Of Golf, Boyhood, and Spiritual Truth

My son Zach is 10, which means he lives in his own little world. His world is populated with board games, video games, his dog Scout, other boys (he is intentionally unaware of girls), and various balls. Other categories of life are so uninteresting to him as to be nonexistent. My wife and I have discovered that we can carry on entire conversations in his presence without his knowledge as long as we don’t speak any of the keywords (school, bath, bed, screen) that trigger his attention.  

Recently, I took Zach golfing. He’s got a smooth swing for a 10-year-old, but etiquette is beyond him. He walks in front of other golfers, steps on their lines, and generally disregards their presence. Somewhere around the fourteenth time I pulled Zach back from getting clubbed by a backswing, the spiritual application of his behavior hit me like Big Bertha.  

How often am I unaware of the spiritual reality around me? How often has God watched me stumble through conversations without seeing the deeper issues at play? How many times have I walked right into temptation’s line without seeing it? Am I really paying attention? Or am I one of those unfortunates Jesus described who have eyes but don’t see?  

It’s easy for me to get frustrated with my son’s propensity to stumble through life oblivious to things I think are important. But a little somber reflection leads me to realize what a little boy I must seem to my heavenly Father, and how endlessly patient he is with me.