And the Winner Is...

Thank God that we are at the end of the awards season in Hollywood!
 
Speaking of gratitude, if you watched an awards show recently, you’d believe we live in a grateful society, because anyone that ever wins anything thanks God for it.
 
There’s something weird about an actor or director expressing thanks to their Creator for a film that takes His name in vain more than an inebriated Marine. And it would be nice if the flavor-of-the-month nominee would put on slightly more clothing than it would take to cover the Oscar statuette before she thanks God for her “artistic endeavor.”  
 
However, for me the Oscars are actually more bearable than the Grammy Awards. I know most of my issues with the Grammys stem from the fact that I’m not “with it” any more. If the song is not "Mr. Roboto," anything off of the Thriller album, or something from a current children’s soundtrack – chances are you’re not gonna hear it thumping the back glass in the old Kia minivan. I’ve usually never even heard nine out of ten songs that are nominated. But my biggest problem with these acceptance speeches is that I can’t understand half of them.
 
Rappers are the worst: “Yo, yo, yo. Players in the house say yeah!” And then they start thanking the alphabet – “Yo, I want to thank G, T, X, PG-13 and the miggedy-mac!” I’m thinking “Huh? Just hurry up and thank God so we can move on!” I guess having a gold tooth inadvertently affects your ability to communicate with “peeps” from the 80’s like myself.
 
But when it comes to expressing gratitude, the winners by far are the athletes. It’s rather funny after a boxing brawl to hear, “Uhh, I just want to thank God for helping me beat this boy senseless. I want to thank God for the capability to hit a man so hard that he forgets where his house is. And I especially want to thank God for the $4.8 million that I made in the last 7 minutes.”
 
Anyone can thank God for anything they want to, I suppose. But in the realm of celebrity glitz and glamour, I don’t think the God of the universe really needs a “shout-out from his homeys.” And although He may be proud of some of these award winners, surely God is just as excited when my 7-year old figures out how to ride his bike, or when my 4-year old finally says “excuse me” when he burps.
 
Whatever the award or accolade, all of our accomplishments are flawed at best. When it comes to offering up something to God, sometimes I feel like I’m all dressed up in my Sunday best, unaware that there’s still some jelly on the corner of my mouth from breakfast. Thanks be to Him for His grace – and that we don’t have to do anything or win anything to earn His love.
 
Now that’s something to be grateful for.

Carey Dyer is a hubby, daddy, and entertainer (in that order) who makes his home in the beautiful hill country of Texas. When he's not singing, going to Wal-Mart three times a day or watching Andy Griffith reruns, he enjoys backyard adventures with his two pirates, ages 10 and 4.