Tag Archives: postaweek2011

Sixteen Shots

Romans 3:3-4 “We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation.”

I’ve heard that character is who you are in the dark, when no one is watching. That’s a valid description in most scenarios, but I think character is also who you are when everyone is watching.

I flipped on SportsCenter recently, and one of the lead stories that day was that of Kevin Na, a PGA Tour professional. Fortunately for duffers everywhere, but quite unfortunately for him, Kevin had a really tough ninth hole at TPC San Antonio. After replaying the video to recount his strokes on this par four hole, he signed his card showing a sixteen. Yes. Sixteen.

Let that sink in a little. A professional golfer took a sixteen on a hole. He went from one under par to eleven over par in one hole. Pretty sure that’s a record of some sort…

In an interview afterwards, he said that one of his shots hit a branch and bounced back an hit him. As if getting hit with your own ball isn’t penalty enough, the rules call for a penalty stroke. Then, he swung one time and missed the ball altogether. Again, penalty stroke (though we hackers would probably call that a practice swing). He counted everything. Every. Single. Stroke.

There were three things that I noticed about that video clip that really stood out to me. First of all, standing in the woods and hitting through trees, the only person in the world that could know that the ball hit Kevin on a rebound is Kevin. Yet, he took the penalty, because those are the rules. Not only did that take courage, it was a significant show of integrity, of character.

Secondly, they showed him walking with his caddie toward the green (finally), and he was jovially laughing. He was fourteen strokes into a par four hole, and he was smiling and joking. “Not sure, but I think I’m somewhere between ten and fifteen,” he said to his caddie. There are duffers everywhere that would be breaking expensive clubs over one knee if they were “somewhere between ten and fifteen” on one hole, especially if they were miraculously one under par heading into that hole.

The last thing that really stood out to me was Kevin’s score on the back nine… a 33. That’s three under par for the back nine, those same nine holes that immediately followed his sixteen shot wonder. What an incredible show of fortitude!

We’ve all faced difficulties and trials, times when it would be easy to fold under the pressure. How we endure those difficulties speaks volumes about our character, and about the eternal hope we have. And that same confident hope allows us to regroup after a trial and “swing our club” once again.

Next time I’m tempted to use a “foot-wedge” from the woods, I hope I remember Kevin Na, and have the character he had when everyone was watching.

Grace and peace,

Delton

(This was sent as an eDevotion by my home church in Florida. You can subscribe to receive daily devotionals from Church @ The Springs by clicking here.)


going up

James Rainsford

i gaze towards the finish ahead
fatigue grips me before i begin
looking
fearing
dreading
it never ends unless i start

the steps above me seem endless
ever pressing towards the top
walking
stepping
climbing
a journey stretching in the distance

the goal above is waiting there
the destination awaiting my arrival
striving
burning
longing
each step harder than before

awaiting is such wonder and glory
invisible now but altogether real
singing
dancing
resting
worthy of the effort and toil

This is my submission for One Shot Sunday at onestoppoetry.com.  Photo prompt graciously provided by James Rainford. Go here to read some of the other submissions.


broken silence

the silence is only broken

by forced-dammed tears

 

the air is sticky

coagulated grease

left on the stovetop

 

hollow pings from the speakers

do little to drown out the quiet

 

reflectors thump the tires

as the vocal chords rest

and eyes burn not with passion

 

the driveway finds the wheels

unfitting end to a weary ride

 

doors thud as dead air is trapped

the softened stairway carpets the pain

and leads upward to a new place

 

the car remains below and outside

and the silence is again broken

 

 

This is my submission for One Shot Wednesday for OneStopPoetry.

Go there to read other submissions for the week.

 


the prayer of a righteous man

 

the prayer of a righteous man

to a God who hears his longing heart

a want is whispered wistfully

like carefree wishes in candlelight

 

to a God who hears his longing heart

his fleeting cries are softer still

like carefree wishes in candlelight

the truth secured by silence kept

 

his fleeting cries are softer still

a deep desire revealed to none

the truth secured by silence kept

lifted high above to an ear not seen

 

a deep desire revealed to none

the prayer of a righteous man

lifted high above to an ear not seen

a want is whispered wistfully

 

This is called a Malayan Pantoum. A new friend introduced me to this form from a book called Room to Write by Bonni Goldberg. Goldberg says, “It is a poetic form in which all the lines in the poem repeat themselves. This means you are responsible for asserting every line twice; nothing new may be said without responding in some way to what has come before it…Writing a pantoum is a way to dance with form and let it lead.” You can also read more about pantoums here.

This is my submission to the Warrior’s Poet Circle. The prompt was “Hidden in God.” Read other submissions here.


write it down

Write it down

2 Timothy 1:7 “For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline.”

I recently finished reading a book about rituals.  It didn’t address them in the traditional context of “spiritual rituals.” Rather, it was talking about the decisions we make about how we spend our time that eventually become habits in our lives.

It’s an interesting premise: we all expend energy to complete the tasks before us.  Actions like good hygiene don’t require a lot of energy, while responsibilities like self-control can consume a lot.  But when something becomes a habit in our lives, it takes much less energy to complete it.

For example, as an adult, it doesn’t require any energy output on my part to remember to brush my teeth.  It happens almost automatically when I get up in the morning and before I go to bed.  But as a parent, I find myself reminding my boys to brush theirs almost every day.  I don’t really remember it, but I suspect that my parents had to remind me, too, until it became a habit.

Anyone who’s ever started a diet, or an exercise program, or a daily time with God can attest to the amount of energy it takes to establish a discipline.  Finding the daily motivation within ourselves is often not enough.  We find ourselves quitting almost as quickly as we began.

Rituals are different.  If we can be ritualistic about something in the short run, it can more quickly lead to a habit that requires very little energy to maintain it as an ongoing part of our lives.  Often, creating a ritual is as easy as putting it on our calendars.  The simple act of writing it down, committing to a specific time and place to complete the task, is enough to begin the ritual.

If we truly examine ourselves, I know there are areas in our lives that we’d like to improve.  We might want to lose some weight, or exercise more, or have that daily quiet time that we’ve been promising God, but our efforts at self-discipline have failed.  Why not try a ritual?  Commit to a time and place by writing it down, then do it.

My friend once said that you can tell a lot about people by their calendars and their checkbooks.  I think I’ll check mine today to see what’s really important to me. I hope I like what I see.

Grace and peace,

Delton


the road

suff’ring is not the road i’d choose

i’d much rather find an easier way

but i forget about winning until i lose

 

these toils of life are like stones in my shoes

the blisters are painful and cause me to sway

suff’ring is not the road i’d choose

 

discouragement ignites a very short fuse

not sure it’s worth the cloud of dismay

but i forget about winning until i lose

 

the treacherous journey leaves me amused

i stumble and fall but proceed anyway

suff’ring is not the road i’d choose

 

this trek we call life leaves me confused

just wonder if i can survive the day

but i forget about winning until i lose

 

some refer to strife as paying your dues

but if that’s the cost i’d rather not pay

suff’ring is not the road i’d choose

but i forget about winning until i lose

 

This is called a “villanelle,” which you can read about here, and this is my submission for One Shot Wednesday for OneStopPoetry (though my form is a week late…). Go here to read other submissions for week 30.


12 baskets

two fish and five loaves

fed five thousand men and more

no one left hungry

 

twelve baskets of scraps

food to feed a small army

what do we do now

 

baskets are heavy

this may spoil before it’s gone

more than we bargained

 

guess we’ll throw it out

it won’t keep till tomorrow

seems like such a waste

 

waves and crashing wind

have courage for it is I

we don’t understand

 

–From Matthew 14

 


winter

Jackson Hole

 

the seasons we experience define how we live

our senses take in what the world has to give

the spring and the fall have some redeeming traits

fresh and new, cool and old, eager to compensate

the summer is long and our activity is high

strong heat of the day, subtle coolness at night

but the winter is when i feel most alive

while others hibernate, i just seem to thrive

there’s something about the bite in the wind

that tingles and singes and brittles my skin

an invigorating discomfort that resembles pain

still seems somehow pleasant to my misinformed brain

it brings an alertness that is otherwise pale

a zest for the elements of which to avail

for during the summers my arms i forget

and in the springtime showers i’m boringly wet

the autumn has its beauty, at least one sense is appeased

but for me the cool weather is but only a tease

for the harshness of winter that chills to the bone

the beauty of snowfall is like cream in a cone

the silence that follows when the rustle is gone

brings a peace and delight where once there was none

yes i love my dear winter, with its cold blue embrace

the wind-drawn tears from my eyes are its kiss to my face

spring to summer, then to autumn, the finale is here

i’m grateful for seasons, especially that one most severe

 

I feel winter.  Do you have a favorite season?  What sets it apart for you?


eye disease

Great post today on the Cycleguy’s Spin about “eye” disease. I hope you’ll read it.  My reaction is below.

 

where are your eyes

and how do you see

do you have God’s perspective

or are you blind like me

 

my vision is blurry

and my view is obscured

when i see through my own eyes

instead of His word

 

i often lose focus

my eyes off the goal

looking backward regretfully

not seeing the whole

 

see past our surroundings

take a good look around

we serve a big God

and His blessings abound

 

when i’m feeling myopic

and my spiritual eyes are blind

i set my sights again on my Savior

and on what lies ahead, not behind

 

Where are your eyes?  I’d love to hear your thoughts, too.  And don’t forget to read the comments on Cycleguy’s post.  His readers have some great insights…


childlike eyes

Abram's frog

the zest of life is ignored by so many

a lacking embrace of world around

overlooking the simple joys of created wonders

while the marvelous touches of His hand abound

still we march along without taking notice

perhaps seeing and hearing but the details are missed

hurrying about from one good thing to another

somehow never too busy to merely exist

one look at my children and i regain what is lost

seeing through their eyes, my curiosity is renewed

their unrestrained joy is gratefully contagious

i can’t help but smile…  how about you?

 


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