What are you listening to?

I loved my college experience.

My poor kids are so sick of hearing about it. They know all the characters, all the stories, the cigars, the sweet tea, the intramurals, the sorority parties, the roadtrips, the Papa John’s deliveries at 2 AM. It was easily one of the best times of my life and I jealously want my kids to enjoy their college years as much as I did.

I went to school at Samford University in Birmingham, Alabama which was a solid 8 hours away from my hometown of Ocala, Florida. It was exactly 500 miles from my parents’ gate to the Samford gate. And I got very familiar with I-75 and I-20.

And luckily, I almost never made the trip alone. I had two friends also from Ocala and one from Jacksonville. So whenever it was time to head home for summer, Christmas break, etc. we would caravan.

This was in the late 90s, so phones hadn’t really made it on the scene. There were CARphones, which I had. But if we were gonna stay together, we needed to communicate. So we used CBs. It was so cool.

Jeff, our Eagle Scout and big brother to all, was always in front. He was always quick to alert us to something in the road, remind us which exit we were taking or complain because we had to stop to go to the bathroom AGAIN.

Becky and I were in the middle somewhere, following Jeff and chatting back and forth about… gosh, anything. And Chris always brought up the rear in his Jeep. He was on his own program but would humor us just enough to make sure we all stayed together.

It was a long trip and we didn’t talk nonstop. But after just enough silence, Becky would call out to me, “Hey, what are you listening to back there?”

She knew my music was on. Often she could guess what I was listening to, given my tendency to get on jags with certain songs or artists. But it was comforting having someone to check in every once in a while.

One of the benefits of living in Orlando is that EVERYBODY comes down here for SOMEthing. A conference for work, a vacation at Disney, etc. Becky was in town with her family a couple years ago and stopped by for a cookout. It was weird watching our kids play together in the pool and listening to our husbands talk. Like we were grownups or something.

But I often think about her when I’m on a long road trip. And I think about her question:

What are you listening to back there?

As friends, fellow travelers on the journey, it’s a question we should be asking each other and ourselves regularly.

I think on some level, we all know that we BECOME our input. But for the most part, we probably pay more attention to what we put in our stomachs than what we put into our brains.

We can remind ourselves that everyone has a slant or an agenda all we want but what news station we tune in to can still determine how we see the world.

We can tell ourselves that the romance novel we’re reading is fiction but the words on the page can affect what we expect in our reality.

We can know that the scary images in horror movies aren’t real but our brain still releases the chemicals associated with fear, stress and survival.

So what are you listening to back there?

The mother who always made you feel not good enough.
The father who never told you he loved you.
The bullies who mercilessly tormented you for how you looked.
The mean girls whose voices still ring in your head about what you’re wearing.
The beauty magazines which are actually fiction disguised as fact.
The neighbor or friend who is always getting new cars.
The colleague who has climbed the ladder faster.
The other moms at your kids’ school who seem to have it all together.

Or worst of all:

Are you listening to what seem to be your OWN ‘truths’?

I’m too old to do anything of significance.
It’s too late.
Rejection will kill me.
My best days are behind me.
Why did I eat that when I’m (forever) trying to lose weight?
I’ve got so many issues, I could never have a healthy relationship.
If I take this risk and fail, I’ll never live it down.
Things just don’t work out for me.
No one could come back from this.

If you’re listening to this song on repeat, your life will become a self-fulfilling prophecy. And before you know it, you are stuck in victim mode, unable to see any other possibilities for yourself.

I worked in student ministry in Ocala back in my 20s. The youth pastor I worked under was a tatted-up former drug addict who was madly in love with Jesus and could (and still can!) preach the paint off the wall.

I know that he loved rock music as much as the next guy and he would never be one to be playing the Christian radio station in his car. But one day, he said something to the kids I’ll never forget. It was an off-the-cuff comment that he probably would never remember:

“Go for a week listening to nothing but praise music and see what happens. I dare ya.”

The look in his eyes told me he was speaking from experience. I tried to imagine what that week looked like in his life, whenever it was. And then I tried to imagine what it would look like in mine.

I love all different kinds of music and not all of it is ‘safe for the little ears in the backseat.’

I easily captivated by stories being told in movies, but I know there are more than a few I’ve indulged in that a follower of Christ has no business watching.

Apparently, I AM a grownup now. There’s no one to filter what I’m being exposed to and there’s no one making sure I’m not being negatively influenced by my sources of entertainment and information.

You can’t unsee or unhear or unread things. Experiences can never be undone and all day we’re being pushed and pulled toward and away from Jesus by our choices. Our inputs are determining who we become.

Relationships count too, maybe most of all. I’ve heard that if you want to know who you are, look at the five people you spend the most time with and it’s some combination of them.

Sarcasm is contagious.
Fear is contagious.
Racism is contagious.
Blame is contagious.
Divorce is contagious.Profanity is contagious.
Addictions are contagious.
The victim complex is contagious.

What are you listening to back there?

No, seriously. Take a few minutes and think about your inputs. What is your brain exposed to on any given day? It all counts. It all goes somewhere. Even things we can’t remember can wreak havoc on our weary minds. How are these things affecting your mood, your relationships, your attitude, your LIFE?

It’s worth asking. I know I’ve had to take a hard look at some of my inputs and walk away from certain TV shows that were normalizing behavior I don’t agree with, desensitizing me to right and wrong.

I was flipping through channels the other day (something I almost never do) and a graphic scene grabbed my attention. For the next 30 minutes, I was terrorized by the second half a brilliantly-written psychological thriller. I watched my worst nightmares played out on the TV in my safe little living room and my body reacted as if all of those things were really happening.

Cold chills ran through my arms and legs. My stomach ached with anxiety. And when it was over, I couldn’t be alone. Beau was the only one home so I plopped down next to him on the couch in his room and watched him play video games.

He glanced over at me quickly, then turned his eyes back to the screen. “Uh… hey.”

“Hey,” I sighed. “I just watched a stupid scary movie and those pictures are burned into my brain and I think I’m gonna throw up and I don’t want to be by myself.”

He chuckled, knowing my low threshold for scary movies. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t KNOW,” I moaned, covering my eyes. “I wish I could take it back.”

And I still do. But I can’t. I saw what I saw. And I felt what I felt. And as someone who is already being treated for anxiety and depression in her REAL LIFE, I had no business putting my brain through that, no matter how morbid my curiosity.

It reminded me yet again that I must be intentional and CHOOSE my inputs all day long. Not to be legalistic, but just aware. And if I’m stupid enough to choose garbage, let me choose it rather than stumble upon it and get sucked into it.

So after proving once again that I am in no position to judge, let me ask you, as a friend on this roadtrip:

What are you listening to back there?