In South Carolina, down along a branch of the old Dixie Highway, known as the Augusta Road, serenely shouldering the road is Lickville Presbyterian Church. Passersby traveling at 65 m.p.h. toward a focused destination might chance her postcard setting piercing their thought with a subdued and undisturbed scene. But too fast and too soon the […]
Ambling down the lane Read More »
Words travel. And by this I mean to say spoken words do not just fall upon someone’s ears, but they also change meanings and can become unrecognizable from their origin. Thanks to my good brother in Christ, Bill Carroll, who gave to me a brief read entitled, “Out of Solitude” by Henri Nouwen, I re-read
“For we through the Spirit eagerly wait for the hope of righteousness by faith” (Galatians 5:5). With a wry smile, the old man looked at me and said, “Whenever you take a golf lesson and the teacher tells you to do one thing, do the opposite and you will find whatever that is works.” And
God is the opposite Read More »
It took a while. Had circumstances meted a different outcome, The Masters golf tournament and Augusta National may have died as but a dream to its founders, Bobby Jones and Clifford Roberts. Fate can be a dance partner capable of two-stepping to a tune chosen by the will of its whim. Consider the following early
