It’s been over 30 years but nothing has changed … between me and my golf partner. Recently I played golf with him, the one who got me hooked on the game.

When I was in high school he belonged to a private golf course, but would play golf with me at a municipal course close to where we lived.

At first I would hit more bad shots than good ones, but over time it seemed that the good ones stuck with me and I forgot about the bad shots I made.

I think it’s something like giving birth: a mother forgets what the pain was really like so that she is eager to have another child. … Okay, it’s nothing like giving birth, but somehow the good shots I made – as few as they were – kept me coming back for more.

I think I was a slow learner because this friend would give me a lot of tips each time I duffed another shot about 20 yards down the fairway. 

He didn’t do it too much, though, because too many suggestions can really get annoying after a while. … I know because I’ve helped Lily with her golf game. I have to catch myself or she gets a little angry with me.

Over the first few years I started to get better at the game until I was making more good shots than bad ones.  

I would still have some holes where I blew up and shot an eight or something, but it always seemed, by the end of each round, that I had made a really good shot that caused me to think I could do that every time. 

As I got better, I started playing more with my friend and even eventually joined the golf club where he was a member. 

We had a few really great years of golf there before I moved out west to go to school and then work.

In those years that we played together, he would do something interesting. He would club me on almost every shot. 

I don’t mean that he took a golf club and whacked me over the head with it; he just told me what club I should use. 

He did it when I first started learning the game and he never stopped. 

It got so routine that sometimes I would just look at him and he would say, “use a 7 iron”. I would pull it out of my bag without a thought of questioning his suggestion.

He was right about 95% of the time … that’s if I hit the ball well.

That was our pattern. But that was also over 30 years ago. 

When I recently had the chance to play with my old friend again, I noticed something interesting. When I would get to my ball he, like clock work, as if it was automatic, would say, “use a 7 iron” … and I just pulled it out of my bag. 

There were even times when I didn’t say anything. I just looked at him and he would tell me. 

It was like we’d never stopped playing together; he was still helping me play better.

And somehow I had the same effect on him. He had his best round of the year so far.

Here’s the thing: Get in the habit of asking God for help, even with the little things in your day. If you start to include Him more and more in your decisions, and really listen for His response, then years from now when you are making some crucial decision, or even a minor one, God will whisper in your ear which club to pull. 

That’s Life!

Paul

Question: Who have you come to count on for help? Leave your comments below.