I love being outside – especially this time of year. Everywhere you look there is new life bursting forth. Minus the occasional allergy sneezing fit, this is one of my favorite times of the year. I used to spend these longer evenings out on the golf course either practicing the swing on the range or squeezing nine holes in at the local par three course, until the yips happened.

Have you ever had something in your life that you were able to do without thinking much about it? Well, with my baseball background, swinging at and hitting things was my muscle memorized trait. I loved getting into golf after my baseball career ended because it reminded me of those windy afternoon practices on the baseball diamond. There was something nostalgic I found when I’d tee it up for a late afternoon round.

Golf became an excuse to simply be outside for a few hours. I found myself running into similar people who drank the kool aid like me at the course, but I loved playing by myself. It was a refreshing time where I could loosely consider life if I wanted to or focus on competing with myself – it became a centering time for me. And then I got the yips.

The yips are what happen when you get stuck in your head thinking about a motion. They most commonly materialize with baseball players as they throw the ball and with golfers. One day I took a swing and instead of hitting the ball in the center of the club face, I hit it off the hosel – the part of the club that connects the shaft to the club face. What happens next is a terrible sound and feeling followed by the ball shooting out at a 45-degree angle to your right – nowhere near your intended target.

This began to haunt me and happen more frequently at the range. To the point where if it happened once it would happen for the remainder of the bucket. I was floundering. Feeling like a crazy person, I’d keep swinging, hoping it would resolve itself but I was only reinforcing whatever bad habit that was beginning to take root.

I’d dislocated my shoulder snowboarding two years ago and had to put down golf for about four months. Still riddled with the yips and with a bum shoulder I tried to get out to play with a friend about four months after the dislocation. The rest of the story is better told in person, but I ended up shanking a ball off the hosel and it flew between some ivy and a chain link fence and hit a man on the seventh tee right on the head. A real traumatic moment for both of us.

I was pretty devastated. I didn’t pick up a golf club for a long time and it took over a year for me to play a round of golf again. I was embarrassed and part of me was scared to even try to go back to the range to try and practice. Funny thing is, my golf clubs and shoes never left the back of my truck. At any point, I could have made a few turns and been at the course in just a matter of minutes. A thousand times I wanted to, but I just couldn’t get over the hurdle – until a few weeks ago.

I was driving to the gym for a workout and the thought popped in my head. I had a few moments to consider, and I decided to drive over to the course. If the range was empty, I was going to go out there. I made my way down the familiar cul-de-sac and parked in front of the club house. Sure enough, there was someone swinging at the range. So, I threw it in reverse and sped off back to the gym. The whole workout all I could think about was how awesome it would be to be swinging a club outside off the freshly cut grass.

I finished my lift, grabbed my keys, and told myself it was time to face my fears. If not now, when? This was an activity that brought me real life and had helped me through some challenging times, it was time to get it back. I drove back to the clubhouse. No one’s at the range. I paid the 10 bucks and made my way out there.

All 30 balls in the baggie went straight – no shanks. I had a blast. I began to work stops at the range into my routine again. The second time at the range as I was walking out to the hitting area, I was praying to the Lord that I’d just be confident. That I’d trust my body and believe that I can strike the ball well. About halfway through the bag a man joins me. I tell myself to just relax and keep swinging. I can do this. I finish my last swing and begin to grab my things when this guy stops what he’s doing to tell me I have a really nice swing. What? I prayed for confidence and this stranger feels the need to compliment me.

I continued to see the nice stranger at the course when I’d return and a time or two later, the shank returned. Not wanting to give up, I found my new friend and told him what I was facing and asked if he had any tips. We ended up meeting for a lesson a few Mondays back. We started with some short swings and he was able to show me where I was getting myself into trouble. I finally had the problem diagnosed! He gave me a few drills to work on to make sure the club face wasn’t slipping out to the right and told me to have fun and keep playing – it’s a beautiful game.

I took the drills and his words to heart and I’m back out playing. The swing’s not perfect and there’s still plenty of work to be done. But I’m able to hit the ball straight and play. If you’ve stuck with me this long, thank you, and here’s the application. I needed to face my fear. I felt a tangible sense that the Lord was with my on my journey and I believe He’ll be with you on yours. He sent me a stranger who’s become a new friend and for $50 I finally got a problem I’ve been trying to fix for three years diagnosed.

I know this sounds slightly trivial, but I have a real sense that facing my golf swing is something that I need to do and has been something that has been holding me back in other areas of my life. Like a sort of roadblock. My question to you is this: what fear in your life, big or small, is keeping you from the joy you once had? Now, what’s a step you can take this week to facing that fear? I want to encourage you, friend, to take the first step however small it may be and remember as my new friend told me – keep playing, it’s a beautiful game.