March 29, 2025/ A Wonderful Walk with Ford

Pray in the Spirit at all times and on every occasion. Stay alert and be persistent in your prayers for all believers everywhere. (Ephesians 6:18 NLT).

It is March 19, 2025 as I write this. Yesterday was my 74th birthday!

I am sore- my back is killing me, but basically I am feeling pretty good for a man who just walked and played 74 holes of golf on my 74th birthday. I wasn’t sure if I could do it or not- but I did. The first ball was hit at 7:20am. I had six friends who caddied for me. I putted out on 18 at 6:20pm. Eleven hours, 74 holes, all in honor and memory of my father, Ford Philpot, who died at age 74 in 1992. The walk was nearly thirty (30) miles. It was wonderful. I talked to my dad along the way, in between listening to the birds chirp.

Since Ford died at 74, it seems possible that this could indeed be my last birthday. So, I decided to attempt to walk the 74 holes as a benediction on life with Ford.

I was hoping for some wisdom from Ford from an eternal perspective. He has been dead now for 33 years, so he has had plenty of time to learn (face-to-face) some things from Jesus that I am still trying to figure out.

As for the golf, I played the green senior tees – less than 6,000 yards. That let me chunk several wedges instead of clunking six irons. I discovered again that golf is hard no matter which tees you play. The hole remains the same- 4.25 inches

My day with Ford proved some things about why the Bible says the Christian experience is a Walk. I have never been a physically impressive specimen. I cannot do five real pushups. I have never done one pull-up in my life. I was embarrassed in junior high to have to take off my shirt. No muscles anywhere. Most 12-year old girls would beat me arm wrestling.

But apparently I can walk.  

Lesson One is that Pain does not stop you from walking.

At the half-way point, my back and hips started to hurt - a nagging pain that never really went away. But the agony did not stop me from walking and swinging the golf club. In fact, stopping to swing seemed to help. It is all about your expectations. If you know that the end is eleven hours and 74 holes, you just keep going.

One more step. One more swing. Keep going. No matter what.

Lesson Two is that the walk, even through the pain, is easier when you have a caddie to carry your burdens- known as golf clubs. Six friends caddied and gave me wise counsel and encouragement. I could NOT have done this alone.

And Lesson Three, a full day of golf brings moments of joy. Even miracles. As for the scorecard, the miracle was that an opening 80 was followed by 75 and 77 (with an asterisk since I skipped a hole to get around a slow group). This was a small miracle since I had not broken 80 in 2025. But then, as the day was winding down, something miraculous happened.

The final round was quite routine, full of bogies, even nasty sixes on two par fives. But then I birdied #14 (70th hole of the day). Then nice crisp 9-irons set up easy pars on #15 and #16. Then my only ‘two’ (2) of the day on the par three 17th when I made my longest putt of the day. And then, on #18, a reachable par five, a two-putt birdie finished off the day in spectacular fashion. I was too tired to even think about the ‘scorecard’ while playing. But after the round was over, I sat in my easy chair and added up the numbers. The final eighteen was a "74". I shot my age on the final round. Wow. How did that happen? Was Ford pulling some strings up there?

I close this story with just one of my memories during the day. It involved a lawyer named Barry Bertram, who passed away at age 95 recently. The memory was from forty-five years ago when Barry missed one of our golf trips to Florida due to cancer surgery. Ford had promised Barry that he would pray for him on the day of the surgery- but he forgot. Just like me- he forgot.

We got around to the middle of the 12th fairway when Ford remembered his friend and confessed that he had forgotten to pray. His excitement about the golf dissipated into distress about his failure to pray. He hit his second shot onto the green.

He then immediately got down on his knees in the middle of the fairway and prayed out loud for Barry. Just thirty seconds or so. But it was very loud and very visible. And he didn’t seem to care about the guys behind us wondering what was taking so long up there. I was totally embarrassed by this scene of my father holding up the golf course to pray. I walked as fast as I could to the green to get away from this crazy man kneeling in the fairway. If asked, I would have said, like Peter on a cold dark night, “I don’t know the man” (Matthew 26:72).

But here I am, forty years later, with a memory that lingers into eternity.

Time taught me the lesson that it is never too late to pray. It is okay to forget to pray. It is okay to pray when you do remember. And it is okay to pray on a golf course. In the middle of the day. In the middle of the 12th fairway.

Well, that day gave me courage many years later to pray for a man named Tom, who I had never met until we were paired in a golf tournament. Nice guy. Nice player. But during the round, he did a couple of very odd things- like pick up his ball from two inches instead of tapping in. This was a real tournament, and I was keeping his score. Perhaps you know that feeling. What do I put down for him on the scorecard? After a couple of those incidents, Tom realized his mistake and spoke up, “Sorry guys. My mind is not here. We’ve had a bad week. My wife has cancer.”  The whole group expressed sympathy and moved on.

We finished on the 14th hole (shotgun start). And as we putted out, my mind heard Ford’s voice, praying for Barry in the middle of a fairway. Ford was already in heaven by then, but I could hear his voice and my heart was pounding. I heard myself say, “Guys, would it be alright if we prayed right here, right now, for Tom and his wife.” In one of the craziest moments of my golf life, we stood on the 14th green and held hands and prayed with tears for Tom and his wife, who died a few weeks later. As you might imagine, Tom and I became dear friends, and he became a regular at our Thursday morning Bible study at the golf course.

Ford showed me. It’s never too late to pray. It’s never too soon to pray. It’s never too crazy to pray.

At age 74, Ford was ready for heaven. And now, so am I.

For more about my dad, try www.fordswonderfulworld.com, published by LinksPlayers in 2013.

March 11, 2025 / Three A.M.-- There's More

"And rising very early in the morning, while it was still dark, he [Jesus] went out to a desolate place, and there he prayed." (Mark 1:35, E.S.V.)

Lettie Cowman

Two devotionals came flooding into my heart today that got my attention. Both are from “older women”. God has been teaching me in my latter years (74 next week) that older women have a wisdom that deserves attention. Wisdom is female in Proverbs for a reason. Anyone’s search for wisdom should start with older women. “Lady Wisdom” is featured in my novel (www.playersprogress.com) for a reason.

The first devotional came at 4am with ‘Streams in the Desert’ by Lettie Cowman (1925). Lettie’s devotionals hit me between the eyes virtually every day, but oh today! Her first sentence was- “Yesterday you experienced a great sorrow and now your house seems empty.” I had scribbled in the margins of my well-worn devotional book— “Birdie Bea 2024- her last day”. Oh boy, what a way to start a Tuesday morning.

I took my doggie to the vet last year on March 11 to be ‘put to sleep’, and indeed, the house still feels empty, as all you dog-lovers would appreciate. I smile though remembering that last day with Bea. The vet had Hershey Kisses in a jar in the waiting room- in essence the death chamber. As you perhaps know, chocolate is really bad for dogs so Bea had never tasted it- but this was her final hour- so what the heck. I unwrapped the Hershey Kiss and gave it to her. Her sad and sick face cheered up immediately and she looked back at me, hoping for one more. I could hear her whispering, “Hey man, where has this been all my life?” That moment still has me smiling.

And then, over breakfast, Sue wanted me to read the day’s devotional from Aletha Hinthorn, one of her devotional writers. Forgive me Aletha if you read this for calling you “older”.

ALETHA HINTHORN

Aletha also hit me between the eyes. Her devotional was all about the beauty of God at 3am. Thanks to old age perhaps, I wake up often in the middle of the night. Three AM seems to be a normal wakeup, and it is more than just going to the bathroom. Aletha’s devotional took me back into my childhood, remembering a preacher you surely never heard of. My father loved Tony Anderson, quoted extensively by Aletha in her devotional. He was a teacher at Asbury College and a camp meeting preacher. Google tells me he was born in 1888 and died in 1979. Listen to Tony through Aletha’s words:

“Through the centuries many have found great value in seeking God in the early morning. One of those is the late T. M. Anderson. One January, Dr. Anderson was suddenly awakened at Midnight. He felt he should sleep a few more hours, but at that moment Jesus asked if he could remain awake long enough to give Him time to talk with him in the quiet hours of the morning. He reminded him that there is a fast in denying ourselves sleep just as there is a fast in abstaining from food. For five hours Dr. Anderson waited before the Savior in worship and communion. He later felt no weariness from the loss of sleep.

T.M. ANDERSON

After that nighttime awakening, Dr. Anderson entered into a covenant of prayer with Jesus. The words of Psalm 5:3 formed a part of his covenant: "My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O Lord: in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up.”

Dr. Anderson said, "The hours between midnight and six o'clock in the morning are the most peaceful hours of the entire day...If one has retired at a reasonable time; and the body has rested for a few hours, and the mind has been cleared and relieved of the confusions of the day, then he can prevail with God in prayer, as at no other time. I find the most practical time of the morning is from three o'clock to five.”

All of this made me want to know more about ol’ Tony’s life and work as an evangelist, teacher, and preacher. I recalled how much my own father used to quote the old preacher. The internet search located an old sermon he preached in 1971. He was 83. The pace and the sound of his voice, combined with the passion for prayer, made me want to meet him in heaven.

This has filled me with some regret. If I had been smart enough in the 1970’s, I could have spent many hours with Tony Anderson at the end of this life. He lived fifteen miles away. I could have captured the wisdom of a man in his 80’s who was full of wisdom, but I was too busy in law school, completely self-absorbed with my future fame and fortune to think that some ancient preacher had anything to teach me. The arrogance of my 20’s astounds me today. I was literally a fool in many ways.

But it’s never too late. I now know that the early morning hours are indeed the greatest hours of the day. Jesus certainly agreed with that. He loved the dark early morning hours.

Oh, I did start getting up early for the so-called quiet time forty years ago, but in many ways, it was not enough.

I could not imagine that 3AM would be so sweet. I had settled for 5AM. Not bad, but there is even more at 3AM.

So, this morning I offer thanks to the old folks who are teaching me. Lettie Cowman, Aletha Hinthorn, Tony Anderson. See y’all soon.