We sit down to family dinner and the middle child tells us he is going to try out for the highschool golf team. My husband and I glance at each other and say o.k. We remind him that he is a freshman and it would be a great goal to make the junior varsity team.
Later we talk about the fact that he doesn't have much experience. Oh we know he can hit the ball. We know because when he was little he would spend hours standing in the freshly mown lawn. The black dog standing at attention by his side. He would swing at the tiny white sphere and the clink of club against ball would send the dog running to fetch it and bring it back.
But competitive golf...tournament golf...this he had never done. This son, he works and practices and he makes the varisty level team. We send him off to tournaments and his dad sneaks out to watch, walks with him during one tournament...and with that his game falls apart.
Now we find ourselves in Austin. The golf team competing in the state tournament. It is cold and windy when we arrive. The mom standing beside me says he is very nervous...we make him nervous. He tees off and we stand far away...wanting to watch...but willing to sacrifice it for his sake...so that he can play his best. The first nine holes we watch from far distances and this is hard because what I want to do is encourage him when he hits it in the water or when the wind literally stops the ball midair.
After stopping to grab some lunch we watch to see how things are going. He hits toward the green...we really can't tell...we are too far off. He walks back to his bag...looks directly at us and gives us his signature fist pump. My eyes brim as I ask, "Did he know we were here?" This is a moment I will never forget. The moment when a child lets you know...he knows...you're there cheering him on...loving him no matter what...and maybe just maybe he wants you there.
It feels like a sacred moment. Honestly the fact that God is watching from a distance makes me nervous. I don't want him to see me mess up, go out of bounds, splash down...lose it in the woods. All the while He sits waiting for you to recognize that all He really wants is for you to know He is there. There to cheer you on when shots don't go your way, and your feet hurt, and you would really like to throw your putter into the pond. There not to judge or critque or tell you how to do it better. Just there...because this is how a Father loves...and it is something He never wants you to forget.
