Month: May 2025

Closer to the pin

/ jerrythinks / 1 Comment

I love golf.

Hang on. Let me back up.

I love the idea of golf.

Yeah, that’s better.

I used to play a fair amount of golf, back in the day.

Actually—hold up—let me modify that statement:

I used to play golf when my golf-loving Dad would invite me to play with him.

Yeah, that’s definitely more accurate.

Some of the things I can appreciate about golf are:

  • It’s never the same game twice; you’ll literally never take the exact same stance or swing the same way twice.
  • It demands focus. And I mean FOCUS to do it well consistently.
  • It’s as much mental as it is physical. (I hear some of you jeering that it isn’t really that physical, and that’s okay.)
  • It interacts with nature, which as we all know can be brutally unpredictable. Winds, grass length, tree branches, water, and light all play their part in making up every swing of the club.
  • There’s an etiquette embedded in the game. Did you know men must wear a collared shirt when they play? The three key words to acceptable golf fashion are “neat, clean, and comfortable.”
  • It’s a game that encourages teamwork, but ultimately, the outcome is up to me.

There are more reasons, but you get it. I want to share something I learned about golf years ago, and how I define success in golf whenever I play (I don’t play much anymore, but would love it if invited. Hint Hint).

One day I was out golfing with my Dad, and since he is a much, MUCH better golfer than I, he took every single shot to heart; as if every shot he took was determining whether he’d wear that famous green jacket or not. If I recall correctly, we were, that day, on an unremarkable golf course in Winchester, VA, where I was living at the time. He was visiting and, of course, brought his clubs so we could spend the day on the links.

As time went on, I could see his frustration rising. You see, golfers have this thing that happens where one bad shot can very easily give birth to another bad shot. String a few bad shots together, and you’re suddenly someone who has no right holding a club. Take it to its logical conclusion and you’ll see why some golfers resort to wrapping their club around the nearest tree trunk. But no one can argue with their passion, I’ll say that.

So as I recall, I stopped my Dad mid-tirade and made a suggestion. “Dad, how about we redefine what a good shot is?” We instantly both agreed that our new definition of success for any shot we took would be “Closer to the pin.” (For those of you who aren’t golfers, the “pin” is the flag that sticks up and out of the “cup”. And the “cup” is the technical name for the hole you’re trying to ultimately get the ball into.)

So there we were, on some random fairway on some random golf course on some random day in Northern Virginia, with a new vision of what good golfing looks like, right in the middle of our game. The cloud hanging over us broke up, the wind was suddenly sweeter, and the overall mood turned weightless. It was a decision we made together that instantly changed the game.

Christians, let’s be honest. Many of us need to let go of some of the rigidity of religion that has caused us to view it as a score-keeping regimen rather than a fiery relationship born out of and rooted in grace. In other words, we ought to tear up the scorecard we’ve been clutching.

Each day, ask one simple question: Am I closer to Jesus today than I was yesterday?

That’s it. And use your honest answer to that one question to calibrate your heart, decide your trajectory, and fuel your passion for Him and Him alone.

Putting the “me” in “mess”

/ jerrythinks / 1 Comment

It was the final frame of the 2012 U.S. Open Bowling Championship in my childhood home state of New Jersey. Bowling legend Pete Weber was poised to clinch his 5th championship title, and a strike here would crown him bowling king once again, by a one-pin margin. Weber slipped three of his fingers into the holes of his perfectly weighted, balanced, and shined bowling ball. All during the championship, and as he made his approach on this historic frame that would decide the outcome of the tournament, Pete Weber had in his mind (and ears) a young heckler (unidentified to this day) who jeered at him. Unphased, Pete Weber maintained his steely focus on the 10 pins at the end of that finely oiled lane; pins that were doing their own heckling of Pete Weber.

Moments later, Pete Weber celebrated a perfect strike and, in exuberant celebration, gave the sporting world one of the greatest, most bizarre, most perfect-fitting exclamations of victory ever to be uttered:

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? I AM!”

It’s a messy, awkward, nonsensical declaration that somehow fit the personality of Pete Weber and the alpha-male moment perfectly. But still…it was just…odd.

I appreciate how AI took this statement of Weber’s and straightens things out with a more logical explanation:

“Who do you think you are?” Implies that the person believes they are bigger than what they are. It elicits the thought of a powerful person. “I am” confirms that I am, in fact, who you think you are.

What’s the moral to this story, and why am I telling you about it? It’s because it’s the perfect reminder that people are messy. If you’re going to interact with other people, you’re going to get mess on your hands. It’s not a matter of if, but when. And when is always either “now” or “very very soon.”

I remember the moment in my life when I realized that people are messy. I don’t think I’ve ever shared this story with anyone. Somehow, this morning it slipped back into my consciousness, and with it, a trickling of some childhood emotions.

In elementary school (sixth grade, I think, which in those days was still elementary school), I had a really good classmate and friend named Jeff. We played trumpets together in the elementary school band, and we just got along really well. We were always joking around, laughing, and making the best of our school day. Jeff had become a good, positive, pleasant, and fun part of my school day as a young boy. We didn’t do much together outside of our school day, but when we were there together, it was always a good time.

Then one day I happened to see Jeff at a small shopping plaza–the Acme shopping plaza, I believe–in the little town of North Cape May, New Jersey, where I grew up. When I saw Jeff in that context, he wasn’t the Jeff I knew from school. He wasn’t smiling or even friendly. In fact, he was aggressive. He seemed angry. And in a matter of moments, became violent. I recall him pushing me, as if to invoke some kind of fighting response from me. I had no training either in self-defense or even about what to do in such a situation. He kept pushing me as I kept trying to get away from him.

This is part of the front of that old Acme shopping plaza, now vacant.

My young mind was racing, confused, and frightened at what was happening to me in that moment, in broad daylight on the cement walkway that ran along the front of that shopping plaza. What had I done wrong? Nothing I could think of. Why was Jeff acting this way? I had no earthly idea. I simply wanted to get away from this person, whom until that moment I had considered a good friend.

I understood in that moment for the first time, that people aren’t always easy to understand. That people aren’t always going to do what you expect or think they should. That, in short, people are messy.

My time in ministry for over three decades now has only served to support this truth. I know that anytime we’re interacting with others, we can count on it statistically that a mess is going to emerge. There’ll be some miscommunication, some misunderstanding, or even some perceived hurtful thing that happens or gets said. If you don’t believe me or agree, you’ve likely never had a conversation with anyone at any time about anything. For those of you who have, you’re nodding your head in agreement.

One of the most critical components of mess management, however, begins with the first two letters of “mess”: me. I should never have as my default setting the idea that when a mess arises, it certainly can’t be because of me. A healthy stance to take when interacting with any mess is to ask questions like, “What part do I have in this?” or even “What have I done–even inadvertently–that has contributed to the mess at hand?” Simply put: “What ownership do I need to take when it comes to the current mess?”

Here’s what that kind of honest vulnerability will do:

  1. It will make you humble and approachable, two qualities that do what nothing else can.
  2. It will disarm and diffuse the tendency for blame-laying over responsibility-taking.
  3. It will level the field in terms of anyone involved, allowing everyone to work together.
  4. It focuses energy on solutions rather than causes. (Not that fact-finding isn’t important.)
  5. It creates malleability instead of rigidity. Being malleable is a key ingredient to resolving messes.

So the next time you encounter a mess, don’t do anything before you remember the “me” in the mess.

Before shoving someone down a cement walkway, take stock of where the “me” in the mess is. When you do, reach out to me and tell me what transpired and what you learned from it.

Case in point: This morning, I have on my mind a situation that just happened this past weekend. I had an understanding of something that I thought was clearly planned and settled, and yet someone else had a different version of reality. At a certain point, those two perceptions of reality–mine and theirs–collided and made a small mess. Thankfully, it was easily rectified and we moved forward, but I had to do the work of mentally reviewing the situation, and thinking intentionally about my part in what had transpired.

I was tempted to dig in my heels, doubling down on my version of what was supposed to happen, but when faced with a different version, I chose instead to believe the best in the other person and give way to a different route. Then in quick hindsight, revisit the situation to see what can be learned and strengthened in me and my leadership. I hope this brief example can help put skin on the concept of effective mess management.