Yesterday I found myself in a bar. Well, truth be told, I had consciously walked into the bar, looking for something I could not find anywhere else. My nerves were in shambles and as I sat down at the bar (in the bar) I gave in to the urge for a strong drink. I knew I shouldn’t, and even the bartender suggested I didn’t, but I could not help it. I have never done light, zero was in this situation out of the question, so I went for the real thing – calories and all.
The reason I was in the bar was because it was the only place in the airport showing World Cup football, and Denmark was about to play their opening match against Peru. The reason I needed a drink was to have an excuse to sit at the bar and watch the game, and the reason zero was out of the question was that the time for clean sheets was over, goals were needed too.
The game was a bit tenser than I would have preferred. Denmark did not play well at all, to the point of conceding a penalty – which Peru treated as a Rugby field kick – and at half time it was still 0-0. Apart from a man sitting next to me in the bar it did not seem like anyone else was watching the game, but they certainly realised something was happening when Denmark scored.
I punched the air several times shouting rather loudly ‘yes, yes, yes.’ I did not think about, it came very naturally, and honestly, I couldn’t care what people thought about me. Looking around I realised I had drawn some attention and smiles from the other customers. I looked around, held my hand up as apologizing and said ‘I’m sorry, but I am Danish’
Sitting in church this morning as two soldiers were enrolled and three adherents accepted, I felt the urge to punch the air and shout ‘yes, yes, yes,’ but I didn’t. When the gospel was laid out simply and clearly by our corps officer with an invitation to place your life in God’s hands, I wanted to punch the air and shout ‘yes, yes, yes,’ but I didn’t. As we left the corps, after a service full of blessings and encouragement, maybe I should have punched the air and loudly shouted ‘yes, yes, yes,’ but I didn’t.
Wonder what would happen if I, and maybe others with me, stopped behaving so nicely and well trained, stopped trying so hard not to cause offence, and rather gave room for expressing enthusiasm and joy over Jesus, what he means to me and what he does in people’s lives?
Wonder what would happen if I began to just let it out, not first thinking about the situation and surroundings?
Wonder what would happen, if I more often would live in such a way, that I would have to look around the room, hold my hands up and explain my actions by a simple ‘I am sorry, but I am a Jesus follower?’
Wonder if not people might smile a bit at me, and yet find it appealing and maybe even attracting?
Wonder what would happen, if we began behaving in such a way, that would demand an explanation?