes by looking at the One who became the pain for us, and promised to comfort us in our places of suffering.

In the new solo ministry God has opened for me, I speak often to beaten down men and women who don’t know how to find their way in a world where the rug is continually pulled out from under their dreams. Pain has allowed me the great gift of speaking peace in Christ to those who despair.

What the enemy tried to use to cripple both First Call’s ministry and more importantly, my heart...the cross of Christ has used to redeem and give strength to my small voice in this world.  To Christ, forever, the suffering Son of Man, the risen Son of God, be the glory forever, thank you precious Lord...Alleluia!

Get Bonnie's book here.