We finally made it back to our little home in Flintstone, Georgia, after a train ride from Lyon to Paris, a transatlantic flight from Paris to Newark, NJ, a layover and then a flight to Boston, a weekend in Boston with the newlyweds and then a flight to Atlanta where we stayed with my father for a few days.

And awaiting me was a pile of mail and a package that contained my Carol Award that The Promised Land won in Contemporary Fiction back in September. As I savor this lovely award, here are a few thoughts straight from my author-heart to the Lord.

Yesterday I woke up to the wonderful news that The Promised Land had won the Carol Award in the Contemporary category. It was past midnight in France when the awards banquet was being held via Facebook Live and I didn’t stay up to watch because I truly, truly didn’t expect to win. So it was such a fun surprise, Lord, to wake up to this fun announcement. Thank you. I actually was giggling with pleasure.

To celebrate, my wonderful, spur-or-the-moment hubby joined me for crepes at our favorite little creperie down by the Saone River. We split a savory and a sweet crepe with a glass of sweet cider. And it was a perfect little celebration.

So simple and yet, really so extravagant, Lord. Celebrating a hard-won award in France, by the Saone River on an enchanting early fall day.

I was tickled and delighted, and yes, shocked, Lord. I won.

It’s been 25 years of longing to win an award for my writing, Lord. Only You know the full extent of that longing. And the disappointment. And of course, the other side of the coin—that you can’t win unless you enter (and you can’t lose either.)

So often I get mixed up in my reasoning, Lord. I want the honors without the hard work. Or that’s not exactly it. I put in hours and days and months and years of hard, hard work. But I don’t want the embarrassment of entering a contest and the heartache of being overlooked.

We writers are sensitive souls, often questioning if what we write is worth it. It’s safe to say, Lord, that all of my writer friends, along with me, wage this battle of comparison, of fear of bad reviews, of disappointment with low sales, and many other emotions that are a gut-punch to our self-worth.

I’ve fought the good fight—sometimes. And I’ve held on to You and trusted, most of the time. And yes, there have been tears and doubts, but there have also been great joy and delight. So many emotions spiral through a writer’s life.

You know it all, Lord. You have heard it all. For all these years.

So today, I just want to tell You that I am overjoyed in my heart and thankful beyond words for this recognition. You know I don’t take it for granted, Lord.

I have learned throughout the years that I don’t need awards or accolades for my self-worth as a writer. I need mostly to be checking in with You, day by day, as I sit in front of my computer screen, working hard and trusting hard that You will use my words to point others to Your Word. With my spirit in tune to Your Spirit if ever You ask me to stop writing.

Because You know I’ve asked You that question many times. So far, You’ve kept nudging me on in this writing life.

And there is one award, Lord, that I do want to win. It’s expressed so perfectly by the Apostle Paul in his epistle to the Philippians: “Brethren, I do not regard myself as having laid hold of it yet; but one thing I do. Forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward of the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3: 13-14

And by Your great love and grace, I know I will gain that prize! Merci!

ELIZABETH MUSSER writes ‘entertainment with a soul’ from her writing chalet—tool shed—outside Lyon, France. Find more about Elizabeth’s novels at www.elizabethmusser.com and on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and her blog.