Your Spiritual Handicap

Last week I wrote about junkyard spiritual disciplines—the cobbled-together mash-up of practices from many traditions welded into something that works for me. That was my list. But here’s the thing: your mileage may vary.

What impacts me might be nonsense for you. Spiritual formation doesn’t fit neatly into one toolbox. It bends and flexes depending on our history, our temperament, our baggage, even the people around us.

So let me stretch a metaphor way, way too far.

If all of us spiritual pilgrims were golfers, we’d be playing different courses, at different times, with different skill levels. The weather changes. The hole designs vary. The distances, the hazards, the elevation—all different. And the clubs in our bag aren’t the same either.

Even once we tee off, no two second shots look alike. We’re coming from different angles, with different challenges between us and the hole, out of different grass conditions (if we’re lucky).

Some of us play slow, irritating everyone behind us. Some of us play fast, only to wait at the next tee. Some play with cigars and beer. Others with earbuds and playlists. Some are chatty, some are courteous but quiet. Some are deadly serious; others are goofing off.

That’s the spiritual life.

Which means any one-size-fits-all plan is doomed. At best it feels like a formula. At worst, it’s irrelevant.

So what do we do?

We learn from those better than us. We practice, knowing failure is part of the game. We celebrate the rare wins, even if luck played a role. And we stay humble. Because this is a long walk (or cart ride), and the goal isn’t a perfect scorecard—it’s finishing the round.

Spiritual formation is humbling.
It’s frustrating.
It’s amazing.

So keep swinging. You’ll get there.