I spent a good portion of the morning working on the melody for a new song. Deciding that I needed a break, I threw my golf clubs in the car and headed to the Highlands golf course in beautiful Bella Vista, Arkansas. This is a course that, I had been cautioned, is not for amateurs, but ignoring my 32.5 handicap—if you are a non-golfer, that’s abysmal—I ventured forth.
I was paired with Caleb and Dorian, two men in their thirties who announced they would be playing from the yellow tees. I play from the reds, sometimes referred to as the ladies’ tees, but that is sexist and demeaning, so they are henceforth and forever more the senior’s tees. Both of my playing partners announced that it had been quite a while since they played, so I shouldn’t have expected much from them.
Both hit drives that I only wish I had the power to hit. They both wished the course designer hadn’t put trees where their shots landed. By the end of nine holes, they had lost at least ten golf balls between them. I lost two.
As usual, my first drive landed smack in the middle of the fairway about 130 yards out. It took two more shots to reach the green, where I two-putt for a 5. That was one of three fives I had on the first nine. I didn’t have enough fingers to count my score on most of the other holes. Let’s just say, “I shot fifty-fiveish to the turn…make that sixtyish”
At the turn, Caleb and Dorian decided they were going to stop for a sandwich. Continuing a ministry my Bonnie started, I make it a habit to offer an olive wood cross from Israel to men I play golf with for the first time. But I just wasn’t in the mood. Then that soft voice in the back of my head told me, “Give them a cross.”
That’s when the bargaining began. “I don’t think they’d want one,” the other voice inside my head offered. “Besides they have already headed to the restaurant. I’m not going to chase them.”
“Caleb was Joshua’s sidekick when Moses sent the search party into the promised land, the soft voice offered.”
“Yes, but the other one is named Dorian, I responded. The Portrait of Dorian Gray makes me feel old.”
“You are old,” the other voice reminded me.
As I made the turn to the next tee, I went the wrong way and happened upon Caleb who was parking his golf cart. “I have something I like to share with my playing partners when I play a round without swearing, especially when I play as poorly as I played today.”
“Oh! There was plenty of swearing,” Caleb said.
“No, I mean when I don’t swear.“ I handed him a cross and a cross for Dorian, “This is a reminder that God loves you, even when the golf course doesn’t.”
He seemed pleased to receive the gift. I proceeded to the next tee, hit a shot off into the woods, followed by a near-perfect mulligan drive to the center of the fairway about 150 yards out. Not sure of the distance to the green, I reached for my phone which has a distance finder app. “
Oh, God,” I muttered. “I must have dropped my phone somewhere on the course.
I returned to the cart shack and asked if anyone had turned in my phone. The foursome that followed us had already checked in and had not reported finding a phone. “I’m going to see if I can find it,” I announced, as I sped away.
My search took me to all the locations I could remember stopping to take a wack at another shot. I had narrowed my search to the last three holes played, but moved on to the next hole, just in case.
That voice in my head that always brings up the negative side of any situation reminded me how much trouble it would be to replace my phone. My phone had become my surrogate brain. Everything I need to know is in my phone: names, phone numbers, email addresses, birthdays, doctor appointments. I am brain-dead without my phone.
Suddenly, an unusual peace came over me. “This is just an inconvenience; it will all work out.” Moments later, I saw the starter driving up in a golf cart, waving to get my attention. “Someone brought in your phone ten minutes after you left to search,” he shouted. They have it back at the pro shop.”
As I started back toward the pro shop, a wave of thankfulness washed through me. Tears started to flow. After offering a prayer of thanks, laughing, I spoke to that soft voice inside my head, as I explained to myself what happened, “You were testing my obedience, weren’t you?”
That soft voice, possibly the Holy Spirit, had nothing more to say.
Below are the lyrics to the song I was working on this morning: I may have to substitute the word “golf” for “Church” in the final version. You can choose whatever words apply to your situation.
If Only I Could Serve the Lord
“If only I could serve the Lord,” I heard a Christian say,
“I’d build a church or feed the poor, but life gets in the way.
My home, my work, yes even church can keep me occupied,
and I forget to serve the one who on that cruel cross died.
Forgive me, Lord, for putting you in distant second place,
. when you gave all to rescue me through your amazing grace.
Lord, help me show my thankfulness for all the gifts you give,
and show the world that you’re my Lord by how I choose to live.
The God of Hope brings joy and peace to those who trust in Him.
He saved us from our fallen state and washed away our sins
To live and love and serve like Christ, a vision we now claim.
Let everything, we do today bring honor to God’s name.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13
Because He Loves Us Press 