“The God I worship is a loving God,” said the Old Pro. “I don’t think he made any junk.” Even though many people would agree with that statement, most of us tend to think about ourselves negatively, and sometimes we assume God does too. Perhaps he loves us like a harsh disciplinarian loves his trainees, or maybe he’s more like a disappointed parent loving a problem child. We often define ourselves by our mistakes and then beat ourselves up for them. We end up living under an

Whatever Paul McAllister achieved, it was never enough. He was successful at many things, but his heart was always unsettled. The accolades and achievements never fully satisfied him, so the job was never done. If he had recognized how unquenchable his thirst for fulfillment was, he might have slowed down to find out why. He might have recognized that his life had been an unending, futile mission to fill that void. But he was too busy, always looking for the next thing—the ne

As a golfer, you know all about mulligans. Playing partners have probably of- fered them to you many times. You’ve probably offered them to your partners many times too. Or maybe you’re like Paul McAllister, who played strictly by the rules and was too proud to receive “charity” for a bad shot. In either case, you learned early on about this expression of grace and, whether you received it or not, how often it is needed. God and mulligans go together. He came up with the idea

To put it in golf terms, our greatest problem in life is the gap between the way God’s course was meant to be played and the way we actually play it. That gap represents two hard realities: (1) We are required to sign a perfect scorecard at the end of God’s course in order to be accepted by him; and (2) none of us has a perfect scorecard. There is one exception, though. Jesus earned a perfect scorecard, and the good news is that God offers it to anyone who will receive it in

The game of golf has a way of mirroring events that occur in real life. In golf as in life, focusing on impressing others can result in some embarrass- ing moments. In both golf and life, trying to compensate for insecurities by demanding perfection from yourself leads to a frustrating experience and missed opportunities to enjoy the people and world around you. In golf and life, beating yourself up for mistakes creates a horrible narrative in your own mind that leads to bad

Whether you are conscious of it or not, you have been on a spiritual journey looking for the answers to life’s biggest questions. Many people are very aware of that journey; others keep pushing it aside, trying to prove their own significance while avoiding the question of why their significance even matters. Like a results-driven, Type-A executive who neglects his relationships for the bottom line or the next big acquisition—or even just a busy person with a long to-do list—

Mastering the game of golf is a lifelong challenge guaranteed never to be com- pleted. As soon as we think we have a handle on one part of our game, another seems to fall apart. Sometimes we come to the course full of confidence and leave with more questions than answers. Life is full of questions too, and some of them are as big as questions can get. Where did I come from? Who am I? Is there a God? If so, what is he like? What is the meaning of life, and what happens when I

Golf and life have a lot in common. Both demand that we make numerous decisions, plan for a variety of hazards, manage our expectations, keep a bal- anced perspective, deal with disappointment, and proceed with confidence and hope. In fact, what we do on the course often reflects how we live our lives—the kind of person we are, the decisions we make, the priorities we have, how we respond to challenges, and how we handle success and failure. Over an eighteen-hole round, our p