Come early, if you want to find a parking spot anywhere near the Laurel Falls Trailhead.*
Or maybe just show up. That might work, too.
Come early, if you want to find a parking spot anywhere near the Laurel Falls Trailhead.*
Or maybe just show up. That might work, too.
Ever heard an ‘angel choir’? Thousands of voices, together raising a loud celestial hymn?
I’m beginning to understand this is precisely what I experienced on Sunday afternoon. But it took until today, as we mark the feast of the Holy Guardian Angels, for the phenomenon to sink in entirely.
We started our round on Hole #7 in the League Finale event – and what a curious blessing that turned out to be.
A prison isn’t supposed to be comfortable. I get that.
But does it really have to be so cruel?
Can a single swing of the golf club evoke a scene of biblical import? Or is it mere vanity to think so?
I’ve been pondering these questions for several days now – ever since I was the lone witness to a hole-in-one during League play.
We golfers are a curious breed. Generally, we’re reasonable chaps – with enough sense to come in outta the rain.
But once we’re on the course? Not so much.
I got wind of a writing gig a few weeks back…and I wound up spitting the bit. Continue reading
It’s only about 530 miles from the St. Louis metro area…to Gatlinburg, TN…but five years ago this weekend, I remember thinking it seemed like a million.
On this, the Feast of the Transfiguration, thought I might re-post a reflection I wrote a bit earlier this year…when we were blessed to visit the very spot where Jesus dazzled…even as some key disciples dithered. Here’s what I wrote back in mid-Lent:
Perhaps Peter should have traveled by taxi up to the top of Mount Tabor. That experience certainly would have kept him from falling asleep.