more than a thousand miles

I’ve lived on a golf course for almost seven years. If my math is right, I’ve played it about 270 times, which is around 4,860 holes of golf. According to the USGA 15 minute average time it takes to play each hole of a round, that’s somewhere in the ballpark of 72,900 minutes, or 1,215 hours, or a little over 50 straight days that I’ve spent on that course if you throw in the extra time it takes to walk it. I have shot both of my lowest rounds ever on it. It has seen me run miles and miles and miles, chase my dog, be chased by my dog after he got sprayed by a skunk, and picnic on a date. Holes six, seven, and twelve have let my friends and I tear up its grass sledding every year it snows and I’ve worked at its clubhouse. I’ve flown off a golf cart on it several times, done donuts in its fairways, run through its sprinklers, and competed against my dad to see who can hit the farthest house on the edges of its out-of-bounds. I want to get married and die on a golf course somewhere, and this one would be just fine with me (at least for the dying part). That’s some pretty serious stock put into a little tract of mowed land.

Tonight, like a hundred other nights, I left my house with my dog, three golf clubs, and five golf balls to walk some holes. It was just in time for sunset and a storm was coming. There is one spot on the sixth green where you can probably see several neighboring states in the mountains that comprise the skyline, and words simply cannot describe the sunset I saw this time (unfortunately, I didn’t have my phone to take a picture because I like to use that time to disconnect from the world). It was more beautiful than any sky I had ever seen. I’ve seen the sun go down over oceans from ships hundreds of miles offshore, over lakes and fields in Kenya and Brazil, and over the buildings of New York City, Paris, and Rome. None of those compared to this. My back was to it as I walked up the sixth fairway. Unaware that Heaven itself was peaking through behind me, when I turned around to putt on the top of the sixth green, I was so blown away that I literally gasped for breath. I sat and didn’t move for an amount of time I don’t know. 

When I was little, I always believed that each beam of light coming down from the sun through the clouds was God taking someone up to Heaven to be with Him. (I think that’s an old wives’ tale, or maybe it was my mom trying to make me think of death more lightly.) In that one scene, I saw life and death. The warmth of the air heated by that sun made me feel alive and like I was wrapped in His arms, and the streaks coming from the clouds to the ground made me think of how glorious it would be to ascend into Heaven right then and there. What I saw on the sixth green was omnipresence. He was touching every ounce and end of the earth He created at every moment of every day in all of time. No matter what grace I needed to have or give, no matter the bad news I heard, no matter how weak I was or strong the enemy seemed to be, no matter how rocked my world felt--everything was still. The clouds surrounding the sun were as layered, huge, and incomprehensible as God’s love. The sun was as glaringly bright as His Son’s radiance and the hope He provides. God was there. God is here. All the time. Everywhere. Forever.

I think God made that sunset for me. I definitely hope someone else somewhere got as much out of it as I did, but it seemed like He was directly speaking to and reaching for me. I was in the place I felt most at home in this world. He knew that. No one else was around or in sight. He planned that. There were no noises, no distractions, and no other movements entering my mind. He made that happen. Come to think of it, my only other working sense soaked in the smell of the freshly cut grass all around me. But He even created that. I guess everything else seems so small and unimportant when you’re looking at God. He wanted to show me that. 

Looking out had made me look down, but God was calling me to look up. I may live on a golf course, but I was created to live for His Kingdom.

“You will seek me and you will find me when you seek me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:13

The skies lay low where You are

On the earth You rest Your feet

Yet the hands that cradle the stars

Are the hands that bled for me

In a moment of glorious surrender

You were broken for all the world to see

Lifted out of the ashes

I am found in the aftermath

Freedom found in Your scars

In Your grace my life redeemed

For You chose to take the sinner's crown

As You placed Your crown on me

In that moment of glorious surrender

Was the moment You broke the chains in me

Lifted out of the ashes

I am found in the aftermath

And in that moment You opened up the heavens

To the broken the beggar and the thief

Lifted out of the wreckage

I find hope in the aftermath

And I know that You're with me

Yes I know that You're with me here

And I know Your love will light the way

Now all I have I count it all as loss

But to know You and to carry the cross

Knowing I'm found

In the light of the aftermath

Aftermath by Hillsong United

standing up under it

Two buttery, made-from-scratch biscuits. Two crispy, greasy bacon strips. Two fat, spicy breakfast sausage patties. Unbelievably fresh jam, hand-mashed from strawberries grown in the back yard one day before. At least 1000 calories of sheer deliciousness sat on the plate in front of me, not including the massive pound cake with extra egg to make it even gooey-er sitting on the shelf five feet away, the homemade hot apple pie caked with cinnamon and crumb topping on the counter next to me, or the full-to-the-brim cookie jar containing huge, under-baked, scratch chocolate chip cookies right by it. Only at my great grandmother’s house can I come in from an awakening morning run to such an overwhelming aroma. I fought hard against my desire to go back to sleep to go on that run. I paced around the guest room in an out-loud debate with myself and scowled as I put on my tennis shoes. I almost died breathing that thick, humid, summer Florida air and almost got lost because I ran so far. When I came in to all of those glorious smells, I literally said, “crap” and rolled my eyes. All of that was for nothing. One day off, I told myself. Just one won’t hurt. 

And it didn’t—the next morning my dad about ran me into the ground doing one of his workouts, and it’s not like I’m one of those psycho freaks that can’t eat junk food and has to exercise every day... I’m a college kid... I’m not even close—but I’ve been on this big health kick for a few weeks now, and it’s not because I’m trying to lose weight or something by any means, but it’s because I’m trying to learn how to captivate my mind. I know that sounds crazy. I mean, what does controlling your body have to do with controlling your mind? It’s actually the exact same thing. I’ve heard miracle stories about people quitting smoking in a day, and if a physical addiction to nicotine can be put to rest, God can certainly help me get over my mental temptations and make me run a faster mile. I take it as no accident that the Bible mentions controlling your body and your mind so closely together:

“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” Romans 12:1-2

I’m correlating my recent lack of motivation to become a stronger Christian with my lack of motivation to move or do anything useful, really. I guess I’m trying to conquer my addiction to laziness along with my subconscious addiction to thinking about things that are harmful to me. Whether it be dwelling on what has been, what could have been, what I can’t have, what I want but I shouldn’t, the easy way out, the wide and curvy instead of the straight and narrow... my mind would much rather focus on things other than what God wants for me. Following the will of God is always a fight, but I know that renewing how I think and therefore how I feel will help me grasp it. I’m trying to think new thoughts about old things, because if I keep thinking the way I am, nothing will change. It’s hard for me to tell other people no, much more myself. I’m taking over a month off Facebook, I’m trying desperately to rekindle my desire for reading Scripture daily, I’m intentionally planning things with people I need to focus more on and drifting from those I need to detach from, I’ve cut out all non-Christian music from my life, I’m running or working out almost every day, and, most importantly, I’m praying all the time. I don’t think God calls us to do anything halfway, especially when we are surrounded with as much temptation as we are, so I’m trying to be a little drastic. I think Matthew 7:15-20 talks about bearing good fruit from the mind, and that’s worth it to me. Maybe my actions will change my mind which will change both my actions and my heart.

A big help has been memorizing this:

“No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.” 1 Corinthians 10:13

My faithful and jealous God is always, always reaching out for me, but I need to reach back. So when you hear me complain about being sore, know that’s all I’m really trying to do.

Breakfast at Great Memaw's. :)