Tonight, I don rented white tie and tails and try to take the place of Billy Crystal as host of the 2nd Annual Isaiah House/Women of Vision Oscar Night. (I am still working on my opening monologue, by the way, and am hurting for material, so please send me any jokes you think might be appropriate.) The goal of this event, of course, to proclaim every woman there, an Oscar winner.

It’s something that should happen to everyone, everywhere – a chance to celebrate life wherever you are in it and whatever it has brought you. Our independent panel of judges got together and voted the women in the room as the most awesome in the world. They won hands down. They all won the nomination and the Oscar. It’s a night Isaiah House sweeps the ticket. Every woman takes everything home.

Most awards nights are for the pretty people, the popular people, and the people popular culture recognizes as the ones who make us laugh, cry and wish we were them. All well and good, except those judges never met these women.

And we anticipate, as happened last year, that the highlight of the evening will be their acceptance speeches. Last year, we expected maybe a few of them would get up and say something and we were overwhelmed that, with the exception of maybe one or two, everyone wanted to speak. Some were humorous, thanking their “producers” and “publicists,” and others were deeply heartfelt and close to tears. But they were all overwhelmed and rose to the occasion to receive their “awards” with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I guess we shouldn’t have been so surprised. It’s what happens when you genuinely honor people and go to the trouble of making sure they know you appreciate them.

These are not awards for accomplishments (we resisted the temptation of making up fictitious categories) and for that reason, each will be announced simply with: “And the winner is…” There is no need for anything more. No need to know what has brought them to this place. No need to know of the addictions, the handicaps, the beatings, the incarcerations, the lost children, the failed marriages, the pain, poverty and suffering that we know has gone on here. No… not tonight.

Tonight we celebrate the beauty of each being. I will hopefully crack some jokes, but this will be no joke. As they anticipate the red carpet, they will select a shawl or a feathered boa or beads or gloves that have been donated for this event. It will be a mock celebration, but I have seen this before and I know these women will not be mocked. They will play the game but only so far, because they need the reality of what the game represents. They desperately need a chance to be honored for who they are, not for what they have done. And they will be. This is, in some ways, more sincere than the real Oscars. This night celebrates what we know is a God-given reality – the beauty and worth of each one of these lives.

Come on, admit it: don’t you want one of these awards? You have it coming to you. Who knows… maybe we’ve started something here.