Are you on the Green?

Do it God’s Way

In the game of golf, logic says, “Don’t go for the green.” Golf 101 says, “Don’t go for the green.” But I say, “Give me my driver, I’m going for the green!” Golf reveals a lot about a person. I don’t need advice—whack! I can handle this myself—clang!

Can you relate? We want to do things our way. Forget the easy way and forget the best way. Forget God’s way. Too much stubbornness. Too much independence. Too much self-reliance. All I needed to do was apologize, but I had to argue. All I needed to do was listen, but I had to open my big mouth. All I needed to do was be patient, but I had to take control. All I had to do was give it to God, but I tried to fix it myself.

Scripture says, “Do it God’s way.” Experience says, “Do it God’s way.” And every so often, we do! We might even make the green.

From Traveling Light

Your Middle C

When author Lloyd Douglas attended college, he lived in a boardinghouse with a retired music professor who lived on the first floor. Douglas would stick his head in the door and ask, “Well, what’s the good news?” The old man would pick up his tuning fork, tap it on the side of his chair and say, “That’s middle C. It was middle C yesterday; it will be middle C tomorrow; it will be middle C a thousand years from now. The tenor upstairs sings flat. The piano across the hall is out of tune, but, my friend, that is middle C!”

You and I need a middle C. A still point in a turning world. An unchanging Shepherd. A God who can still the storm. A Lord who can declare the meaning of life. And according to David in Psalm 23—you have one. The Lord is your shepherd! He is your middle C!

From Traveling Light

Are you EXHAUSTED?

A Great Race to Run

God wants to use you my friend, but how can He if you’re exhausted?

The other day when I was getting ready for my run, the sun was out, but the wind was chilly. Jacket or sweatshirt? The Boy Scout within me prevailed and I wore both. Got my cell phone, my water bottle. So no one would steal my car, I pocketed my keys. I looked more like a pack mule than a runner! Within half a mile, I was pealing off the jacket.

That kind of weight will slow you down. What’s true in jogging is true in faith. God has a great race for you to run. But you have to drop some stuff. How can you lift someone else’s load if your arms are full with your own?

For the sake of those you love, travel light. For the sake of the God you serve, travel light. For the sake of your own joy, travel light!

From Traveling Light

Travel Light

I don’t know how to travel light. But I need to learn. You can’t enjoy a journey carrying so much stuff—so much luggage. Odds are, somewhere this morning between the first step on the floor and the last step out the door, you grabbed some luggage.

Don’t remember doing so? That is because you did it without thinking. That’s because the bags we grab aren’t made of leather, they are made of burdens. The suitcase of guilt. A duffel bag of weariness, a hanging bag of grief. A backpack of doubt, an overnight bag of fear. Lugging luggage is exhausting!

God is saying, “Set that stuff down. You’re carrying burdens you don’t need to bear.” Jesus says in Matthew 11:28, “Come to Me all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”

I need to learn to travel light!