I’ll begin with a confession: my first experience with golf was illegal.
I grew up in an apartment complex in Houston, Texas. Across the street was a country club with a golf course. Before and after golfers played the course, my friends and I used to sneak onto the fairway of one hole to play football.
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The people running the club noticed our clandestine activities and erected a chain-link fence around the course. Thus ended my golf engagement for many years.
When God called our family to pastor First Baptist Church Midland, Texas, I took up the game of golf so as to spend time with staff colleagues and church members who played. The local country club allowed clergy to play for free on Thursdays. I could never have afforded the dues to be a member of the club, but I could pretend to be one on Thursdays because of their largesse.
Invitation to the Masters
Our next pastorate was in Atlanta, Georgia. One Sunday morning, a member of the congregation — who was also a former governor of the state — asked if I would care to attend the Masters.
I thought, fasted and prayed about his invitation for about a millisecond before accepting.
Full story.
EDITOR’S NOTE — This story was written by Jim Denison and originally published by the Denison Forum. Used with permission.
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