In all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.
—Proverbs 3:6
It took Ronald, that constant voice of support for me and CeCe, some time before he was able to come down south and watch us sing on the PTL and witness the life that we had made for ourselves. When he finally did make the trip, I showed him around. I took him to a few of my favorite Pineville spots, and he sat in on a recording of the show and some of our performances. He joked with me and brought me some of the news from the family.
Visiting with him reminded me that, above all, I was still a Winans brother. Ronald didn’t care that we had spent our last few years away from the family. He knew that Mom and Dad had sent us down to Pineville so we could explore our dreams of singing. Sometimes you have to let go of people in order to give them what they need. And anyway, family was stronger than location. And family knows what we need better than anyone else, with the exception of the Lord. But I’ve found that the two work in tandem. The Lord will use one of my family members to tell me what I need to hear the most.
During Ronald’s Pineville visit, he was able to tell me what I needed to hear. During a quiet moment backstage before one of our performances, I took the time to share some of my troubles with him—about the tension and the competition. Ronald was wise, kind with a little bit of sarcasm, and, most important, honest with me.
He already knew that CeCe had made her mind up to leave PTL, and I decided if she left that I would leave too. But I was still worried about that decision. I was hesitant and wondered if I was making the right decision. With Ronald I could let the words spill out, no matter how raw or messy. I knew he would give me an honest answer. He knew we were not being ungrateful or foolhardy. Actually, Ronald wasn’t surprised at all. He took it in stride, just like he took everything else. I told him that we just hadn’t been able to tell the Bakkers yet. This didn’t surprise him either.
Ronald reminded me of the similar situation that my brothers had to deal with when Marvin was feeling the call to ministry and how it wasn’t easy for Marvin to tell the others that he’d have to leave the group for a while and go after this calling with all his heart, mind, and soul. He resonated with the way Marvin was feeling and how it took courage to tell the others. In time, they all understood. I could resonate with that, too. He didn’t want to hurt them, just like CeCe and I didn’t want to hurt the Bakkers.
Then Ronald gave me some real wisdom. He told me that both sides were going to struggle but that change was inevitable. With time comes understanding of God’s perfect plans for our future—plans we can’t see. I’m almost sure that Marvin also struggled with leaving; worrying how the brothers would feel. Maybe I was doing the same thing. I wanted to leave PTL, yes, but maybe I was just worried that I was going to fail out there in the big world. At the very least, PTL offered us a certain amount of comfort. We were known, and we had an audience for the foreseeable future. I needed more courage to finally cut ties with PTL.
I also confided in Ronald that I’d been writing some songs. Late into the night, after PTL recordings and rehearsals were over, I was scratching lyrics into one of my notebooks. But something was different. These songs didn’t sound anything like the Gospel music I’d grown up with, or even the newfangled Gospel songs I’d been singing with PTL. I was finally realizing that I wanted to have a career in music that wasn’t focused on traditional Gospel songs. I worried about the criticism and the pushback I’d face from our audience and maybe from my own family. People who had bought that first record by CeCe and me could be completely uninterested in BeBe if he wasn’t singing that old Gospel music.
Ronald cut through all my meandering words during this conversation. He looked me straight in the eyes and told me what I’d been afraid to admit to myself. The reason that I was wavering was that I wanted nothing short of stardom. I’d been told my whole life that pride was a terrible thing. I thought trying to become a celebrity would only feed my pride.
Ronald joked that I’d wanted everyone’s eyes on me since I was a little lad. I winced through this part of the conversation, but I was smiling too. I wanted to be big and successful and internationally known. Ronald knew it, CeCe knew it—maybe my parents even knew it! I was the last to admit it to myself. Ronald encouraged me to get comfortable with what I wanted. The rest of the Winanses knew who I was. And they were still going to cheer for me. I needed to start seeing my dreams in a different way—in a way that didn’t depict my ambition in such a negative light. I could envision myself in a spotlight for God’s glory, no matter what I was singing.