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A Golfer’s Psalm

The LORD is my caddie; I shall not whiff.
He maketh me to drive straight down green fairways:
He leadeth me over the still waters.
He restoreth my swing:
He leadeth me in the paths of truthfulness for the game's sake.
Yea, though I pitch through the valley of the shadow of the woods,
I will fear no bunkers: for thou art with me;
Thy wedge and thy putter they comfort me.
Thou preparest a line before me in the presence of mind hazards:
Thou anointest my stroke with confidence; the cup will not be runneth over.
Surely birdies and eagles shall follow me all the rounds of my life:
and I will dwell in the clubhouse of the LORD for ever.

Tony Carpenito 12/23/07
 
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Golfer's Prayer

Lord, as I walk down the fairways of life,
help me to realize that my greatest opportunities to learn
are actually when I am in the rough,
where I discover things I never knew were there,
and when I'm in the deepest sand,
where I learn that there is a time to walk softly,
and clean-up after myself,
and when I'm playing scramble,
where I learn that I have friends
to make up for what I lack,
and when I find the water,
where I learn that some things
are better left alone.
And when the ball rolls into the hole
for that wonderful par,
help me to realize that
all good things come from you.

Jeff Hiatt
 
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The Golfer’s Prayer

When facing outward on life’s tee
What’er may be my fate,
Grant --- I pray --- this boom to me
That I may drive them straight …
And if my best be not enough
Then give me courage high,
To go out there into the rough
And play them as they lie ---
And when on life’s putting green
Others make the cup,
If I do not --- may I come clean
And always be well up…
So when my game of life is played
And my clubs are laid aside,
No matter what mistakes I’ve made
May I have qualified.

Anonymous 
 
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A Golfer’s Prayer

Blessed art Thou oh Lord our God !
Thou hast made the sand, the grass the trees,
and gently in the tallest oak,
You waft a gentle breeze.
You drew the bubbling little brook.
You painted the placid pond.
You sigh the deepest twilight.
And smile the brightest dawn.
Beneath the fog, beneath the mist,
that drifts across the ground,
You twirl Your mighty finger,
and spin this world around.
The hills, the valleys, the winding wood,
inspire a soul to sing,
was ever there such beauty, Lord
where rolls the emerald green
Oh God, I know You are a golfer,
Your work does thus demand.
It seems Your only handicap,
is this thing that You call man.
Can this be an island, Lord ?
A place of grace and charm.
Away from daily trouble Lord,
away from daily harm ?
We pray that this may be, dear God,
a place where love extends.
Where travelers come as strangers
and golfers leave as friends !

William Everyman 2000