WHEN YOU DON'T WIN A GRAMMY, ACM , EMMY, GOLDEN GLOBE, BUT YOU MIGHT WIN A CRITICS CHOICE AWARD

Let's face it. I don't normally win accolades. I'm not famous for the many awards I've won.

I have never even been nominated for an award the likes of a Grammy. Nominated? Did I say nominated? Gracious me, I've never even been asked to sing anywhere besides church (and now that I think of it, not even there in a very long time...hmmm).

Except thinking back, by the way I sang my babies to sleep, I may have been nominated for a People's Choice Award if they could have been on that committee. And my dance moves while I sing along with Keith Urban to "Fighter" should earn this 52 year old music dancing fool an American Dance Award, even if my husband says so himself. 

I'm realizing that I might just have more in common with Faith Hill, well besides my obvious golden locks and great voice (choke).  I hear tell her three girls didn't realize how many prestigious awards their parents had won. Looking back into my closet of awards, mine may not be on such grand display either.    

Yet, it's a slow subtle smile that slings itself across my heart when I stare back in time and dust off the memories of those award winning moments. 

Reading the labels on my awards, they certainly were given for the lesser known categories:  

If you sit down and listen to the stories, you'd know I can make a room laugh just from laughing at my own jokes.  That's pure genius.   

I can settle a trio of kids at night (and throughout my life an entire classroom) with my voice as it makes words on the page come alive. 

I can make sense out of the storyline our lives are taking in a two hour or less phone call. 

I can bring peace and comfort to your heart because there's nothing mine would rather do. (For my grandkids, it's sometimes just a needed hold, hug, or booboo kiss.)

I can create a moment in time or painting on a page of words. I can help you do it, too, even though you didn't believe you could until we talked it out.

I can read your body language and your lips, but not your mind.  But I earnestly want to know and understand what's in it more than all that weather talk.

I can create a masterpiece salad for dinner that makes the stress of a long day seem to slide away.

I can hold my hands up in prayer for you as long as you need because I also have an army of warrior friends I'll text who will hold you, too.  

I can find the beach and walk with you to stop the anxious life from stirring too long. 

I can't paint it, act it, or write a song about it (well except that one called "Country Song" I wrote for my husband), but I have captured a lifetime of awe deep in my heart at the beauty I see in people, places, and moments.

At my acceptance speech for these awards (of which there is a blue carpet because I look better standing on that color), I  feel like I will mimic many of the other acceptance speakers that I've heard throughout the years. They felt humbled by the family, friends, opportunities, and experiences life presented them. They didn't feel they were exceptional among men or women, but for that moment they were revered as such.  

So, when in great company at my award show (That's the Average Joe Awards among which you are one of the nominees),  I'll bow and mimic at my acceptance speech, "It's just an honor to even be nominated." 

At this point in my speech, I expect there could be audience eye rolls. We have lived long enough to know there will always be critics who will wonder how in the world any performance of mine or yours is deserving of the slightest award. But who really is the critic here and whose choice is it to give an award?

So, my speech will end with acknowledgments to my family and the friends I've journeyed life with who supported me to this point, it really is an honor. 

IT REALLY IS AN HONOR AND A PLEASURE TO DO LIFE WITH YOU. I SHARE THIS AWARD WITH YOU BECAUSE YOU DESERVE THIS AWARD,TOO, FOR ALL YOU ARE AND ALL YOU DO! 

CHEERS TO US!