What do you do when your golf club leaves your hand and is flying over hundreds of people? Do you grab a 6 iron and pretend it's not yours? Do you yell, "Fore!" and just hope that everyone gets out of the way? Do you justify your inaction with thoughts like, "At baseball games, bats and balls find their way to the stands all the time, and people fight each other to get them. Isn't this the same thing? Wouldn't it be wrong for me to keep my club from being theirs?"
It was a warm, spring afternoon, and I was invited by my older brother and his friend to go to the driving range to hit some balls. Since this was my first time ever to hit a golf ball with a golf club, I was pretty excited. I had visions of being amazing, of reaching new distances that no one ever reached before. I imagined them naming the new distance after me. They might call it the "Josh Zone" or "Land of Josh." But to my dismay, the only tangible memory or imprint that I would be leaving that particular driving range with was an aura of fear, panic, and the need for everyone to wear helmets. There are probably still children waking up in the middle of the night with terror in their eyes and sweat running down their cheeks.
As I swung my arms back, the cool breeze began to hit my hair just right. It all was feeling so good. My attention was on the area just beyond the 500-yard mark. I could already see the lawn mowers and weed whackers working to clear out the needed space that was never found by a golf ball yet. And then just as the groundskeepers were about to nail down the sign for the new distance mark, it all went so wrong. The record scratched, and the raw reality spiraled down to the finish of my swing. After making contact with the ball (that I was told later only reached 50 yards on a roll) the club somehow slipped out my hands and started its ascent over an extremely crowded driving range.
It must have been National Golf Day or something, because every generation was out there. It's pretty sad when your club goes farther then the ball you hit, but it's true. It just kept flying...and flying...and rotating. Those poor people probably thought a helicopter was going to crash right on them. After a brief pause, I started running after it, right in front of every golfer teeing off. I was sheepishly yelling, "Watch out! Get out of the way! Heads up! Nooooooooo!" My feet felt heavy, like my kids were attached to each one - like I was swimming underwater. When I finally reached its landing pad, I noticed that no one was hitting golf balls. They all had changed the channel, and I was the station they tuned into. And by the look on their faces, they were riveted by what they had been watching. Embarrassed and panting like an out-of-shape dog from his first run, I couldn't believe where my club had ended up - right in the middle of a family with two strollers (I'm not kidding!), an angry mom, and a dad who was holding his two kids tighter than I had held my club. I gave a quick apology with little eye contact and ran the opposite way with my head down, back to where it all began. If I had a tail, I would have been sucking it like a Binky. My brother and his friend were dying, and so was I - in different ways of course.
I can't begin to explain what I was feeling the moment that club left my hands, as it was heading towards all those people. I really did think about leaving...sans club. But leaving would have been wrong on so many levels. Sometimes as I'm praying for those poor children and families that were affected by that horrific event, I think about moments of my life where I did leave the obvious solution on the course - moments where I left my club or my sin where I threw it.
It has become clear to me that I miss it most when no one's around to see what I'm going to do. At a public driving range filled with over 100 people, including those you came with, it's a pretty easy choice. But what about when you're in your living room, and it's just you, the TV, and the neighbor who's right outside that God's nudging you to talk to? Or when you lash out in anger at your child and squeeze them a little too tightly? Do you turn off the TV? Do you apologize to your child? Do you confess and repent, or do you continue and act like it wasn't sin? Do we need additional money in the budget for baby-sitting for us? Will we only obey if there are others who are watching over us, who can see what our reaction will be? Are we followers of Jesus only when others are following close behind?
Remember, it is sin to know what you ought to do and then not do it. James 4:17
The thing is, when we miss it, when we let the club fly, we can go pick it up again and make things right - we MUST, even. When we accept Jesus as Lord, we receive an unending supply of mulligans, and we are free to use them whenever we miss a birdie or land in a bunker. But we can't go on like we didn't do anything wrong, like we didn't hear His voice. When we do, it's just as bad as changing the scorecard. You see, part of changing and reacting the right way can only happen as we do the hard work of dealing with our sin - of calling it what it is. We need to know and believe that not doing what God is whispering in our ears is just as bad - just as hurtful to God and to ourselves - as breaking one of the Ten Commandments. Yes, there are different consequences to different sins, but all sin is sin. All sin is a trap. All sin holds us back in bondage. All sin keeps us from being truly free.
I believe our true selves are revealed by the choices and decisions we make when no one else is looking. Maybe it's our failure to do what we know we should do on a daily basis that keeps us stuck where we are. We keep taking the bait, and the prison door keeps shutting behind us.
May we see all sin for what it really is - a sand trap.
May we choose to pick up our clubs, to deal with our miss - hits and slices - and tee off again, allowing God to direct and guide our next swing.
May we follow God all the time, under all circumstances, not just when we're amongst a crowded driving range.
It was a warm, spring afternoon, and I was invited by my older brother and his friend to go to the driving range to hit some balls. Since this was my first time ever to hit a golf ball with a golf club, I was pretty excited. I had visions of being amazing, of reaching new distances that no one ever reached before. I imagined them naming the new distance after me. They might call it the "Josh Zone" or "Land of Josh." But to my dismay, the only tangible memory or imprint that I would be leaving that particular driving range with was an aura of fear, panic, and the need for everyone to wear helmets. There are probably still children waking up in the middle of the night with terror in their eyes and sweat running down their cheeks.
As I swung my arms back, the cool breeze began to hit my hair just right. It all was feeling so good. My attention was on the area just beyond the 500-yard mark. I could already see the lawn mowers and weed whackers working to clear out the needed space that was never found by a golf ball yet. And then just as the groundskeepers were about to nail down the sign for the new distance mark, it all went so wrong. The record scratched, and the raw reality spiraled down to the finish of my swing. After making contact with the ball (that I was told later only reached 50 yards on a roll) the club somehow slipped out my hands and started its ascent over an extremely crowded driving range.
It must have been National Golf Day or something, because every generation was out there. It's pretty sad when your club goes farther then the ball you hit, but it's true. It just kept flying...and flying...and rotating. Those poor people probably thought a helicopter was going to crash right on them. After a brief pause, I started running after it, right in front of every golfer teeing off. I was sheepishly yelling, "Watch out! Get out of the way! Heads up! Nooooooooo!" My feet felt heavy, like my kids were attached to each one - like I was swimming underwater. When I finally reached its landing pad, I noticed that no one was hitting golf balls. They all had changed the channel, and I was the station they tuned into. And by the look on their faces, they were riveted by what they had been watching. Embarrassed and panting like an out-of-shape dog from his first run, I couldn't believe where my club had ended up - right in the middle of a family with two strollers (I'm not kidding!), an angry mom, and a dad who was holding his two kids tighter than I had held my club. I gave a quick apology with little eye contact and ran the opposite way with my head down, back to where it all began. If I had a tail, I would have been sucking it like a Binky. My brother and his friend were dying, and so was I - in different ways of course.
I can't begin to explain what I was feeling the moment that club left my hands, as it was heading towards all those people. I really did think about leaving...sans club. But leaving would have been wrong on so many levels. Sometimes as I'm praying for those poor children and families that were affected by that horrific event, I think about moments of my life where I did leave the obvious solution on the course - moments where I left my club or my sin where I threw it.
It has become clear to me that I miss it most when no one's around to see what I'm going to do. At a public driving range filled with over 100 people, including those you came with, it's a pretty easy choice. But what about when you're in your living room, and it's just you, the TV, and the neighbor who's right outside that God's nudging you to talk to? Or when you lash out in anger at your child and squeeze them a little too tightly? Do you turn off the TV? Do you apologize to your child? Do you confess and repent, or do you continue and act like it wasn't sin? Do we need additional money in the budget for baby-sitting for us? Will we only obey if there are others who are watching over us, who can see what our reaction will be? Are we followers of Jesus only when others are following close behind?
Remember, it is sin to know what you ought to do and then not do it. James 4:17
The thing is, when we miss it, when we let the club fly, we can go pick it up again and make things right - we MUST, even. When we accept Jesus as Lord, we receive an unending supply of mulligans, and we are free to use them whenever we miss a birdie or land in a bunker. But we can't go on like we didn't do anything wrong, like we didn't hear His voice. When we do, it's just as bad as changing the scorecard. You see, part of changing and reacting the right way can only happen as we do the hard work of dealing with our sin - of calling it what it is. We need to know and believe that not doing what God is whispering in our ears is just as bad - just as hurtful to God and to ourselves - as breaking one of the Ten Commandments. Yes, there are different consequences to different sins, but all sin is sin. All sin is a trap. All sin holds us back in bondage. All sin keeps us from being truly free.
I believe our true selves are revealed by the choices and decisions we make when no one else is looking. Maybe it's our failure to do what we know we should do on a daily basis that keeps us stuck where we are. We keep taking the bait, and the prison door keeps shutting behind us.
May we see all sin for what it really is - a sand trap.
May we choose to pick up our clubs, to deal with our miss - hits and slices - and tee off again, allowing God to direct and guide our next swing.
May we follow God all the time, under all circumstances, not just when we're amongst a crowded driving range.
Comments
I prefer to approach God remembering that He loved me first. I desire to please him out of my love for him, because he is the one who taught me how to love. It seems to me that the rest sort of falls in to place. Sure we mess up. Sure, some of us gravitate towards certain negative actions over others. But he knows all that. He knows our strengths and our weaknesses and loves us in spite of all that. Isn't that why his love is so revolutionary anyway?
I think what you're saying is that if you hurt someone, have the character and consideration to own up to your mistake and take responsibility for your actions. And on that note, I completely agree with you. What I wanted to point out is that it isn't so hard to come forward when you know who's on your team. Ol' Dad is rootin' for ya. He's gonna help you get it right.
Yes God loves us through our sin and shortcomings but he also desires that his children become free of the bodage of sin- the sand trap.
Thanks for your comment Lauren- I definitely would have felt less embarrased if my club would have landed in the middle of your family...but then I would have missed this memorable experience.