There are numerous differences between professional golfers and recreational ones. (Hello, Captain Obvious.) But one of the most significant is their opposing views of sand traps . . . aka bunkers.

Even though they are considered a hazard (or penalty area), most professionals don’t fear them. They feel confident of getting out of them, believe they can make a good shot from there, and often aim for one as the best shot option.

Not so for many recreational golfers. They would rather be anywhere but in a bunker. Give them the worst rough and they would be happy because that, at least, is a known quantity. It’s grass.

The difference? Professional golfers practice and practice and practice getting out of bunkers, so much so that they trust their shot.

Life as a Christian isn’t much different. Often we are thrown into new and difficult situations that we haven’t ever been in before, and we would rather be anywhere but there.

But the real issue is also one of trust. Not in a club, but in God. And the same remedy applies. Let me explain.

Many of us, at sometime in our lives, have prayed for patience . . . only to find out that the only way to gain patience is to deal with situations where patience is required. Patience isn’t magically bestowed on us from above (though we would certainly like it to be.)

The same with trust. The only way our trust can grow is to be put into situations where trust is required. The more we experience God’s faithfulness, love, mercy, protection . . . the more our trust grows.

James writes in his epistle to “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

As one writer so aptly says, “Trials develop our spiritual muscles, giving us the stamina and endurance to stay the course (Romans 5:2–5). We can count it all joy in trials because in them we learn to depend on God and trust Him.” (Got Questions)

Anyone who has moved houses knows of this natural phenomenon — stuff multiplies.

We are in the process of moving my mother from the home she and my father built — and then lived in — since 1967.  For my two younger sisters, it is really the only house they have ever known. For my brother and I, it is the house that holds the most memories — and now that we are all helping her move — a lot of stuff.





Moves may be exciting, but they are also challenging. In many cases, because of the circumstances, you can’t take everything with you, which means culling through all your belongings and deciding what goes and what doesn’t.

And this is hard because it is tough to let go of our stuff. Our stuff makes us feel secure. Our stuff makes us comfortable. Our stuff has a lot of memories.

Our stuff owns us.

So moving requires us to leave our comfort zone and much of what makes us feel secure, and venture into something and somewhere new. It requires trust.

I am drawn to the stories of “moving” in the Bible, whether God commanded (as in Abraham to Canaan) or God directed (as in Moses to Jethro’s or Joseph to Egypt). Most left with very little if anything of their former life except their trust in God, but that trust brought great rewards.

Many of us are not currently contemplating a physical move, but God is always asking us to move spiritually forward, and as with a physical move, sometimes it is just tough to get rid of things that bring us comfort and security but at the same time own us.

Is God nudging you to move forward? Away from one “place” and to another? Are there things in your spiritual life that “own” you that God is asking you to leave behind?

Are you being asked to trust? Do it!

I’m having some landscaping and fencing work done . . .  Well, I’m trying. But I’ve run into a problem.

The two landscapers and one fencing contractor that I have contacted have all come out, looked the projects over with me, taken measurements, and told me they would get back to me in a couple of days with an estimate. I was impressed with all of them.


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That was a month ago.

I called—once—to remind them that they said they would have an estimate for me. All voicemails. Still nothing. I won’t call twice.

Now I am not NOT impressed. And when neighbors ask me if I have chosen someone to do my landscaping projects, I tell them who I am NOT having do it. Their lack of follow-through has ruined their reputation in my eyes.

Yes, I know they are probably busy and my project is relatively small, but they said they would call. Doesn’t a person’s word mean anything anymore?

And yet . . .

Though I am diligent in keeping my physical obligations, I am not so diligent in keeping my spiritual ones. How many times have I told someone I would pray for them and then didn’t. Well, maybe once fleetingly, but I truly didn’t intercede on their behalf. Fortunately, this was a promise that was hidden behind spiritual doors.

And yet . . .

How do I know that they were/are not watching me and waiting to see what my God will do? Maybe because of my lack of follow-through they have come to think my God doesn’t care or answer prayer.

Maybe they now think that my flippant “I’ll pray for you,” is all a Christian offers in such situations, and does not mean I will walk beside them or continue to care.

We should be very careful with the promises we make, for much of the world is looking at us to get a glimpse of God and since God never breaks a promise, we should try hard to keep the ones we make.

First, I noticed the words on the screen weren’t keeping up with the speed of the singing. Next, one member of the worship team was lifting her arms a little higher than necessary. Then, the communion leader was dressed too casually. And there you have it. I was off and running, looking for other “sins." I had a full-blown critical spirit.

There is a reason, David prays for God to “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me” (Psalm 51:10), because we are so prone to a critical spirit.

A critical spirit always starts in arrogance. It starts with the belief that I know better. My way is the right way. But as Jeremiah reminds us . . .



“The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?”  17:9

A critical spirit's purpose is always to deflect from our our own defects. Point the attention towards others’ supposed imperfections and ours stay out of the limelight. But eventually, we will be found out.

“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye." (Matthew 7:1-5)

And a critical spirit always results in division. Get enough people focusing on the little things and you can cause a divide that impacts the only big, important thing out there—salvation.

Keeping our heart in check is not an easy task but it is a necessary one as Solomon reminds us when he says, “Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.” Proverbs 4:23

I thought I had killed it. I thought it was dead.

Two years ago, I bought a dogwood to plant on the north side of the house, just outside my bedroom window. I had waited a long time to plant it. I waited until the flowering pear and the ornamental plum were tall enough to give it the necessary shade in the hot summer. Dogwoods don’t do well in extreme heat and direct sunlight, so really not the best tree to plant in my area, BUT I wanted one, so . . .

However, I had my angles all wrong and there had been a gap . . . between the house and those trees, and the summer sun beat directly down on that young tree.

I shielded it with a shade sail, but it still withered away. I had killed it . . . or so I thought.

But I hadn’t. In my worry over conserving water, I had “starved” my little tree of what it needed most—water. I just hadn’t watered it enough.

We are no different. Though it really depends on the conditions, most experts say that while humans can live up to two months without food, they can survive only a few days without water.  While our total body is roughly 60% water, our major organs (liver, lungs, heart, kidneys, brain) start at 70-75% water (liver) and work up to 80-85% (brain). (MedicalNewsToday)

It is no wonder then that Jesus uses the imagery of water to convey the importance of a relationship with him. When he encounters a woman at a well who has used the world’s “water” in order to find satisfaction and is left wanting, he does not leave her hopeless. Instead he offers himself, the living water,  the only “water” that will sustain us in all ways, at all times.

While we deal with drought conditions and work to negotiate conserving water and keeping our plants alive, it is comforting to know that spiritually we don’t have to walk this tight line. So if you feel yourself spiritually dry, return to the source of revival. Reread the words in red and renew your relationship with Jesus.