But when he [the Prodigal] came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’ And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. (Luke 15: 11-32, ESV)
We stand on the first tee, filled with anticipation, dreaming of what might be. We encounter ups and downs, then arrive at the 18th tee after playing well or limping along, hoping to “get it into the barn” without incident.
Playing 18 holes is life in miniature. There are times when everything goes right. Sometimes, nothing goes right, and you can’t get off the course fast enough. Most of the time, we experience a bit of it all in an eighteen-hole stretch.
I once saw a man standing in the greenside bunker on the 18th hole, shaking his fist, stomping his feet, and cursing God directly. As a wet-behind-the-ears, not-yet-right-with-God kid, I knew that was seriously wrong— needless to say, he didn’t finish strong.
Finishing strong is boatloads of fun, even if the in-between is fraught with some failure. Mr. Hogan was right to call this a “game of misses.” Virtually every round has a bump or two with which to contend. How we handle seasons of failure, especially the self-inflicted ones, is critical to “getting it to the house” successfully.
I have an old friend who likes to say, “My life is an open book, but I’ve torn out a few chapters.” By that, he means he struggled in some seasons of life, to put it mildly. Looking back over sixty-eight years, I’ve faltered in the middle of rounds and, sadly, in various seasons of life.
There are exceptions, but starting strong in a round is a critical first step to going low. Even more importantly, finishing strong matters greatly, whether it’s to cap off a great round or recover from some missteps.
Of course, we all cherish those rounds where we birdie 3 out of the last 4 holes to crown a great round. But we also feel fantastic when we’ve stumbled somewhere mid-round only to finish with four straight birdies.
Like me, I bet you will look back on your life and wince at some of your decisions, behaviors, and failures. When I ponder a previous tough season of life, my heart sinks when I remember my rebellion toward King Jesus and His commandments.
Though I know He forgives me, loves me, picks me up, dusts me off, pats me on the back, and says, “Let’s go; we have much to do,” I still deeply regret the insanity of my decisions.
Like Jonah, after walking with Jesus for many years, I boarded a boat of rebellion. I did not end up in the belly of a sea monster, but like the Prodigal Son, my stubborn ways led me to a metaphorical pigpen.
But here’s the thing: In a hotel room in the Midwest during an ice storm, the Holy Spirit came and pinned me to the floor in profound remorse over my sin.
Weeping like never before or since, I got up, flew home, and started over. That was 25 years ago. There is no one He cannot redeem—me, you, and even the guy in the bunker cursing God to His face.
Finishing strong and getting it “to the house” with a Christ-honoring life ends the way it begins—with visceral humility bowed before the King of Glory!
After betraying his father, the Prodigal Son humbled himself and returned home. When the father saw him, he ran, embraced, and kissed him. If you are like me and the Prodigal, come home and let the Father embrace, kiss, and restore you to sonship!
Prayer: Father! Run out and get the prodigals who have stunk it up in the middle of life’s round.