Ball Marks

I was born into a family whose daily refrain was to make a difference in the world, to leave a mark, so this brushstroke could read as if I’ve changed the song. I haven’t, but something on my dresser reminded me that an important way to leave a mark is to not leave a mark.

At first glance, it’s simply a golf tool. Given to each player in hopes that he or she will use it to repair ball marks on the greens left from approach shots, the device helps lift indentations so the greens have a chance to remain smooth for others. Beside the brand name was the marking “X 2” which suggests players should repair not only their own mark, but one left by another as well.

“Therein lies the sermon,” I thought.

What a different world it would be if we all repaired our ball marks, let alone a mark of another! Think about how wonderful our travels through life would be if people replaced or poured grass seed in their divots. As a benefactor of the city of Winston-Salem passes along, we need to leave sand traps better than we found them.

The ways of saying it go far beyond golf images, but the truth they have in common is worthy of our reflection no matter the language. Where are our ball marks? . . . in the hallways at work . . . at the committee tables at which we sit . . . within the self-esteem of our children . . . in the conversations we have with loved ones?

No matter how softly we hit the ball, there are always ball marks. The question is whether we have the humility to use the tools we’ve been given to repair such marks, and, while we’re at it, repair a mark or two left by others.