Today I played in a charity golf tournament.  When I woke up this morning I really had to make myself get out of bed and go.  Its not that I dont like golf (even though I quit after last Saturday), but normally I play golf like Happy Gilmore plays putt-putt.  My clubs typically rack as much air time as my Nike Distance balls.  Lets just say I play with emotion.

Anyway, this evening as I spent some time praying and meditating on the day God brought something to mind.  On the 17th hole (a par 3) there was a prize for closest to the pin.  If I knocked it inside what seemed to be about 4 feet from the tee box I would have won a year's worth of Coldstone Ice Cream.  For my Houston readers, this stuff makes Baskin-Robbins look like what used to come out of the Snoopy Ice Cream maker.  Well I hit my shot and immidiatly know that its going to be close.  It hits the green and begins to roll.  There is no question I am going to be within 2 feet of the hole when, "cling", it bounces of the marker used to pinpoint the closest shot so far, and rests 2'' from dairy bliss. 

The miracle wasnt the shot.  It was my reaction.  No club throw.  No whining or yelling.  I didnt murder the guy (literally or in my heart) when he took his prize at the award ceremony (at which I found out his shot was on a mulligan - which means it shouldnt even count!).  I simply applauded and appreciated a great day of golf.  This, for me, is a miracle.  Its the work of the Holy Spirit.  Today, I golfed less like Mike and more like Jesus.