Several years ago, I was on a ministry trip in North Carolina. I came across a rather strange construction site out in the country. I stopped to ask some questions. The man told me that he was building a junk yard. It immediately registered in my brain that this junk yard didn’t have any junk in it. It was just a pasture with a tall fence around it. I was informed that it would gradually fill up with junk and fulfill its planned purpose.

A week later, I preached a sermon at a Free Methodist Church entitled, “The Junkyards Of My Mind”. A week after that, with the help of a couple of good friends, a song with the same title was born.

The verses deal with one of the biggies in the field of personal pain-rejection. It may have been other kids who thought you were a geek or the teacher who called you “stupid”. Maybe there was that pretty cheerleader with whom you were madly in love, who somehow couldn’t even remember your name.

The chorus says:

“Me and Jesus, we went walkin’-
through the junk yard of my mind Pokin’
through the rubble of the past
I thought I’d left behind.
He turned trash into treasure,
healing every hurt that He could find.
Thank you, Jesus, for cleaning up
the junk yard of my mind.”

All of this came from me, Jerry, wondering about an empty field surrounded by a tall fence. In my mind, however, I could see the junk that accumulates in our minds. I could see Jesus, sitting atop a huge forklift, picking up that junk and disposing of it.

You never know when you’ll come across circumstances that will prompt an expression from that inner you. Nearly three and a half years ago, I was coming back from a trip to California. There were several mishaps. I’d tripped and fallen in Wallace, Idaho. My knee was broken, although I didn’t know that for sure at the time. While driving through northwestern Missouri, Tonka’s rear end literally fell apart in the middle lane of the Interstate while we were running at 70 mph. I stopped to see our daughter, Kathleen, and her husband, Steve in Ringgold, Georgia. Tonka and I limped into Atlanta. I was weary. I’d driven 2,400 miles at that point with a broken knee. I was in constant pain. One wouldn’t think that these circumstances would produce a song.

I intended to see our son, Mark, and his wife, Beth. Just couldn’t do more than arrange a quick lunch with Mark. Mark and I met at Kenny Roger’s Roasters at Exit 11 on Georgia 400. While sitting at one of the outdoor tables, Mark and I talked about current popular phrases in the office place. Words began flowing through my mind. Before long, a catchy melody started sneaking past my lips. The result was a song I called “Been There, Done That”.

The first two verses talk about the various sad scenarios that seem to dot the past lives of those without Jesus. They talk about traveling down lonely, sin-filled roads. They talk about waking up every morning in pain and misery. They talk about wanting to change, but not having a clue about how to change.

After two verses describing a sad past, the first chorus says:

“Been there, done that, ain’t gonna do it anymore.
Been there, done that, ain’t gonna do it anymore.”

The last two verses describe the aftermath of meeting and accepting Jesus — joining His family and serving Him.

After two verses describing a cataclysmic change, the second chorus says:

“I am there, doin’ that, gonna do it more and more.
“I am there, doin’ that, gonna do it more and more.”

Pretty often, words, phrases, and strange little melodies creep through my mind. Sometimes I only write a chorus. Other times I end up with more verses than a song ought to be allowed to have. I always have a micro-cassette recorder close at hand for those little flashes of inspiration. It’s important to capture words and melodies immediately. We can’t depend on memory alone. By morning, we’ve often allowed that little flash to leak out.

I don’t make any claim to being a songwriter. I do like writing songs. What’s the difference? Well, a songwriter generally gets paid for writing songs. I don’t get paid, although I’m certainly not opposed to being paid someday!

What’s the Life Lesson in all of this?

• I believe EVERYBODY has at least one song inside them. (I also believe that each of us has at least one drawing, painting, poem, award-winning photograph, short story, bird feeder or bird house, doll or doll house, idea for a new variety of roses or orchids, etc. inside, too.)
• Sadly, most of us leave this life with all those bits of creativity still locked inside. Grandma Moses didn’t start painting until she was quite elderly. I know a man who started taking piano lessons at the age of 72.
• The best songs result from life experiences, happy or sad.
• Have you considered letting your insides gain expression through a song?
• If you only have the words, get someone to help you pull a melody together.
• Share your song with someone.

You just might surprise yourself. Don’t let yourself off the hook with some measly excuse. If you’ve got a song inside, let it out!

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