Bryan Corbin
Bryan and his wife Anita reside in Chillicothe, Ohio with their four children. He is a twelve year veteran of the U.S. Navy, whose primary motivation for writing is to find expression for the things he receives during times of prayer.
About Bryan
I’m the kind of person who has a hard time taking someone else’s word for things. To some that makes me rebellious, to others it makes me a skeptic and to some others it might even make me seem wise. To be honest, I’m sure that I’ve been all of those things and probably many more. At times this trait has caused me needless pain (e.g. do you really need to touch the stove to believe that it’s hot) and at other times it has helped me to avoid traps that I’ve seen many of my contemporaries fall into. Regardless of how one might view this particular aspect of my personality, it has everything to do with the way my faith was formed.
Though I was raised in a devoutly Catholic family, my belief system was somewhat stunted by the fact that I struggled to find my own identity. Because I didn’t see how or where I fit in this world, I struggled to find a “present tense” for God as well. I believed that there was a God, that He created me and that when I died, I’d come face to face with Him (which wasn’t something that I necessarily looked forward to). I believed the Jesus story and had a sincere reverence for the things connected to Him; but in my young mind, God was a world away (i.e. in heaven), Jesus had died 2000 years ago and as best as I could tell, I was on my own. Though I had the vague impulse to “be a good person”, that wasn’t enough to keep me from sampling the things the world had to offer.
At that time in my life, what the world seemed to be offering was sex, drugs and rock-n-roll, and to be honest I pretty much dove in with both feet. While I wouldn’t claim to have tasted every dish on the buffet, I did partake of enough of them to learn some valuable lessons. I learned that sex with people you don’t really know or care about can be exhilarating in the heat of the moment, but that it ultimately leaves you feeling empty emotionally and spiritually. From that I concluded that forbidden fruit is enticing only as long as it stays forbidden; and that once you’ve gone there, it almost instantly grows stale. My experience with controlled substances taught me that everything that goes up, must come down; and that the descent always seems more profound and sustained than the visit to the summit. And though I’d still claim some fondness for rock-n-roll, I found that no matter how loud I turned up the music, it couldn’t drown out the voices in my own head. While the rock-n-roll lifestyle can create the illusion of a party, I found that it is only those things that have the ability to penetrate our hearts that cause us to truly celebrate. I emerged from this season of wandering disappointed and convinced that there had to be more to life than what I’d experienced.
Despite my disillusionment with what the world had to offer, I wasn’t necessarily ready to embrace, what to me was still, an abstract God. Though I found myself more willing to explore the possibilities, I approached Him with the same skepticism that had become a hallmark of my life’s journey. I couldn’t just accept the Bible’s claim to be God’s word, because after all, if it was a counterfeit, it would undoubtedly make that same claim. To my way of thinking, if the Bible was really “God breathed”, then the truth that I found there ought to be transcendent and life changing. Unlike my experience with the world, I dipped my toe gingerly into the pool of divinity, with little expectation of being truly fulfilled.
Though I made the mistake of reading the entire Old Testament first, it was ultimately in the gospels and the epistles of the New Testament that I began to see the story of my own life unfold. Though much of it seemed counterintuitive, I recognized that I’d always felt more blessed when I gave than when I received; that I’d always reaped what I’d sown; that my attempts to gain my life had ultimately caused me to lose it; and that no matter how extravagant my house (i.e. life) may have looked on the exterior, without a firm foundation, it was destined to crumble at the first real storm. I also discovered that when Jesus departed 2000 years ago, He did not leave us as orphans, worshipping a historical God; but instead that He’d given us the gift of His Holy Spirit, so that He could always be in the “present tense” for those who believe. As I began to look at the world through new eyes, I began to see that God’s invisible qualities are plain to see within the things that He’s created and I began to recognize His character in some of the people that I knew. The more I focused on spiritual things (i.e. the unseen realm), the more the world (i.e. the seen realm) began to make sense to me. Though it took some time, I was eventually able to suspend my skepticism long enough to take Him literally when He said, “My sheep know my voice; they hear me and they follow”. Once I began to recognize His voice, I realized that He’d been speaking to me all along. I loved what I heard Him saying and I loved the way He said it.
What I’d found wasn’t a philosophy, or a ritual, or a mantra, or an alternative lifestyle, or a new vehicle to obtain my desires, or something to fill up my Sunday mornings. It was a real live person, who knew me better than I knew myself and who could make sense of a world, and a life, that I often found confusing. I found in Him a place where I could be myself and not be ashamed or feel out of place. In Him, I found a peace and a hope that I’d never experienced; and something within me knew that this was my destiny. In the years since then, I’ve learned to trust His voice, in a way that I could’ve trusted anything before. I don’t have to touch the stove anymore to figure out whether it’s really hot. I found that what sex, drugs and rock-n-roll had promised, could only be delivered by faith, hope and love.
There are some who might suppose that I’ve lost my mind to believe in such things, but at this point in my experience, it would take more faith than I could muster to believe in anything else. I believe that there is something inside of us that already knows how to be one with our Creator; because before we were in our mother’s womb, He knew us and I feel sure that on some level we also knew Him. The greatest breakthrough’s I’ve ever had in my relationship with God have always felt more like remembering something that I’d forgotten, than learning something that I’ve never known. I don’t think that our journey is really to a place we’ve never been before; I sense that it is ultimately a walk back to where we came from. 
When we get there, we’ll realize that it was Him all along. While I don’t pretend to have figured out all the mysteries of life and while I don’t have an answer for every skeptic’s question, I have come to know “Him” and because of who He is, I believe!
Click the book cover image to purchase an eBook copy of Bryan's Book “Along the King’s Highway - Stories from the Road Home”
Bryan's site: www.bryancorbin.com
Who Are You Looking At?
In the pre-dawn hours of the morning I find myself at the sink
Splashing water in my face
And as I catch a glimpse of the weathered visage in the mirror
I can’t help but wonder what it sees
*
Does it see a husband?
Or just a man who has a wife
*
Does it see a father?
Or just a man who has children
*
Does it see a man of genuine conviction?
Or just a man who is self righteous
*
Does it see a man of true character?
Or just a man with manners
*
Does it see a man who speaks the truth?
Or just a man who can be good with words
*
Does it see a “follower” of Jesus Christ?
Or just someone who has adhered to the “Christian” brand
*
Does it see a child of God?
Or just a man who holds religious beliefs
*
Does it see a man who is truly being transformed?
Or just a man who has cleaned up his act
*
Does it see a man that is filled with God’s own Spirit?
Or just a man who is filled with his own ideas
*
And as I stand
Struggling with who I may or may not be
The Lord plainly says
“You’re staring at the wrong face”
Beautiful Truth
If you come to me
I will try to tell you the truth
But I must warn you
My story is likely to change
*
You see, the things that I hold as true today
Aren’t necessarily the same as they were a year ago
And if I keep growing and learning
It follows that they will be different a year from now
*
It is not truth that is changing
It is my understanding of it
It is not my desire for honesty that is growing
It is my capacity for it
*
As a young man I thought I had a grasp on truth
But now I see that the truth is too big to hold in your hands
The human mind cannot fully wrap itself around truth
In fact, it is truth that wraps itself around our minds
*
The truth is like a mountain
Too thick to be penetrated
And too heavy to lift
Ultimately, all we can do is journey towards its shrouded summit
*
It is made of solid rock
And we can choose to build upon it
Or fall upon it
Or have it fall upon us
*
It is a foolish man who believes that the truth is somehow subject to him
Or moved by his disapproval
Who thinks that he might bend it by his will
Or outrun it in his strength
*
To some the truth is terrible
And to others it is beautiful
But regardless of our perceptions
Ultimately truth will prevail
A Friend to My Father
I was my parent’s problem child; which isn’t to imply that my brothers and sister were perfect. We all went through our rough periods, but I was the one who consistently struggled and routinely required a lot of parenting. To be sure, my low points reached far greater depths than I ever would have imagined and looking back, it’s a wonder that I wasn’t more permanently damaged by some of my woeful choices.
Those struggles were not a byproduct of passive or poor parenting; in fact, my parents were extremely proactive in raising all of us. I was just the kind of kid who desperately needed an abundance of support, guidance, accountability and ultimately strong boundaries; all of which my parents readily provided. I knew what was right and what was expected; unfortunately, I frequently chose to forge a different path. If folly is bound up in the heart of a child, I seemed to be born with a double portion to work through. Because of this, it was essential that one of the earliest revelations of my father was that of an authoritarian. Though he was loving and caring from the beginning, recognizing him as the ultimate authority was pivotal to my early development. Had I not been forced to adhere to some external standard, which I recognized as being greater than myself, it is likely that I would have continued to live out of the futility and chaos that has so often reigned within my own heart and mind. I guess another way to say it is that because my will had to yield to his will, I learned that my will (e.g. what I thought, what I felt, what I wanted…) was never the final word. Undoubtedly, few lessons in my life have been more valuable than that one.
Though I did eventually manage to become a fully functional adult, I also continued to make questionable choices in my life, which I believe kept my father’s paternal guard up. Though he treated me with the dignity and respect due a fellow adult, to some degree he still had to view me through the lens of his struggling child. Though I didn’t recognize that at the time, it became evident to me, when some years later, it changed. That change occurred when I was in my early thirties, and the life that I had carefully built crumbled before my eyes. As I cried out to God, my will finally began to genuinely yield to His and my life began to dramatically turn. As those changes took root in me, I noticed that it also changed how my earthly father related to me. He was more relaxed, less paternal and more like a friend. A few years later, when he became terminally ill, we had some amazingly frank conversations about God, life, death… where he spoke in an unguarded way; like you would with a trusted confidant. Though my father passed away shortly after my fortieth birthday, I will always treasure the moments of friendship that we shared in his final years. Though I was honored to be called his son, it somehow seems even more profound that he might also consider me his friend.
Ultimately, I believe this pattern of relationship reflects what God intends for His children as well. He says that fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. If we don’t begin by recognizing Him as the ultimate authority and greater than ourselves, we never yield our will to His. Though we may speak of Him highly and even claim to be His, we live life on our own terms, guided by our own ideas and going in the way that seems right to us (which the Bible says, “leads to death”). When Jesus first gathered the disciples, they related to Him as Rabbi, which was a position of great authority in Jewish culture. They called themselves His servants and referred to Him as “Master”. It wasn’t until the night before His death that Jesus bestowed upon them the title of “friends”.
Unfortunately, modern philosophies on parenting favor the idea that parents ought to relate to their children as friends over the more traditional authoritarian approach; but in practice this creates destructive and dysfunctional family relationships. Children raised in this manner remain self-centered, compulsive, demanding and disrespectful. As in so many other aspects, Western Christianity has mirrored the culture by frequently trying to introduce the heavenly Father as “friend”; but like the earthly counterpart, this does not produce a legitimate or functional family. If we do not first recognize Him as Lord and come through the cross of Christ, we have no incentive to die to ourselves and to live through Him. We might call Him good and look to Him for provision, but we live in our own strength and by our own sense of righteousness. Though I do believe that God ultimately wants to be able to relate to His children as friends, I also believe that this is a distinction that we must grow into over the course of time. As it was with my earthly father, I would be forever humbled to one day be counted a friend to my Father in heaven.
Runaway Bride
We say that we believe
Yet struggle in our doubt
We declare that we are free
Yet live as though we’re bound
We say that You are good
Yet blame You in our pain
We claim to be victorious
While stumbling in defeat
We say Your joy is our strength
Yet battle with depression
We call ourselves Your followers
While adhering to the whims of culture
We say that You’re the Comforter
Yet find ourselves beyond consolation
We consider ourselves Your army
Despite our inability to deploy the weapons You gave us
We say that we love You
Though our passions are invested in temporal things
We claim that You are with us
Yet struggle with feelings of abandonment
We say that You are truth
Yet also believe that truth is relative
We call ourselves Your Bride
Yet prostitute our souls in the marketplace
You said that people would know us by our love for each other
And by the fruit of our lives
And sadly
That is exactly how they know us
The Heart of a Man
Sometimes a man looks in the mirror
and doesn’t recognize the person he sees
Sometimes the hurt in a loved one’s face
makes a man feel like a failure
Sometimes a man speaks
and he hates the sound of his voice
Sometimes the only way a man knows how to express his fear
is through anger
Sometimes what a man cannot provide
is a source of humiliation
Sometimes a man tries to blaze his own path
and gets lost in the shadows of the trees
Sometimes a man invests his sense of worth in things
that ultimately make him feel bankrupt
Sometimes a man tries to carry the weight of the world
and it crushes him
Sometimes a man wonders if all of his effort
really makes any difference
Sometimes a man’s heart breaks
and it doesn’t make a sound
Sometimes a man needs to be reminded that he is only a child in the eyes of his Father
and that nothing depends on his perfection
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