I'm up for Best Stretch Marks.

So last night was the Dove Awards. Yawn. It's exhausting being me.

Actually I went as a proud wife on the arm of one incredibly handsome Attorney General. Seriously, you should have seen him. Oh, mamma. I was proud as a peacock to be with him. And I wasn't looking at all shabby myself if I'm allowed to say that (which I know I'm not so I figure my mom will be calling me any minute now to say that's tacky.)

So we're on our way to the Grand Ole Opry last night when the AG asks me to open up the envelope they gave him - when he went and picked up our tickets - and pull out the parking pass. Apparently it would tell us where to park be it one, two or 18 miles away. (Considering the heels I was in I was praying we got to park in Minnie Pearl's old spot but figured that on this night that was given probably given to the Gaithers.) So when I pull our "parking pass" out I notice that it's a sheet you put in your dashboard and it says "DOVE NOMINEE VALET PARKING". Huh? Did someone forget to tell me something??

Thank you God, I'm wearing my Spanx.

So after pulling in beside the Crabb brothers and Christy Nockels I was walking pretty tall. (Of course not tall enough to bypass the pretzels they were selling at concessions. You can take the girl out of Southern Gospel but you can't take the southern gospel....oh, you get the point.)

We walk in to the pre-show section of our evening and the usher looks at our tickets and says, "Oh, you've got the good seats." She then proceeds to walk us down to the THIRD ROW center!! Yes, that's right my lovelies, directly behind Natalie Grant, directly in front of Sandi Patti and just a few down from someone named Jeremy Camp. What is going on here? Attorney?? General?? What do you know that I don't??

Sweet Lord, thank you for inventing Spanx.

Now I'm not gonna lie. In fact, I started this blog in order to create a forum of complete and utter honesty. So here goes...

I THINK I SHOULD PROBABLY BE ON THAT THIRD ROW, CENTER!

I thought my hair looked really good.
And my husband is a dream boat.
My dress finally fit me after months of hanging in my closet.
My Spanx were cutting off circulation in all the right places.
And I had gotten all the pretzel out of my teeth moments before.
I've written 87 songs in my journals over the years that I, personally, think are award winning. And my dad tells me I "sing better than anyone in the whole wide world." (His words,honest.)
I might still not be able to turn a cartwheel or go under water without holding my nose, but dadgum it, I'm funny!!

Isn't that enough to get a girl some third row face time?

By alas, it would never be. I chickened out and ended up trading our tickets with one of my husbands artists', who actually was nominated for a Dove Award and was sitting 11 rows back. The AG felt it was the right thing to do. I agreed.

Sort of.

So no, you won't see my face on TV if you watch them. And no, you won't see me fake laughing at Mark Lowry or trying to touch Natalie Grant's hair to see how she gets it to look like that. You won't catch me hob-nobbing with TobyMac or looking strangely terrified at David Crowder.
But you could have! If I were not such a sweet submissive wife. (There has to be some huge crown up there for that, right Lord?)

So I sat eleven or so rows back and had a great time. Ended up directly behind our friends Travis and Angela Cottrell so I got to trade remarks with them all night, which is always fun.

And you know what else? I got to eat M&M's. Which would not have been possible had I been third row, center. So see? God works it all out for good. His crunchy, chocolaty, melts-in-your mouth-but-not-in-your-hands, goodness.