http://chelseacline.blogspot.com

It’s nothing personal.

I’m having a hard time believing this is all coming true…
someone pinch me.

“I think I can’t, I think I can’t – but I think You can, I think You can…”

It’s been a long road up to this point, but now it’s coming down to the wire.
It’s actually, finally, coming to an end.

First question was, “Did that really just happen?”and the second, “Can I do this forever?”

Any concert I had held near the Winchester, VA area I could expect to see Gibby, a handicapped twenty-something year old ‘boy,’ dancing in his wheel-chair in the front row with a teddy bear, rose, a huge smile and a kiss on the cheek waitin’ to be given to me, and as always, looking super fly in his Chelsea Cline t-shirt.

Getting to meet every mainstream artist and band I got to be the opening act for opened my eyes and made me realize who I wanted to be like, and who I didn’t want to be like when I “made it big.”

When I was about ten or eleven, my band got to play their own ‘show’ at a fundraiser and I got to play my own ‘show.’ We had different slot times, and the band wasn’t able to stay to play for mine, so I was forced to use karaoke tracks instead. I was obviously, thoroughly upset, but then Ron Reedy leaned over to me and whispered in my ear, “Just sing with all of your heart, Chelsea.”
It was then that I realized that nothing else, no not even karaoke tracks, could get in the way of singing true to my heart. Singing from the heart. I mean, really? What other kind of singing is there?

The last concert I had with Ron Reedy, my lead guitarist who passed away from cancer only months later, was one I will never forget. Two 45-minute sets with meet and greets in between, a couple hundred people dancing in the streets, smiles on their faces, sweaty, and just having an amazing time made me realize why it is I sing: for them.

My brother met his wife there that night, I was given my first guitar, and the live recording was sent to a producer in Nashville where my dreams were on their way to becoming a reality. Almost.

Nashville, in and of itself, was a dream. The Opryland mall equaled heaven to me, as did the Opryland hotel and Wild Horse Saloon’s cheesecake.

Oh yeah, and the studio.

Staying up all night at Stationwest recording an original album, drinking coffee, and hanging out with a Grammy award winning producer proved to be the most amazing thing I’ve ever been a part of. Even better was the moment we would blast the finished product through the mains at the crack of dawn after working all night long.

Yes, there were tears. Everytime.

Every benefit we played at, changed my heart, and opened my eyes all the more to how truly amazing people are and how powerful music is. To all the fighters of cancer and of Alzheimer’s disease, to all of precious lives that never got to take their first breath, to Big Brothers, Big Sisters, Stand for Children and our amazing troops who sacrifice their lives and life as they’ve always known it to be for our freedom — thank you. You have made me appreciate life much more than I ever would have had it not been for you.

A decade and a handful of crushed hopes, broken promises, and voided contracts later, it was then that I realized that all good things were coming to an end and ‘real life’ was inevitable to begin.

I realized that I had been living the dream all along. The journey itself, was a dream come true and it was all meant to happen, it was all leading up to a bigger plan. Bigger than I ever had for myself.

The journey I’m about to embark on this time around, although having to do with music, will have nothing to do with me.

A decade of chasing after dreams and four years of ‘real life’ under my belt, there is one thing that has remained throughout it all:
my heart.

Just the way He created it to be.

With a love for music, for people, and finally, above all else, a love that came to be for Him.

And that, well,
that changes everything.

I hope your pickin’ up what I’m throwin’ down. If not, refer to my previous post.

Lord, I’m going to manage what You’ve given me as best I can. You deserve Your time to shine through this gift, and I’m going to give it all I have to make sure You get more than a fair chance of doing just that this time around. These next few years are Yours and Yours alone, Father. May Your name be brought fame, may lives be truly blessed and changed; let there be a different kind of music in me this time around, Lord.

And now, in honor of my karaoke-singin’ country roots:

“There might be a lil’ dust on the bottle, but don’t let it fool ya, ‘bout what’s inside. There might be a ‘lil dust on the bottle, it’s just one of those thangs that gets sweeter with time.”

Some things never change.
Giddy up.

Disclaimer: All the above are subject to change accordingly to God’s plan

And now a little reassurance from the Lord…

“The Lord says, ‘I will guide you along the best pathway for your life. I will advise you and watch over you.’”
Ps. 32:8

“May He give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed.”
Ps. 20:4

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11

JOURNEY
1. to move from one place (or a season of life) to another.
2. difficult, rewarding and worth it all.
3. to rely on and experience God’s love throughout one’s lifetime.

It’s been three years. Please come out with your new album soon.
Much love and many thanks,

C

I’m sitting here at Martin’s and they just played one of my “favorite” songs – which I had totally forgotten all about until just now.

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, “then how was it ever really your favorite?”

Okay, so you might have a point, but in my defense, might I just point out the fact that my computer crashed this time last year, which caused me to have to completely build my entire music library up from scratch, which caused me to lose track of this song and ultimately, caused me to lose a lot of money (no, I’m not bitter – not at all).
This song makes me want to lock myself up in my room, curling iron in hand (I don’t own a hairbrush, it’s true) and sing (or, in this case scream) my heart out infront of my full-length mirror (why hello there, Narcissism! Thanks for making an appearance on my blog – you’re too kind, really…)

And yes, I know that some of you are going to HATE her voice, but I on the other hand, am not ashamed to admit that I love, love, love Brandi Carlile’s voice…

…well, love her or hate her, I hope you can appreciate her music, or at least this song.

The Story
Brandi Carlile

All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I’ve been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don’t mean anything
When you’ve got no one to tell them to
It’s true…I was made for you
I climbed across the mountain tops
Swam all across the ocean blue
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules
But baby I broke them all for you
Because even when I was flat broke
You made me feel like a million bucks
You do
I was made for you
You see the smile that’s on my mouth
It’s hiding the words that don’t come out
And all of my friends who think that I’m blessed
They don’t know my head is a mess
No, they don’t know who I really am
And they don’t know what
I’ve been through like you do
And I was made for you…
All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I’ve been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don’t mean anything
When you’ve got no one to tell them to
It’s true…I was made for you

After some long drawn out discussion about me being a “preacher,” which is false, but apparently since I’m going to a Christian college to study religion, my grandma has it engrained in her head that I’m going to be standing behind a pulpit someday (side note: she also gets my name wrong alot of the time), but after trying to break the news to them gently, we finally sit down for dinner. At one point, Aunt Nadine catches herself talking with her hands and suddenly stops and declares, “My fingers are crooked.”

And they were. They were really crooked.

“Arthritis,” says Aunt Dixie.

And then it hit me.

What happens when I get arthrits and can’t play guitar anymore?

And so it is, that this has been the most devastating realization I’ve yet come to face so far in my lifetime.

How pathetic is that?

…. or how not?