The frustration was building on her face.   She would not look my way.  Perhaps it was to stay focused; most likely it was to keep from letting the tears escape.

My heart hurt as I watched this girl of mine struggling to keep her composure.  Golf is a long game.  It is one thing to struggle for a little while; it is another thing to struggle for 18 holes.  If you’ve played golf, you know that equals hours of frustration, hope, and disappointment.

Golf sounds a lot like life.  Before you have time to enjoy that wonderful hole, or worse, shake off your frustration from another hole, the next one is in front of you.  It is a long game of strength, focus, and finesse.  And that’s why I don’t play.  My girl is different than I am.  She is steady like her father.  She doesn’t get shaken easily…except, today.

Today, she faces the reality that sometimes life just doesn’t care if you are ready for the next hole.  And what will you do?

So here she is trying so hard to keep it together when the wheels seem to be falling off her cart.  I can only watch.  I understand the rules, and as much as I struggle, I realize it is forcing my girl to do something my mother’s heart usually doesn’t let happen.  Face it alone.  Talk herself through it.  Or, maybe just cry herself through it, as she stands here alone.  She must learn to fight this urge to quit and walk away.

It’s not that I don’t want her to learn these things.  It’s just that I prefer to cushion, hold, and encourage along the way.  Here, though, my mother’s heart is forced into submission.

And something else holds her there.  There are rules of respect, honor, and integrity that come with this game.  They finish no matter what the green does to them that day.

I realize only much later, as I write, how greatly she needs these lessons in her life.  She has a big heart and great passion, but will she have the character to persevere when the days of drudgery and disappointment come?  Will she choose to do what is right, even when she doesn’t feel like it and life feels so hard, so silent- even so unfair at times?

Perhaps we both need golf more than I thought.  I’m not so good at this part.  It’s the teen version of letting her cry it out and I was never good at that.  As a parent, I want to fix, to rescue, to heal… but love must eventually let her choose.  As she leaves that miserable hole to face the next hole, I catch a glimpse of her tears, and I find myself hating this game.  So I breathe out a silent prayer to Jesus, hoping He is paying attention, too.

You understand why this lesson is so important to our kids, don’t you?

Maybe you are a single mom or dad, or the parent of a special needs child, or just a worn-out warrior trying so hard to raise-or maybe even save-your family.  These days come to all of us.  And there is no relief player when life doesn’t let up.  No one else will make sure it all gets done.

And what will you do?

You, too, understand the fortitude it takes to do the hard things in life.  You don’t get to step out of the game unless you make the decision to quit, and I hope you never quit.  I hope someone taught you this lesson while you were young.

Maybe you, too, look at the green today and think God has forgotten you by His silence, as the tears fill your eyes and your heart reels from the last hole that life sent your way.

Breathe out a prayer, my friend, and whisper your need to Jesus.  Learn to bravely face the disappointment, frustration, and the desire to quit, just one hole at a time.

Yes, I know there is always another hole to face.  But it just might be the hole He sends to pour His heaven-sent hope back into your heart to carry you through the day.  It all depends on how you are looking at it.

As hard as it is, I realize how important it is for my daughter to learn to stand and face these holes without my encouragement.  It must happen to make her stronger.  But it doesn’t mean I am absent or inattentive.   My heart is emotionally tied to everything she is going through.

And just because you don’t hear your Father’s voice, doesn’t mean He isn’t there.   Sometimes He is silent because the rules of maturity require it and Love must eventually let you choose.  He asks you to bravely face each hole with the simple confidence that He is there.  To learn that you are able, even in your weakness, to grow stronger through His strength alone.

It’s the stuff that faith is made of and it must happen to all of us as we grow up.  In the craziest of times, realize every challenge has a lesson that is refining you, if you’ll let it.

And so, we must allow our children these times where they face life alone.  They must learn to talk themselves through it, or even cry themselves through it, as long as they learn to stand alone and get through it.

Eventually, like you and me, they may learn the most important lesson of all:  just because they don’t hear their Father’s voice, doesn’t mean He isn’t there.  

And that makes my hurting heart hopeful.

And there is something greater that holds us as we journey this life.  Something all of our children can learn.  Every hole we face is another opportunity, even in perceived failure, to let God be glorified along the journey and point people to the hope of the gospel in Jesus.

And I know He is paying attention.

He will not ever leave us and He will not ever forsake us, no matter the silence of the game.  He is intently watching over us with a heart that is emotionally connected to each and every one of His children who are willing to stand alone bravely facing the next hole of life no matter what the green does to them that day.

It’s the stuff that faith is made of.