Sunday, November 21, 2004
This used to be a perfectly flat golf course...until I hacked away at it.
You should see me golf. I do it about once every 24 months - and it shows. I could lose a golf ball in Kansas. Flat and treeless terrain is no match for my slice. I take with me about a ball per hole (and that is living on the edge), just to make sure I can finish a round.
I am gifted, as well, at teeing off with some sensational blunders. I have done quite a few "practice swings," providing some good entertainment for my golfing buddies, but my favorite blunder is the time when I somehow almost hit myself with a golf ball on my drive. It did not take a bad bounce off a tree, as you might be thinking - it literally came off the club and at my face. Go ahead and try that one at home. I bet you can't even begin to think of how this is possible.
What would I do without the mulligan? I need an extra shot for about every shot I take. Usually, I need a couple of 'em. Now, I'm talking life. I enter about every situation with a mixed bag of emotions, motives, and objectives. Sometimes I get my junk together and hit the fairway, but more often I'm off in the rough "trying to find my butt with both hands," as my father likes to say in proverbial tones.
To many people Jesus is a friend, to others he is a revolutionary, and to others still he is a king or savior. Not bad ideas...and pretty theologically sound. I take no issue with them, but to me, Jesus is a Mulligan. He's my permission to have a do over. He doesn't mark anything against me. I get to play. I get to keep playing.
On another note, I work here.