The sun filled skies were the perfect backdrop to a recent golf match at Crowder's Mountain. As I meandered the course, I found myself more than once in the way of match play. Obviously they frown upon you taking a shortcut across their fairway. So I thought surely I would be safe on the golf cart path. Apparently that too interferes with a ball being driven thru the greens. I then became confused with the club signage that said "Golf Carts only on Path". Did that mean you couldn't drive the cart somewhere else or a person didn't qualify to stand on the path?
This trip to the golf match was becoming quite perplexing. My final task was to pick Drew out from all the other male high school golfers roaming around in shorts, collared shirts and hats. Finally I see him cresting the hill. I try to remain inconspicuous in my orange leggings, but he sees me, speaks and moves on to birdie the hole.
A golf cart rider stops to ask, "Which one is your kid?" Beaming with pride, I say, "Drew." "He's in the black shirt," the inquirer asks? "Yes." The it dawned on me, I should probably clarify for the observer that Drew is not my flesh and blood. However, I knew it would be impossible to describe my relationship with Drew and any other member of the youth group at FUMC for that matter. It seemed best to leave well enough alone. Which one is your kid? They all are! The depth of my love for Drew and others through Jesus Christ shines as bright as that 80 degree day on the golf course.
