Because the Lord is my Caddy,
I have everything that I need.
When my lies are deep down in green pastures
or I face hazards disguised as still waters,
He guides me through each shot with confidence.
And when I lose my footing,
He restores my soles with new spikes.

Even when I walk through tree-lined shadows
only to find my ball buried in a sand trap
(that resembles Death Valley),
I’m not inclined to worry.
My Caddy hands me my wedge
(along with His rod and staff)
and comforts me with a needed reminder:
“Keep your eye on the ball!”

And when I reach the table-like green
and it seems my opponent is sure to take the lead,
my Caddy goes before me.
Stepping off my putt,
He prepares me for the way the ball will break.

When I listen to His voice
and follow His advice,
the cup overflows with that glorious sound
of a ball that has finally found its home.

As I look around,
I see the devoted patrons who follow me.
For goodness’ sake, what mercy they extend.
When I shank or slice or hook my ball,
my Caddy is always there
reminding me to forget what is behind
and focus on what is ahead.

As we approach the eighteenth green,
I hear my Caddy say,
“No matter what your critics claim
or how poorly you may have played today,
hold your head up high and don’t despair.
My grace is sufficient for you.
You will make the final cut.
It’s called an eternal lifetime exemption!”