The First Ball (04/12/2024)

It’s official; spring has arrived. Oh, I know the calendar and weather man told us that three weeks ago. I know I wrote about it a couple days ago noting the appearance of bikes, blossoms and butterflies. But yesterday we got our first golf ball left by a golfer in our yard. Spring is here – the golfers have returned and so have the errant balls.

Every year from April through November, my husband and I retrieve the errant balls from our yard. Our yard abuts the 8th fairway of the local golf course. And it’s one of the longest and trickiest holes on the course. Every year we pick up the balls left behind and store them in the 10-gallon crock in the garage. It’s still full of last year’s reminders that not everyone has the perfect stroke.

Some of the balls are there because the golfer simply didn’t track his ball and was unable to find it later. But the majority are there because they hit my home, and the golfer doesn’t want to claim responsibility. However, there are also those who not only hit our home but then trespass searching for their balls and any others they can find, mementos of other not so good golfers who came before them.

Living next to the golf course, as I do, is a reminder to me of life and the necessity of living it well and with loving kindness and concern for those with whom I share the journey. Let me explain.

The balls left by those who didn’t track their balls remind me to be aware, to be present to the moment and especially to the people with whom I share that moment and to the LORD’s power and presence in the moment. How many needs have I not seen in my companions? How often has the LORD blessed me in the moment and I either took all the credit or missed it all together?

The balls of those left by the golfers who hit my house remind me that what I do has consequences – good or bad. I can’t insist on claiming accolades for the good if I’m not also willing to take responsibility for the not so good or bad. These balls remind me that I need to take into account how my actions impact others, and when they negatively impact another, I need to take the time and make the effort to apologize, own the error, and try to make amends.

And the balls that got away, picked up by those who hit my house and don’t care, remind me that there will be times in life when bad things happen to me, but I must be able to forgive. Living on the 8th hole has definitely taught me about forgiveness. But, I realize that I need to forgive for two reasons. Jesus died on the cross for the forgiveness of my sins. How can I withhold forgiveness of another? And because not forgiving robs me of peace.

Our faith, I’ve found, is something we live every hour of every day or not at all. It’s not something reserved to a pew with a hymnal or to a particular day. And every day in multiple ways the LORD has a way of calling to us through the moments of our days and through the companions along the way. It’s not a case of whether that happens, it’s a case of whether or not we will realize that our entire life is about our journey.

Until tomorrow, let us all love well.