I grew up in a somewhat strict Christian home. My father and grandfather were deacons, both grandmothers were active in their respective churches, and my mother sang solos in the choir on a regular basis. There were some strict rules I had to adhere to, but Im thankful my parents allowed me to hear and enjoy many types of music. I grew up on the songs of the Hawkins, Winans, and Clark Sisters...but there was also Motown, Lena Horne, Sarah Vaughn, and Patti LaBelle.
I remember being over my godmothers house, standing on the heat vent beside one of my older godsisters while the other godsister directed as if we were in a church choir. My grandmother (on my dads side) would tell me to stand on her coffee table, put a broom in my hand and say "Sing for Nana". I almost caused my father to wreck while riding in the backseat of the car and being so overwhelmed by a particular "guitar riff" and the vocalist echoing the riff that I began to cry uncontrollably. I remember the look on Mr Shepherds face in 2nd grade when he asked us to sing a simple line and my "vibrato" was discovered. "Why Kelli Kinney...you are the 1st 2nd grader Ive ever heard sing with perfect pitch and vibrato. You're going to be a star." After school, I'd come home and sit down in front of the record player listening to Whitney Houston over and over and over. I had no idea just who I was "saving all my love for" or why I'd wanna "the feel the heat " with anybody, but...it didnt matter what she sang...it was the VOICE of Whitney Houston that rang in my ears, and brought me to tears.
I remember going off to college and singing for the first time at the 1st church I attended in Columbus "Church of Christ" better known as Brettnell. A sister (whose name I cannot recall for anything) grabbed me as I was walking in the sanctuary and said "Baby...you gon be a STAR...a GOSPEL star." Prophecy after Prophecy. Word after word. Sometimes it was almost too much pressure. I didnt have the riffs and runs of the Clark Sisters or the squalls of a Pace Sister or Vanessa Bell. My voice has always been rather plain, and darkly painted...creating the illusion of a dull midnight blue with an occasional sparkle shining through. My best friend would get so angry with me for singing at weddings for free and finally took over my "booking". A woman requested that I sing at her daughters wedding once and told my best friend, "Her voice is amazing. Id rather listen to her than Whitney Houston". My best friend replied..."Then how much would you pay Whitney Houston to sing at your wedding?" That was my 1st paid wedding. $1000 for 1 song.
Having a gift became a burden at times. When dating I just wanted guys to like me for me. Tomgirlish and all. But I found myself falling for the "preacher type" who often wanted to be with me, and whispered things in my ear like..."I dream of you singing before I preach and ushering in the presence of the Lord. " All I was worth to them...was my voice.
Some pastors (please dont speculate and read into this) saw me as a gold mine. I remember leading praise and worship for an HOUR once..plowing through cold, tough, defiant spirits..only for the pastor to come in and preach with ease and pay me $100 afterwards, which would bounce in my account almost weekly.
By the time I was 25...I felt used up. All tuckered out. Vintage. Like something that was once of good value but now tarnished and resembling something that once was.
At a conference I sang regularly at; I'd been leading worship for 3 days and nights straight and I was exhausted. Just before the prophet came in and to the podium the spirit of worship had rested in the room and the worship team began to sing. My voice was gone, but I stood at my mic anyways and mouthed the words. As the prophet began to preach he called me out and said..."You...you're the one God wants to use. You're the one destined for nations. Destined to change the world and sing before kings and queens. You're the one the demons are scared of. " I remember crying almost hysterically and the people began to rejoice and applaud. The prophet interrupted them and said, "If you only knew how much her voice costs her. All that she will have will not be because of the gift, but because of how much she'll have been through ...and she'll still be standing. "
As I watched the interview Oprah did with Whitney Houston today...those words that were once spoken to me rang out in my mind.
For years I've known this truth....fame is a deceiver. Fame is like an identity...a costume that you wear for the people. Clothed in your talent, robed in your anointing. People tell you they love you and theyve got your back. but the day you fall...the day you feel like giving up....the day you cant be their savior....they walk out on you.
I am no Whitney Houston. Not even close. But as she was speaking today I felt the weight of it all. It is a longing fulfilled to be able to be yourself with someone. It is as equally a tragedy when you are expected to subdue who you are, in order to receive that acceptance.
But I have surrounded myself with true friends that love me far deeper than my talent. I can laugh with them. mess up. be honest with them. and at the end of the day...no matter how normal i am...they still understand and respect the calling of God in my life.
I will not lie to you. I dont have that drive, that uummmph that some people do to go after "destiny" per say. When you catch a glimpse of your future at times, and you understand the weight and responsibility that comes with it...you take pre caution. I have a family. I have friends. I have a life...that I do not want to be destroyed because of "fame". Ive been abused by so called "mentors" and seen examples of exactly what I SHOULDNT do with the spotlight. I love too hard to be willing to mentor someone else and watch them fall or have a broken heart because of my ill choices.
In the kingdom...I cannot just sing because I can. If its not effective...if a seed has not been planted...if a chain has not been broken...if a heart has not been mended....if God has not been pleased....then my gift has no purpose. I am not willing to accept the accolades of men while causing a stinch in the nostrils of a Holy God.
Today my heart went out to Whitney. And Tonex. And Michael who has already gone.
For at one point some of the same people who built them up...sat on the the front row of their lives and watched intently as the fell down.
Baby...you want fame? Fame costs. And right here is where you start paying in sweat. ~Debbie Allen
Unfortunately...some pay with their lives
