Playing On

This is a week when I know I need to be “all prayed up,” as they say in AA. Fathers’ Day kicked it off, then conducting the funeral of a dear friend before heading to Vermont to officiate at the wedding of a childhood friend’s son. All three are reasons to celebrate, but all three carried the potential to shroud the joy if I let them. My relationships with my children are not as good as I would like them to be. I’ve hurt many who will be assembled for the funeral, and each time I speak about marriage I’m reminded how far from it’s wonders I’ve strayed. After a brunch with two of my children, I was given the day to watch the US Open golf tournament and that gave me all I needed to carry on.

For those of you who do not follow golf, the US Open is a particularly challenging tournament. They choose the hardest courses and make the conditions almost unbearable. This year was no exception and the best golfers in the world struggled to survive. One golfer stood above the rest, but with each shot over four days the crowd booed and harassed him because of something he did a year ago. I don’t know how he did it, but the golfer kept playing on. In the end, he was victorious, but as I watched him hoist the trophy I couldn’t help but think his victory was over more than a difficult golf course.

Making our way through life is never easy, and some seem to have a steeper climb than others. The crowd, however, awaits us all to lpoint out our imperfections, remind us of all our mistakes. We are faced with the same choice the golfer had: to crumble or play on. While it sounds simple, it’s grueling to play on when the crowds (the ones surrounding us and the ones inside our heads) are so loud.

Even if we don’t hoist a trophy at the end, at least we’ll have chosen the more difficult, more excellent, way and that’s a trophy in its own way.